The Worthingtons had plainly the good fortune to be respectable sailors. They reappeared on the second day and established regular habits, after the manner of accustomed travellers. Miss Vanderpoel's habits were regular from the first, and when Salter saw her he was impressed even more at the outset with her air of being at home instead of on board ship. Her practically well-chosen corner was an agreeable place to look at. Her chair was built for ease of angle and width, her cushions were of dark rich colours, her travelling rugs were of black fox fur, and she owned an adjustable9 table for books and accompaniments. She appeared early in the morning and walked until the sea air crimsoned10 her cheeks, she sat and read with evident enjoyment11, she talked to her companions and plainly entertained them.
Salter, being bored and in bad spirits, found himself watching her rather often, but he knew that but for the small, comic episode of Tommy, he would have definitely disliked her. The dislike would not have been fair, but it would have existed in spite of himself. It would not have been fair because it would have been founded simply upon the ignoble12 resentment13 of envy, upon the poor truth that he was not in the state of mind to avoid resenting the injustice14 of fate in bestowing15 multi-millions upon one person and his offspring. He resented his own resentment, but was obliged to acknowledge its existence in his humour. He himself, especially and peculiarly, had always known the bitterness of poverty, the humiliation16 of seeing where money could be well used, indeed, ought to be used, and at the same time having ground into him the fact that there was no money to lay one's hand on. He had hated it even as a boy, because in his case, and that of his people, the whole thing was undignified and unbecoming. It was humiliating to him now to bring home to himself the fact that the thing for which he was inclined to dislike this tall, up-standing17 girl was her unconscious (he realised the unconsciousness of it) air of having always lived in the atmosphere of millions, of never having known a reason why she should not have anything she had a desire for. Perhaps, upon the whole, he said to himself, it was his own ill luck and sense of defeat which made her corner, with its cushions and comforts, her properly attentive18 maid, and her cold weather sables19 expressive20 of a fortune too colossal21 to be decent.
The episode of the plump, despairing Tommy he had liked, however. There had been a fine naturalness about it and a fine practicalness in her prompt order to the elderly nurse that the richly-caparisoned donkey should be sent to her. This had at once made it clear to the donor22 that his gift was too valuable to be left behind.
“She did not care twopence for the lot of us,” was his summing up. “She might have been nothing but the nicest possible warm-hearted nursemaid or a cottage woman who loved the child.”
He was quite aware that though he had found himself more than once observing her, she herself had probably not recognised the trivial fact of his existing upon that other side of the barrier which separated the higher grade of passenger from the lower. There was, indeed, no reason why she should have singled him out for observation, and she was, in fact, too frequently absorbed in her own reflections to be in the frame of mind to remark her fellow passengers to the extent which was generally customary with her. During her crossings of the Atlantic she usually made mental observation of the people on board. This time, when she was not talking to the Worthingtons, or reading, she was thinking of the possibilities of her visit to Stornham. She used to walk about the deck thinking of them and, sitting in her chair, sum them up as her eyes rested on the rolling and breaking waves.
There were many things to be considered, and one of the first was the perfectly23 sane24 suggestion her father had made.
“Suppose she does not want to be rescued? Suppose you find her a comfortable fine lady who adores her husband.”
Such a thing was possible, though Bettina did not think it probable. She intended, however, to prepare herself even for this. If she found Lady Anstruthers plump and roseate, pleased with herself and her position, she was quite equal to making her visit appear a casual and conventional affair.
“I ought to wish it to be so,” she thought, “and, yet, how disappointingly I should feel she had changed. Still, even ethical25 reasons would not excuse one for wishing her to be miserable26.” She was a creature with a number of passionate27 ideals which warred frequently with the practical side of her mentality28. Often she used to walk up and down the deck or lean upon the ship's side, her eyes stormy with emotions.
“I do not want to find Rosy29 a heartless woman, and I do not want to find her wretched. What do I want? Only the usual thing—that what cannot be undone30 had never been done. People are always wishing that.”
