A light—clear, ruddy and brilliant, like a huge carbuncle—uprose one evening from the deep, and remained hovering2 about forty feet above the surface, scattering3 its rays far and wide, over the Downs to Ramsgate and Deal, along the coast towards Dover, away beyond the North Foreland, across the Goodwin Sands, and far out upon the bosom4 of the great North Sea.
It was a chill November evening, when this light arose, in the year—well, it matters not what year. We have good reasons, reader, for shrouding5 this point in mystery. It may have been recently; it may have been “long, long ago.” We don’t intend to tell. It was not the first time of that light’s appearance, and it certainly was not the last. Let it suffice that what we are about to relate did happen, sometime or other within the present century.
Besides being cold, the evening in question was somewhat stormy—“gusty,” as was said of it by a traveller with a stern visage and remarkably6 keen grey eyes, who entered the coffee-room of an hotel which stood on the margin7 of Ramsgate harbour facing the sea, and from the upper windows of which the light just mentioned was visible.
“It is, sir,” said the waiter, in reply to the “gusty” observation, stirring the fire while the traveller divested8 himself of his hat and greatcoat.
“Think it’s going to blow hard?” inquired the traveller, planting himself firmly on the hearth-rug, with his back to the fire, and his thumbs hooked into the armholes of his waistcoat.
“It may, sir, and it may not,” answered the waiter, with the caution of a man who has resolved, come what may, never to commit himself. “Sometimes it comes on to blow, sir, w’en we don’t look for it; at other times it falls calm w’en we least expects it. I don’t pretend to understand much about the weather myself, sir, but I shouldn’t wonder if it was to come on to blow ’ard. It ain’t an uncommon9 thing at Ramsgate, sir.”
The traveller, who was a man of few words, said “Humph!” to which the waiter dutifully replied “Yessir,” feeling, no doubt, that the observation was too limited to warrant a lengthened10 rejoinder.
The waiter of the Fortress11 Hotel had a pleasant, sociable12, expressive13 countenance14, which beamed into a philanthropic smile as he added—
“Can I do anything for you, sir?”
“Yes—tea,” answered the traveller with the keen grey eyes, turning, and poking15 the fire with the heel of his boot.
“Anything with it, sir?” asked the waiter with that charmingly confident air peculiar16 to his class, which induces one almost to believe that if a plate of elephant’s foot or a slice of crocodile’s tail were ordered it would be produced, hot, in a few minutes.
“D’you happen to know a man of the name of Jones in the town?” demanded the traveller, facing round abruptly17.
The waiter replied that he had the pleasure of knowing at least seven Joneses in the town.
“Yessir, he do, but he don’t live in Ramsgate; he belongs to Yarmouth, sir, comes ’ere only now and then.”
“D’you know anything about him?”
“No, sir, he don’t frequent this ’otel.”
The waiter said this in a tone which showed that he deemed that fact sufficient to render Jones altogether unworthy of human interest; “but I believe,” he added slowly, “that he is said to ’ave plenty of money, bears a bad character, and is rather fond of his bottle, sir.”
“You know nothing more?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Ham and eggs, dry toast and shrimps19,” said the keen-eyed traveller in reply to the reiterated20 question.
Before these viands21 were placed on the table the brief twilight22 had passed away and darkness en-shrouded land and sea. After they had been consumed the traveller called for the latest local paper, to which he devoted23 himself for an hour with unflagging zeal—reading it straight through, apparently24, advertisements and all, with as much diligence as if it were a part of his professional business to do so. Then he tossed it away, rang the bell, and ordered a candle.
“I suppose,” he said, pointing towards the sea, as he was about to quit the room, “that that is the floating light?”
“It is one of ’em, sir,” replied the waiter. “There are three lights on the sands, sir; the Northsan ’ead, the Gull25-stream, and the Southsan ’ead. That one, sir, is the Gull.”
“How far off may it be?”
“About four miles, sir.”
“What is the mate’s name?”
“Welton, sir, John Welton.”
“Is he aboard just now?”
“Yessir, it’s the master’s month ashore26. The master and mate ’ave it month an’ month about, sir—one month afloat, next month ashore; but it seems to me, sir, that they have ’arder work w’en ashore than they ’ave w’en afloat—lookin’ after the Trinity stores, sir, an’ goin’ off in the tender to shift and paint the buoys27 an’ such like; but then you see, sir, w’en it’s their turn ashore they always gits home to spend the nights with their families, sir, w’ich is a sort of compensation, as it were,—that’s where it is, sir.”
