In person the ancient sailor was almost square, with short legs and a body worthy6 of promotion7 to something higher. His face was wrinkled and brown, like the exterior8 of that incomprehensible fruit the medlar, which is never ripe till it is bad, and then it is to be avoided. A yellow-grey beard clustered closely round a short chin, and when perchance the sealskin cap was absent yellow-grey hair of a similar hue9 completed the circle, standing10 up as high from his brow as fell the beard downward from his chin. A pair of intensely blue eyes, liquid always with the milk of human kindness, rendered the hirsute11 medlar a pleasant thing to look at.
The Agnes and Mary was ready for sea, her cargo12 of potatoes, with a little light weight in the way of French beans and eggs, comfortably stowed, and as Captain Lebrun emerged from what he was pleased to call his “state-room” with the first breath of a clear morning he performed his matinal toilet with a certain sense of satisfaction. This operation was simple, consisting merely in the passage of four very brown fingers through the yellow-grey hair, and a hurried dispersal of the tobacco ash secreted13 in his beard.
The first object that met the mariner's astonished gaze was the long black form of a man stretched comfortably upon the cabin locker15. The green mud adhering to the sleeper16's thin shoes showed that he had climbed on board at low tide when the harbour was dry.
Captain Lebrun gazed meditatively17 at the intruder for some moments. Then he produced a powerfully-scented pipe of venerable appearance, which had been, at various stages of its existence, bound in a seaman18-like manner with pieces of tarred yarn20. He slowly filled this object, and proceeded to inform it in a husky voice that he was “blowed.” The pipe was, apparently21, in a similar condition, as it refused absolutely to answer to the powerful suction applied22 to it.
He then seated himself with some difficulty upon the corner of the low table, and examined the sleeper critically.
“Poor devil,” he again said, addressing himself to his pipe. “He's one of them priest fellows.—Hi, mister!” he observed, raising his voice.
Christian23 Vellacott woke up at once, and took in the situation without delay. He was not of those who must go through terrible contortions24 before regaining25 their senses after sleep.
“Good morning, Captain!” he observed pleasantly.
“Oh—yourn't a parlee voo, then!”
“No, I'm an Englishman.”
“Indeed. Then you'll excuse me, but what in the name of glory are you doing here?”
Christian sat up and looked at his muddy shoes with some interest.
“Well, the truth is that I am bolting. I want to get across to England. I saw where you hailed from by your rig, and clambered on board last night. It seemed to me that when an Englishman is in a hole he cannot do better than go to a fellow-countryman for help.”
Captain Lebrun made a mighty26 effort to force a passage through his pipe, and was rewarded by a very high-pitched squeak27.
“Ay!” he said doubtfully. “But what sort of hole is it? Nothing dirty, I'm hopin'. Who are yer? Why are ye runnin' away, and who are ye runnin' from?”
Though a trifle blunt the sailor's manner was not unfriendly, and Christian laughed before replying.
“Well,” he said, “to tell you the whole story would take a long time. You remember perhaps there was a row, about two months ago, respecting some English rifles found in Paris?”
“Of course I remember that; we had a lot o' trouble with the Customs just then. The thing was ferreted out by a young newspaper fellow!”
Christian rubbed his hands slowly together. He was terribly anxious to hear the sequel.
“I am that newspaper fellow,” he said, with a quick smile.
Captain Lebrun slowly stood up. He contemplated28 his pipe thoughtfully, then laying it upon the table he turned solemnly towards Christian, and held out a broad brown hand which was covered with scales in lieu of skin.
“Shake hands, mister?” he said.
Christian obliged him.
“And now,” he said quickly, “I want to know what has happened since—since I left England. Has there been a great row? Has ... has anybody wondered where I was?”
The old sailor may have had his suspicions. He may have guessed that Christian Vellacott had not left England at the dictates29 of his own free will, for he looked at him very kindly30 with his liquid blue eyes, and replied slowly:—
“I couldn't say that nobody hasn't been wonderin' where ye was, but—but there's been nothing in the papers!”
“That is all right! And now will you give me a passage, Captain?”
“Course I will! We sail about eleven this morning. I'm loaded and cleared out. But I should like you to have a change o' clothes. Can't bear to see ye in them black things. It makes me feel as if I was talkin' to a priest.”
“I should like nothing better,” replied Christian, as he rose and contemplated his own person reflectively.
“Come into my state-room then. I've got a few things of my own, and a bit of a slop-chest: jerseys31 and things as I sell to the men.”