She was standing near the second-cabin barrier thinking this, the first time she saw the passenger with the red hair. She had paused by mere31 chance, and while her eyes were stormy with her thought, she suddenly became conscious that she was looking directly into other eyes as darkling as her own. They were those of a man on the wrong side of the barrier. He had a troubled, brooding face, and, as their gaze met, each of them started slightly and turned away with the sense of having unconsciously intruded32 and having been intruded upon.
“That rough-looking man,” she commented to herself, “is as anxious and disturbed as I am.”
Salter did look rough, it was true. His well-worn clothes had suffered somewhat from the restrictions33 of a second-class cabin shared with two other men. But the aspect which had presented itself to her brief glance had been not so much roughness of clothing as of mood expressing itself in his countenance34. He was thinking harshly and angrily of the life ahead of him.
These looks of theirs which had so inadvertently encountered each other were of that order which sometimes startles one when in passing a stranger one finds one's eyes entangled35 for a second in his or hers, as the case may be. At such times it seems for that instant difficult to disentangle one's gaze. But neither of these two thought of the other much, after hurrying away. Each was too fully2 mastered by personal mood.
There would, indeed, have been no reason for their encountering each other further but for “the accident,” as it was called when spoken of afterwards, the accident which might so easily have been a catastrophe37. It occurred that night. This was two nights before they were to land.
Everybody had begun to come under the influence of that cheerfulness of humour, the sense of relief bordering on gaiety, which generally elates people when a voyage is drawing to a close. If one has been dull, one begins to gather one's self together, rejoiced that the boredom38 is over. In any case, there are plans to be made, thought of, or discussed.
“You wish to go to Stornham at once?” Mrs. Worthington said to Bettina. “How pleased Lady Anstruthers and Sir Nigel must be at the idea of seeing you with them after so long.”
“I can scarcely tell you how I am looking forward to it,” Betty answered.
She sat in her corner among her cushions looking at the dark water which seemed to sweep past the ship, and listening to the throb39 of the engines. She was not gay. She was wondering how far the plans she had made would prove feasible. Mrs. Worthington was not aware that her visit to Stornham Court was to be unannounced. It had not been necessary to explain the matter. The whole affair was simple and decorous enough. Miss Vanderpoel was to bid good-bye to her friends and go at once to her sister, Lady Anstruthers, whose husband's country seat was but a short journey from London. Bettina and her father had arranged that the fact should be kept from the society paragraphist. This had required some adroit40 management, but had actually been accomplished41.
As the waves swished past her, Bettina was saying to herself, “What will Rosy say when she sees me! What shall I say when I see Rosy? We are drawing nearer to each other with every wave that passes.”
A fog which swept up suddenly sent them all below rather early. The Worthingtons laughed and talked a little in their staterooms, but presently became quiet and had evidently gone to bed. Bettina was restless and moved about her room alone after she had sent away her maid. She at last sat down and finished a letter she had been writing to her father.
“As I near the land,” she wrote, “I feel a sort of excitement. Several times to-day I have recalled so distinctly the picture of Rosy as I saw her last, when we all stood crowded upon the wharf42 at New York to see her off. She and Nigel were leaning upon the rail of the upper deck. She looked such a delicate, airy little creature, quite like a pretty schoolgirl with tears in her eyes. She was laughing and crying at the same time, and kissing both her hands to us again and again. I was crying passionately43 myself, though I tried to conceal44 the fact, and I remember that each time I looked from Rosy to Nigel's heavy face the poignancy45 of my anguish46 made me break forth47 again. I wonder if it was because I was a child, that he looked such a contemptuous brute48, even when he pretended to smile. It is twelve years since then. I wonder—how I wonder, what I shall find.”
She stopped writing and sat a few moments, her chin upon her hand, thinking. Suddenly she sprang to her feet in alarm. The stillness of the night was broken by wild shouts, a running of feet outside, a tumult49 of mingled50 sounds and motion, a dash and rush of surging water, a strange thumping51 and straining of engines, and a moment later she was hurled52 from one side of her stateroom to the other by a crashing shock which seemed to heave the ship out of the sea, shuddering53 as if the end of all things had come.