“Humph! d’you know what time it is slack water out there in the afternoon just now?”
“About three o’clock, sir.”
“Call me at nine to-morrow; breakfast at half-past; beefsteaks, coffee, dry toast. Good-night.”
“Yessir—good-night, sir—Number 27, sir, first floor, left-hand side.”
Number 27 slammed his door with that degree of violence which indicates a stout28 arm and an easy conscience. In less than quarter of an hour the keen grey eyes were veiled in slumber29, as was proved unmistakably to the household by the sounds that proceeded from the nose to which these eyes belonged.
It is not unfrequently found that strength of mind, vigour30 of body, high colour, and a tremendous appetite are associated with great capacity for snoring. The man with the keen grey eyes possessed31 all these qualities, as well as a large chin and a firm mouth, full of very strong white teeth. He also possessed the convenient power of ability to go to sleep at a moment’s notice and to remain in that felicitous32 condition until he chose to awake. His order to be “called” in the morning had reference merely to hot water; for at the time of which we write men were still addicted34 to the ridiculous practice of shaving—a practice which, as every one knows, is now confined chiefly to very old men—who naturally find it difficult to give up the bad habit of a lifetime—and to little boys, who erroneously suppose that the use of a sharp penknife will hasten Nature’s operations.
Exactly at nine o’clock, a knock at the door and “’Ot water, sir,” sounded in the ears of Nunber 27. At half-past nine precisely35 Number 27 entered the coffee-room, and was so closely followed by the waiter with breakfast that it seemed as if that self-sacrificing functionary36 had sat up all night keeping the meal hot in order to testify, by excessive punctuality, the devotion of his soul to duty.
The keen-eyed man had a keen appetite, if one might judge from appearances in such a matter. A thick underdone steak that overwhelmed his plate appeared to melt away rapidly from before him. Potatoes he disposed of in two bites each; small ones were immolated37 whole. Of mustard he used as much as might have made a small-sized plaster; pepper he sowed broadcast; he made no account whatever of salt, and sugar was as nothing before him. There was a peculiar crash in the sound produced by the biting of his toast, which was suggestive at once of irresistible38 power and thorough disintegration39. Coffee went down in half-cup gulps40; shrimps disappeared in shoals, shells and all; and—in short, his proceedings41 might have explained to an intelligent observer how it is that so many men grow to be exceedingly fat, and why it is that hotel proprietors42 cannot afford to lower their apparently exorbitant43 charges. The waiter, standing44 modestly by, and looking on with solemn interest, mentally attributed the traveller’s extraordinary powers and high health to the fact that he neither smoked nor drank. It would be presumptuous45 in us to hazard a speculation46 on this subject in the face of an opinion held by one who was so thoroughly47 competent to judge.
Breakfast over, the keen-eyed man put on his hat and overcoat and sallied forth48 to the harbour, where he spent the greater part of the forenoon in loitering about, inspecting the boats—particularly the lifeboat—and the shipping49 with much interest, and entering into conversation with the boatmen who lounged upon the pier50. He was very gracious to the coxswain of the lifeboat—a bluff51, deep-chested, hearty52, neck-or-nothing sort of man, with an intelligent eye, almost as keen as his own, and a manner quite as prompt. With this coxswain he conversed53 long about the nature of his stirring and dangerous duties. He then made inquiry54 about his crew: how many men he had, and their circumstances; and, by the way, whether any of them happened to be named Jones. One of them was so named, the coxswain said—Tom Jones. This led the traveller to ask if Tom Jones owned a small sloop. No, he didn’t own a sloop, not even a boat. Was there any other Jones in the town who owned a small sloop and dealt largely in cured fish? Yes there was, and he was a regular gallow’s-bird, if all reports were true, the coxswain told him.
The traveller did not press the subject long. Having brought it up as it were incidentally, he dismissed it carelessly, and again concentrated his attention and interest on the lifeboat.
To all the men with whom he conversed this bluff man with the keen grey eyes put the same question, and he so contrived55 to put it that it seemed to be a matter of comparatively little interest to him whether there was or was not a man of the name of Jones in the town. Nevertheless, he gained all the information about Jones that he desired, and then, hiring a boat, set out for the floating light.