The Captain's wardrobe was of a marine14 character and somewhat rough in texture32. He had, however, a coat and waistcoat of thick blue pilot-cloth which fitted Christian remarkably33 well, but the continuations thereof were so absurdly out of keeping with the young fellow's long limbs as to precipitate34 the skipper on to the verge35 of apoplexy. When he recovered, and his pipe was re-lighted, he left the cabin and went forward to borrow a pair of the required articles from Tom Slake36, an ordinary seaman of tall and slim proportions. In a short time Christian Vellacott bore the outward semblance37 of a very fair specimen38 of the British tar19, except that his cheeks were bleached39 and sunken, which discrepancy40 was promptly41 commented upon by the blunt old sailor.
Secrecy42 was absolutely necessary, so Tom, of the long legs, was the only person to whom Christian's presence was made known; and he it was who (in view of a possible berth43 as steward44 later on) was entrusted45 with the simple culinary duties of the vessel46.
Breakfast, as served up by Tom, was of a noble simplicity47. A long shiny loaf of yesterday's bread, some butter in a saucer—which vessel was deemed entirely48 superfluous49 in connection with cups—brown sugar in an old mustard-tin, with portions of yellow paper adhering to it, and solid slices of bacon brought from the galley50 in their native frying-pan. Such slight drawbacks, however, as there might have been in the matter of table-ware disappeared before the sense of kindly hospitality with which Captain Lebrun poured the tea into a cracked cup and a borrowed pannikin, dropping in the sugar with careful judgment51 from his brown fingers. Such defects as there might have lurked52 in the culinary art as carried on in the galley vanished before the friendly solicitude53 with which Tom tilted54 the frying-pan to pour into Christian's plate a bright flow of bacon-fat cunningly mingled55 with cinders56.
When the meal had been duly despatched Captain Lebrun produced his pipe and proceeded to fill it, after having extracted from its inward parts the usual high-toned squeak.
Christian leant back against the bulkhead with his hands buried deeply in Tom's borrowed pockets. He felt much more at home in pilot cloth than in cashmere.
“There is one more thing I should like to borrow,” he said.
“Ay?” repeated the captain interrogatively, as he searched in his waistcoat-pocket for a match.
“Ay, what is it?”
“A pipe. I have not had a smoke for two months.”
The Captain struck a light upon his leg.
“I've got one somewhere,” he replied reassuringly57; “carried it for many years now, just in case this one fell overboard or got broke.”
Tom, who happened to be present, smiled audibly behind a hand which was hardly a recommendation for the coveted58 berth of steward, but Christian looked at the battered59 pipe with sympathetic gravity.
At ten o'clock the Agnes and Mary warped60 out of harbour and dropped lazily down the Rance, setting sail as she went. Christian had spent most of the morning in the little cabin smoking Captain Lebrun's reserve pipe, and seeking to establish order among the accounts of the ship. The accounts were the bête noire of the old sailor's existence. Upon his own confession61 he “wasn't no arithmetician,” and Christian found, upon inspecting his accounts, no cause to contradict this ambiguous statement.
When the Agnes and Mary was clear of the harbour he went on deck, where activity and maritime62 language reigned63 supreme64. The channel was narrow and the wind light, consequently the little brig drifted more or less at her own sweet will. This would have been well enough had the waterway been clear of other vessels65, but the Jersey steamer was coming in, with her yellow funnel66 gleaming in the sunlight, her mail-flag fluttering at her foremast, and her captain swearing on the bridge, with the whistle-pull in his hand.
Seeing that the Agnes and Mary had no steerage way, the captain stopped his engines for a few minutes, and then went ahead again at half-speed. This brought the vessels close together, and, as is the invariable custom in such circumstances, the two crews stared stonily67 at each other. On the deck were one or two passengers enjoying the morning air after a cramped68 and uncomfortable night. Among these was an old man with a singularly benign69 expression; he was standing near the after-wheel, gazing with senile placidity70 towards St. Malo. As the vessels neared each other, however, he walked towards the rail, and stood there with a pleasant smile upon his face, as if ready to exchange a greeting with any kindred soul upon the Agnes and Mary.
Christian Vellacott, seated upon the rail of the after-deck, saw the old man and watched him with some interest—not, however, altering his position or changing countenance71. The vessels moved slowly on, and, in due course, the two men were opposite to each other, each at the extreme stern of his ship.
Then the young journalist removed Captain Lebrun's spare pipe from his lips, and leaning sideways over the water, called out:
“Good morning, Signor Bruno!”