It was so sudden and horrible a thing that, though she had only been flung upon a pile of rugs and cushions and was unhurt, she felt as if she had been struck on the head and plunged54 into wild delirium55. Above the sound of the dashing and rocking waves, the straining and roaring of hacking56 engines and the pandemonium57 of voices rose from one end of the ship to the other, one wild, despairing, long-drawn shriek58 of women and children. Bettina turned sick at the mad terror in it—the insensate, awful horror.
She could hear the Worthingtons' tempest of terrified confusion through the partitions between them, and she remembered afterwards that in the space of two or three seconds, and in the midst of their clamour, a hundred incongruous thoughts leaped through her brain. Perhaps they were this moment going down. Now she knew what it was like! This thing she had read of in newspapers! Now she was going down in mid-ocean, she, Betty Vanderpoel! And, as she sprang to clutch her fur coat, there flashed before her mental vision a gruesome picture of the headlines in the newspapers and the inevitable60 reference to the millions she represented.
“I must keep calm,” she heard herself say, as she fastened the long coat, clenching61 her teeth to keep them from chattering62. “Poor Daddy—poor Daddy!”
Maddening new sounds were all about her, sounds of water dashing and churning, sounds of voices bellowing63 out commands, straining and leaping sounds of the engines. What was it—what was it? She must at least find out. Everybody was going mad in the staterooms, the stewards64 were rushing about, trying to quiet people, their own voices shaking and breaking into cracked notes. If the worst had happened, everyone would be fighting for life in a few minutes. Out on deck she must get and find out for herself what the worst was.
She was the first woman outside, though the wails65 and shrieks66 swelled67 below, and half-dressed, ghastly creatures tumbled gasping68 up the companion-way.
“What is it?” she heard. “My God! what's happened? Where's the Captain! Are we going down! The boats! The boats!”
It was useless to speak to the seamen69 rushing by. They did not see, much less hear! She caught sight of a man who could not be a sailor, since he was standing still. She made her way to him, thankful that she had managed to stop her teeth chattering.
“What has happened to us?” she said.
He turned and looked at her straitly. He was the second-cabin passenger with the red hair.
“A tramp steamer has run into us in the fog,” he answered.
“How much harm is done?”
“They are trying to find out. I am standing here on the chance of hearing something. It is madness to ask any man questions.”
“Are you horribly frightened?” he asked.
She stamped her foot.
“I hate it—I hate it!” she said, flinging out her hand towards the black, heaving water. “The plunge—the choking! No one could hate it more. But I want to DO something!”
She was turning away when he caught her hand and held her.
“Wait a second,” he said. “I hate it as much as you do, but I believe we two can keep our heads. Those who can do that may help, perhaps. Let us try to quiet the people. As soon as I find out anything I will come to your friends' stateroom. You are near the boats there. Then I shall go back to the second cabin. You work on your side and I'll work on mine. That's all.”
“Thank you. Tell the Worthingtons. I'm going to the saloon deck.” She was off as she spoke.
Upon the stairway she found herself in the midst of a struggling panic-stricken mob, tripping over each other on the steps, and clutching at any garment nearest, to drag themselves up as they fell, or were on the point of falling. Everyone was crying out in question and appeal.
Bettina stood still, a firm, tall obstacle, and clutched at the hysteric woman who was hurled against her.
“I've been on deck,” she said. “A tramp steamer has run into us. No one has time to answer questions. The first thing to do is to put on warm clothes and secure the life belts in case you need them.”
At once everyone turned upon her as if she was an authority. She replied with almost fierce determination to the torrent70 of words poured forth.
“I know nothing further—only that if one is not a fool one must make sure of clothes and belts.”
“Stop screaming,” Betty said mercilessly to the woman. “It's idiotic—the more noise you make the less chance you have. How can men keep their wits among a mob of shrieking72, mad women?”
That the remote Miss Vanderpoel should have emerged from her luxurious73 corner to frankly74 bully75 the lot of them was an excellent shock for the crowd. Men, who had been in danger of losing their heads and becoming as uncontrolled as the women, suddenly realised the fact and pulled themselves together. Bettina made her way at once to the Worthingtons' staterooms.
There she found frenzy76 reigning77. Blanche and Marie Worthington were darting78 to and fro, dragging about first one thing and then another. They were silly with fright, and dashed at, and dropped alternately, life belts, shoes, jewel cases, and wraps, while they sobbed79 and cried out hysterically80. “Oh, what shall we do with mother! What shall we do!”
The manners of Betty Vanderpoel's sharp schoolgirl days returned to her in full force. She seized Blanche by the shoulder and shook her.
“What a donkey you are!” she said. “Put on your clothes. There they are,” pushing her to the place where they hung. “Marie—dress yourself this moment. We may be in no real danger at all.”
“Where is your mother?”
“She fainted—Louise——”
Betty was in Mrs. Worthington's cabin before they had finished speaking. The poor woman had fainted, and struck her cheek against a chair. She lay on the floor in her nightgown, with blood trickling82 from a cut on her face. Her maid, Louise, was wringing83 her hands, and doing nothing whatever.
“If you don't bring the brandy this minute,” said the beautiful Miss Vanderpoel, “I'll box your ears. Believe me, my girl.” She looked so capable of doing it that the woman was startled and actually offended into a return of her senses. Miss Vanderpoel had usually the best possible manners in dealing84 with her inferiors.
Betty poured brandy down Mrs. Worthington's throat and applied85 strong smelling salts until she gasped back to consciousness. She had just burst into frightened sobs86, when Betty heard confusion and exclamations87 in the adjoining room. Blanche and Marie had cried out, and a man's voice was speaking. Betty went to them. They were in various stages of undress, and the red-haired second-cabin passenger was standing at the door.
“I come to tell you that it seems absolutely to be relied on that there is no immediate89 danger. The tramp is more injured than we are.”
“Yes,” he answered. “Can I do anything for you?” he said to Bettina, who was on the point of speaking.
“Will you be good enough to help me to assist Mrs. Worthington into her berth91, and then try to find the doctor.”
He went into the next room without speaking. To Mrs. Worthington he spoke briefly92 a few words of reassurance93. He was a powerful man, and laid her on her berth without dragging her about uncomfortably, or making her feel that her weight was greater than even in her most desponding moments she had suspected. Even her helplessly hysteric mood was illuminated94 by a ray of grateful appreciation95.
“Oh, thank you—thank you,” she murmured. “And you are quite sure there is no actual danger, Mr.——?”
“Salter,” he terminated for her. “You may feel safe. The damage is really only slight, after all.”
“It is so good of you to come and tell us,” said the poor lady, still tremulous. “The shock was awful. Our introduction has been an alarming one. I—I don't think we have met during the voyage.”
“No,” replied Salter. “I am in the second cabin.”
“Oh! thank you. It's so good of you,” she faltered96 amiably97, for want of inspiration. As he went out of the stateroom, Salter spoke to Bettina.
“I will send the doctor, if I can find him,” he said. “I think, perhaps, you had better take some brandy yourself. I shall.”
“It's queer how little one seems to realise even that there are second-cabin passengers,” commented Mrs. Worthington feebly. “That was a nice man, and perfectly respectable. He even had a kind of—of manner.”
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1
quota
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| n.（生产、进出口等的）配额，（移民的）限额 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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enthusiasts
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| n.热心人，热衷者( enthusiast的名词复数 ) | |
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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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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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adjustable
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| adj.可调整的，可校准的 | |
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crimsoned
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| 变为深红色（crimson的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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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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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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sables
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| n.紫貂( sable的名词复数 )；紫貂皮；阴暗的；暗夜 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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donor
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| n.捐献者；赠送人；(组织、器官等的)供体 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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ethical
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| adj.伦理的，道德的，合乎道德的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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restrictions
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| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
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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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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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adroit
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| adj.熟练的，灵巧的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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44
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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poignancy
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| n.辛酸事，尖锐 | |
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46
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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50
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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51
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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52
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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53
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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54
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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55
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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56
hacking
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| n.非法访问计算机系统和数据库的活动 | |
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57
pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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58
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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wails
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| 痛哭，哭声( wail的名词复数 ) | |
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shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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reigning
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| adj.统治的，起支配作用的 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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86
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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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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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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