The weather, that had appeared threatening during the night, suddenly became calm and fine, as if to corroborate56 the statement of the waiter of the Fortress Hotel in regard to its uncertainty57; but knowing men in oilcloth sou’westers and long boots gave it as their opinion that the weather was not to be trusted. Fortunately for the traveller, it remained trustworthy long enough to serve his purpose. The calm permitted his boat to go safely alongside of the light-ship, and to climb up the side without difficulty.
The vessel58 in which he found himself was not by any means what we should style clipper-built—quite the reverse. It was short for its length, bluff in the bows, round in the stern, and painted all over, excepting the mast and deck, of a bright red colour, like a great scarlet59 dragon, or a gigantic boiled lobster60. It might have been mistaken for the first attempt in the ship-building way of an infatuated boy, whose acquaintance with ships was founded on hearsay61, and whose taste in colour was violently eccentric. This remarkable62 thing had one immense mast in the middle of it, supported by six stays, like the Norse galleys63 of old, but it had no yards; for, although the sea was indeed its home, and it incessantly64 braved the fury of the storm, diurnally65 cleft66 the waters of flood and ebb-tide, and gallantly67 breasted the billows of ocean all the year round, it had no need of sails. It never advanced an inch on its course, for it had no course. It never made for any port. It was never either homeward or outward bound. No streaming eyes ever watched its departure; no beating hearts ever hailed its return. Its bowsprit never pointed69 either to “Greenland’s icy mountains, or India’s coral strand,” for it had no bowsprit at all. Its helm was never swayed to port or starboard, although it had a helm, because the vessel turned submissive with the tides, and its rudder, being lashed70 hard and fast amidships—like most weather-cocks—couldn’t move. Its doom71 was to tug72 perpetually, day and night, from year to year, at a gigantic anchor which would not let go, and to strain at a monster chain-cable which would not snap—in short, to strive for ever, like Sisyphus, after something which can never be attained73.
A sad destiny, some may be tempted74 to exclaim. No, reader, not so sad as it appears. We have presented but one side of the picture. That curious, almost ridiculous-looking craft, was among the aristocracy of shipping. Its important office stamped it with nobility. It lay there, conspicuous75 in its royal colour, from day to day and year to year, to mark the fair-way between the white cliffs of Old England and the outlying shoals—distinguished in daylight by a huge ball at its mast-head, and at night by a magnificent lantern with argand lamps and concave reflectors, which shot its rays like lightning far and wide over the watery76 waste, while, in thick weather, when neither ball nor light could be discerned, a sonorous77 gong gave its deep-toned warning to the approaching mariner78, and let him know his position amid the surrounding dangers. Without such warnings by night and by day, the world would suffer the loss of thousands of lives and untold79 millions of gold. Indeed the mere33 absence of such warnings for one stormy night would certainly result in loss irreparable to life and property. As well might Great Britain dispense80 with her armies as with her floating lights! That boiled-lobster-like craft was also, if we may be allowed to say so, stamped with magnanimity, because its services were disinterested81 and universal. While other ships were sailing grandly to their ports in all their canvas panoply82, and swelling83 with the pride of costly84 merchandise within, each unmindful of the other, this ship remained floating there, destitute85 of cargo86, either rich or poor, never in port, always on service, serene87 in all the majesty88 of her one settled self-sacrificing purpose—to guide the converging89 navies of the world safely past the dangerous shoals that meet them on their passage to the world’s greatest port, the Thames, or to speed them safely thence when outward-bound. That unclipperly craft, moreover, was a gallant68 vessel, because its post was one of danger. When other ships fled on the wings of terror—or of storm trysails—to seek refuge in harbour and roadstead, this one merely lengthened her cable—as a knight90 might shake loose the reins91 of his war-horse on the eve of conflict—and calmly awaited the issue, prepared to let the storm do its worst, and to meet it with a bold front. It lay right in the Channel, too, “i’ the imminent92 deadly breach,” as it were, prepared to risk encounter with the thousands of ships, great and small, which passed to and fro continually;—to be grazed and fouled93 by clumsy steersmen, and to be run into at night by unmanageable wrecks94 or derelicts; ready for anything in fact—come weal come woe95, blow high blow low—in the way of duty, for this vessel was the Floating Light that marked the Gull-stream off the celebrated96 and fatal Goodwin Sands.