The effect of this friendly greeting upon the benevolent72 old gentleman was peculiar. He grasped the rail before him with both hands, and stared at the young Englishman. Then he stamped upon the deck with a sudden access of fury.
“Ah!” he exclaimed fiercely, while a tiger-like gleam shone out from beneath his smooth white brows. “Ah! it is you!”
Christian swung his legs idly, and smiled with some amusement across the little strip of water.
Suddenly the old man plunged73 his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat. He appeared to be tugging74 wildly at some article which was caught in the lining75 of his clothes, when a remarkable76 change came over his face. A dull red colour flew to his cheeks, and his eyes gleamed ruddily, as if shot with blood. Then without a word he fell forward with his breast against the painted rail, remained there a second, and as the two ships passed away from each other, rolled over upon his back on the clean deck, grasping a pistol in his right hand.
Christian Vellacott sat still upon the rail, swinging one leg, and smiling reflectively. He saw the old man fall and the other passengers crowd round him, but the Agnes and Mary had now caught the breeze and was moving rapidly out to sea, where the sunlight danced upon the water in little golden bars.
“Apperlexy!” said a voice in the journalist's ear. He turned and found Captain Lebrun standing at his side looking after the steamer. “Apperlexy!”
“Do you think so?” asked Christian.
“I do,” was the reply, given with some conviction. “I seen a man fall just like that; he was a broad-built man wi' a thick neck, and in a moment of excitement he fell just like that, and died a'most at once. Apperlexy they said it was.”
“It seemed to come over him very suddenly, did it not?” said Christian absently.
“Ay, it did,” said the captain. “Ye seemed to know him!”
Christian turned and looked his companion full in the face. “I have met him twice,” he said quietly. “He was in England for some years, I believe; a political refugee, he called himself.”
By sea and land Captain Lebrun had learnt to devote an exclusive attention to his own affairs, allowing other men to manage theirs, well or ill, according to their fancy. He knew that Christian Vellacott wished to tell him no more, and he was content that it should be so, but he had noticed a circumstance which, from the young journalist's position, was probably invisible. He turned to give an order to the man at the wheel, and then walked slowly and with some difficulty (for Captain Lebrun suffered, in a quiet way, agonies from rheumatism) back towards his passenger.
“Seemed to me,” he said reflectively, as he looked upwards77 to see if the foretopsail was shivering, “as if he had something in his hand when a' fell.”
Christian followed the Captain's gaze. The sails were now filling well, and there was an exhilarating sound of straining cordage in the air while the vessel glided78 on. The young journalist was not an impressionable man, but he felt all these things. The sense of open freedom, the gentle rise and fall of the vessel, the whirring breeze, and the distant line of high land up the Rance towards Dinant—all these were surely worth hearing, feeling, and seeing; assuredly, they added to the joy of living.
“Something in his hand,” he repeated gravely; “what was it?”
Captain Lebrun turned sideways towards the steersman, and made a little gesture with his left hand. A wrinkle had appeared in one corner of the foretopsail. Then he looked round the horizon with a sailor's far-seeing gaze, before replying.
Then the two men smoked in silence for some time. The little vessel moved steadily80 out towards the blue water, passing a lighthouse built upon a solitary81 rock, and later a lightship, with its clean red hull82 gleaming in the sunlight as it rose and fell lazily. So close were they to the latter that the man watching on deck waved his hand in salutation.
Still Vellacott had vouchsafed83 no reply to Captain Lebrun's strange statement. He sat on the low rail, swinging one leg monotonously84, while the square little sailor stood at his side with that patient maritime reflectiveness which is being slowly killed by the quicker ways of steam.
“My calling brings me into contact with a rum lot of people,” said the young fellow at last, “and I suppose all of us make enemies without knowing it.”
With this vague elucidation85 the little skipper was forced to content himself. He gave a grunt86 of acquiescence87, and walked forward to superintend the catheading of the anchor.
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1
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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hirsute
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| adj.多毛的 | |
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cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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secreted
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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dictates
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| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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jerseys
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| n.运动衫( jersey的名词复数 ) | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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slake
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| v.解渴，使平息 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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discrepancy
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| n.不同；不符；差异；矛盾 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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45
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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maritime
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| adj.海的，海事的，航海的，近海的，沿海的 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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funnel
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| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
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stonily
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| 石头地，冷酷地 | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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placidity
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| n.平静，安静，温和 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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75
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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76
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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77
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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78
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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79
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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81
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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82
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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83
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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84
monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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85
elucidation
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| n.说明，阐明 | |
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86
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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87
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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