点击收听单词发音
1 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 hovering | |
鸟( hover的现在分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 scattering | |
n.[物]散射;散乱,分散;在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的;分散在不同范围的;广泛扩散的;(选票)数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式);散布;驱散 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 shrouding | |
n.覆盖v.隐瞒( shroud的现在分词 );保密 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 margin | |
n.页边空白;差额;余地,余裕;边,边缘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 divested | |
v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 );脱去(衣服);2。从…取去…;1。(给某人)脱衣服 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 uncommon | |
adj.罕见的,非凡的,不平常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 lengthened | |
(时间或空间)延长,伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 fortress | |
n.堡垒,防御工事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 sociable | |
adj.好交际的,友好的,合群的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 expressive | |
adj.表现的,表达…的,富于表情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 poking | |
n. 刺,戳,袋 vt. 拨开,刺,戳 vi. 戳,刺,捅,搜索,伸出,行动散慢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 sloop | |
n.单桅帆船 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 shrimps | |
n.虾,小虾( shrimp的名词复数 );矮小的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 reiterated | |
反复地说,重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 viands | |
n.食品,食物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 gull | |
n.鸥;受骗的人;v.欺诈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 ashore | |
adv.在(向)岸上,上岸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 buoys | |
n.浮标( buoy的名词复数 );航标;救生圈;救生衣v.使浮起( buoy的第三人称单数 );支持;为…设浮标;振奋…的精神 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 slumber | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 vigour | |
(=vigor)n.智力,体力,精力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 felicitous | |
adj.恰当的,巧妙的;n.恰当,贴切 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 addicted | |
adj.沉溺于....的,对...上瘾的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 functionary | |
n.官员;公职人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 immolated | |
v.宰杀…作祭品( immolate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 disintegration | |
n.分散,解体 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 gulps | |
n.一大口(尤指液体)( gulp的名词复数 )v.狼吞虎咽地吃,吞咽( gulp的第三人称单数 );大口地吸(气);哽住 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 proprietors | |
n.所有人,业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 exorbitant | |
adj.过分的;过度的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 presumptuous | |
adj.胆大妄为的,放肆的,冒昧的,冒失的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 speculation | |
n.思索,沉思;猜测;投机 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 shipping | |
n.船运(发货,运输,乘船) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 pier | |
n.码头;桥墩,桥柱;[建]窗间壁,支柱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 bluff | |
v.虚张声势,用假象骗人;n.虚张声势,欺骗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 corroborate | |
v.支持,证实,确定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 lobster | |
n.龙虾,龙虾肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 hearsay | |
n.谣传,风闻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 galleys | |
n.平底大船,战舰( galley的名词复数 );(船上或航空器上的)厨房 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 incessantly | |
ad.不停地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 diurnally | |
adv.白天活动地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 cleft | |
n.裂缝;adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 gallantly | |
adv. 漂亮地,勇敢地,献殷勤地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 doom | |
n.厄运,劫数;v.注定,命定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 tug | |
v.用力拖(或拉);苦干;n.拖;苦干;拖船 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 watery | |
adj.有水的,水汪汪的;湿的,湿润的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 sonorous | |
adj.响亮的,回响的;adv.圆润低沉地;感人地;n.感人,堂皇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 mariner | |
n.水手号不载人航天探测器,海员,航海者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 untold | |
adj.数不清的,无数的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 dispense | |
vt.分配,分发;配(药),发(药);实施 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 disinterested | |
adj.不关心的,不感兴趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 panoply | |
n.全副甲胄,礼服 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 costly | |
adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 destitute | |
adj.缺乏的;穷困的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 cargo | |
n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 converging | |
adj.收敛[缩]的,会聚的,趋同的v.(线条、运动的物体等)会于一点( converge的现在分词 );(趋于)相似或相同;人或车辆汇集;聚集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 reins | |
感情,激情; 缰( rein的名词复数 ); 控制手段; 掌管; (成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的)保护带 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 imminent | |
adj.即将发生的,临近的,逼近的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 fouled | |
v.使污秽( foul的过去式和过去分词 );弄脏;击球出界;(通常用废物)弄脏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 wrecks | |
n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 );(事故中)遭严重毁坏的汽车(或飞机等);(身体或精神上)受到严重损伤的人;状况非常糟糕的车辆(或建筑物等)v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 );使(船舶)失事,使遇难,使下沉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 woe | |
n.悲哀,苦痛,不幸,困难;int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |