I had seen him a score of times, at table, insulting this hunter or that with cool and level eyes and, withal, a certain air of interest, pondering their actions or replies or petty rages with a curiosity almost laughable to me who stood onlooker5 and who understood. Concerning his own rages, I was convinced that they were not real, that they were sometimes experiments, but that in the main they were the habits of a pose or attitude he had seen fit to take toward his fellowmen. I knew, with the possible exception of the incident of the dead mate, that I had not seen him really angry; nor did I wish ever to see him in a genuine rage, when all the force of him would be called into play.
While on the question of vagaries, I shall tell what befell Thomas Mugridge in the cabin, and at the same time complete an incident upon which I have already touched once or twice. The twelve o'clock dinner was over, one day, and I had just finished putting the cabin in order, when Wolf Larsen and Thomas Mugridge descended6 the companion-stairs. Though the cook had a cubby-hole of a state-room opening off from the cabin, in the cabin itself he had never dared to linger or to be seen, and he flitted to and fro, once or twice a day, like a timid specter.
'So you know how to play Nap,' Wolf Larsen was saying in a pleased sort of voice. 'I might have guessed an Englishman would know. I learned it myself in English ships.'
Thomas Mugridge was beside himself, a blithering imbecile, so pleased was he at chumming thus with the captain. The little airs he put on, and the painful striving to assume the easy carriage of a man born to a dignified7 place in life, would have been sickening had they not been ludicrous. He quite ignored my presence, though I credited him with being simply unable to see me. His pale, wishy-washy eyes were swimming like lazy summer seas, though what blissful visions they beheld8 were beyond my imagination.
'Get the cards, Hump,' Wolf Larsen ordered, as they took seats at the table, 'and bring out the cigars and the whiskey you'll find in my berth9.'
I returned with the articles in time to hear the Cockney hinting broadly that there was a mystery about him- that he might be a gentleman's son gone wrong or something or other; also, that he was a remittance-man, and was paid to keep away from- England- 'p'yed 'an'somely, sir,' was the way he put it; 'p'yed 'an'somely to sling10 my 'ook an' keep slingin' it.'
I had brought the customary liquor-glasses, but Wolf Larsen frowned, shook his head, and signaled with his hands for me to bring the tumblers. These he filled two thirds full with undiluted whiskey,- 'a gentleman's drink,' quoth Thomas Mugridge,- and they clinked their glasses to the glorious game of Nap, lighted cigars, and fell to shuffling11 and dealing12 the cards.
They played for money. They increased the amounts of the bets. They drank whiskey, they drank it neat, and I fetched more. I do not know whether Wolf Larsen cheated,- a thing he was thoroughly13 capable of doing,- but he won steadily14. The cook made repeated journeys to his bunk15 for money. Each time he performed the journey with greater swagger, but he never brought more than a few dollars at a time. He grew maudlin16, familiar, could hardly see the cards or sit upright. As a preliminary to another journey to his bunk, he hooked Wolf Larsen's buttonhole with a greasy17 forefinger18 and vacuously19 proclaimed and reiterated20: 'I got money. I got money, I tell yer, an' I'm a gentleman's son.'
Wolf Larsen was unaffected by the drink, yet he drank glass for glass, and, if anything, his glasses were fuller. There was no change in him. He did not appear even amused at the other's antics.
In the end, with loud protestations that he could lose like a gentleman, the cook's last money was staked on the game and lost. Whereupon he leaned his head on his hands and wept. Wolf Larsen looked curiously21 at him, as though about to probe and vivisect him, then changed his mind, as from the foregone conclusion that there was nothing there to probe.
'Hump,' he said to me, elaborately polite, 'kindly22 take Mr. Mugridge's arm and help him up on deck. He is not feeling very well. And tell Johansen to douse23 him with a few buckets of salt water,' he added in a lower tone, for my ear alone.
I left Mr. Mugridge on deck, in the hands of a couple of grinning sailors who had been told off for the purpose. Mr. Mugridge was sleepily spluttering that he was a gentleman's son. But as I descended the companion-stairs to clear the table I heard him shriek24 as the first bucket of water struck him.
Wolf Larsen was counting his winnings.
'One hundred and eighty-five dollars, even,' he said aloud. 'Just as I thought. The beggar came aboard without a cent.'
'And what you have won is mine, sir,' I said boldly.
He favored me with a quizzical smile. 'Hump, I have studied some grammar in my time, and I think your tenses are tangled25. "Was mine," you should have said, not "is mine."'
'It is a question, not of grammar, but of ethics26,' I answered.
It was possibly a minute before he spoke27.
'D' ye know, Hump,' he said, with a slow seriousness which had in it an indefinable strain of sadness, 'that this is the first time I have heard the word "ethics" in the mouth of a man. You and I are the only men on this ship who know its meaning.'
'At one time in my life,' he continued, after another pause, 'I dreamed that I might some day talk with men who used such language, that I might lift myself out of the place in life in which I had been born, and hold conversations and mingle28 with men who talked about just such things as ethics. And this is the first time I have ever heard the word pronounced. Which is all by the way, for you are wrong. It is a question neither of grammar nor ethics, but of fact.'
'I understand,' I said. 'The fact is that you have the money.'
His face brightened. He seemed pleased at my perspicacity29.
'But it's avoiding the real question,' I continued, 'which is one of right.'
'Ah,' he remarked, with a wry30 pucker31 of his mouth, 'I see you still believe in such things as right and wrong.'
'But don't you- at all?' I demanded.
'Not the least bit. Might is right, and that is all there is to it. Weakness is wrong. Which is a very poor way of saying that it is good for oneself to be strong, and evil for oneself to be weak, or, better yet, it is pleasurable to be strong, because of the profits; painful to be weak, because of the penalties. just now the possession of this money is a pleasurable thing. It is good for one to possess it. Being able to possess it, I wrong myself and the life that is in me if I give it to you and forego the pleasure of possessing it.'
'But you wrong me by withholding32 it,' I objected.
'Not at all. One man cannot wrong another man. He can only wrong himself. As I see it, I do wrong always when I consider the interests of others. Don't you see? How can two particles of the yeast33 wrong each other by striving to devour34 each other? It is their inborn35 heritage to strive to devour, and to strive not to be devoured36. When they depart from this they sin.'
'Then you don't believe in altruism37?' I asked.
He received the word as though it had a familiar ring, though he pondered it thoughtfully. 'Let me see; it means something about cooperation, doesn't it?'
Well, in a way there has come to be a sort of connection,' I answered, unsurprised by this time at such gaps in his vocabulary, which, like his knowledge, was the acquirement of a self-read, self-educated man whom no one had directed in his studies, and who had thought much and talked little or not at all. 'An altruistic38 act is an act performed for the welfare of others. It is unselfish, as opposed to an act performed for self, which is selfish.'
He nodded his head. 'Oh, yes, I remember it now. I ran across it in Spencer.'
'Spencer!' I cried. 'Have you read him?'
'Not very much,' was his confession39. 'I understood quite a good deal of "First Principles," but his "Biology" took the wind out of my sails, and his "Psychology40" left me butting41 around in the doldrums for many a day. I honestly could not understand what he was driving at. I put it down to mental deficiency on my part, but since then I have decided42 that it was for want of preparation. I had no proper basis. Only Spencer and myself know how hard I hammered. But I did get something out of his "Data of Ethics." There's where I ran across "altruism," and I remember now how it was used.'
I wondered what this man could have got from such a work. Spencer I remembered enough to know that altruism was imperative43 to his ideal of highest conduct. Wolf Larsen evidently had sifted44 the great philosopher's teachings, rejecting and selecting according to his needs and desires.
'What else did you run across?' I asked.
His brows drew in slightly with the mental effort of suitably phrasing thoughts which he had never before put into speech. I felt an elation45 of spirit. I was groping in his soul-stuff, as he made a practice of groping in the soul-stuff of others. I was exploring virgin46 territory. A strange, a terribly strange region was unrolling itself before my eyes.
'In as few words as possible,' he began, 'Spencer puts it something like this: First, a man must act for his own benefit- to do this is to be moral and good. Next, he must act for the benefit of his children. And third, he must act for the benefit of his race.'
'And the highest, finest right conduct,' I interjected, 'is that act which benefits at the same time the man, his children, and his race.'
'I wouldn't stand for that,' he replied. 'Couldn't see the necessity for it, nor the common sense. I cut out the race and the children. I would sacrifice nothing for them. It's just so much slush and sentiment, and you must see it yourself, at least for one who does not believe in eternal life. With immortality47 before me, altruism would be a paying business proposition. I might elevate my soul to all kinds of altitudes. But with nothing eternal before me but death, given for a brief spell this yeasty crawling and squirming which is called life, why, it would be immoral48 for me to perform any act that was a sacrifice. Any sacrifice that makes me lose one crawl or squirm is foolish; and not only foolish, for it is a wrong against myself, and a wicked thing. I must not lose one crawl or squirm if I am to get the most out of the ferment49. Nor will the eternal movelessness that is coming to me be made easier or harder by the sacrifices or selfishnesses of the time when I was yeasty and acrawl.'
'Then you are an individualist, a materialist50, and, logically, a hedonist.'
'Big words,' he smiled. 'But what is a hedonist?'
He nodded agreement when I had given the definition.
'And you are also,' I continued, 'a man one could not trust in the least thing where it was possible for a selfish interest to intervene?'
'Now you're beginning to understand,' he said, brightening.
'You are a man utterly51 without what the world calls morals?'
'That's it.'
'A man of whom to be always afraid-'
'That's the way to put it.'
'As one is afraid of a snake, or a tiger, or a shark?'
'Now you know me,' he said. 'And you know me as I am generally known. Other men call me "Wolf."'
'You are a sort of monster,' I added audaciously, 'a Caliban who has pondered Setebos, and who acts as you act, in idle moments, by whim52 and fancy.'
His brow clouded at the allusion53. He did not understand, and I quickly learned that he did not know the poem.
'I'm just reading Browning,' he confessed, 'and it's pretty tough. I haven't got very far along, and as it is, I've about lost my bearings.'
Not to be tiresome54, I shall say that I fetched the book from his state-room and read 'Caliban' aloud. He was delighted. It was a primitive mode of reasoning and of looking at things that he understood thoroughly. He interrupted again and again with comment and criticism. When I finished, he had me read it over a second time, and a third. We fell into discussion- philosophy, science, evolution, religion. He betrayed the inaccuracies of the self-read man, and, it must be granted, the certitude and directness of the primitive mind. The very simplicity55 of his reasoning was its strength, and his materialism56 was far more compelling than the subtly complex materialism of Charley Furuseth. Not that I, a confirmed, and, as Furuseth phrased it, a temperamental, idealist, was to be compelled; but that Wolf Larsen stormed the last strongholds of my faith with a vigor57 that received respect while not accorded conviction.
Time passed. Supper was at hand and the table not laid. I became restless and anxious, and when Thomas Mugridge glared down the companionway, sick and angry of countenance58, I prepared to go about my duties. But Wolf Larsen cried out to him':
'Cooky, you've got to hustle59 tonight. I'm busy with Hump, and you'll do the best you can without him.'
And again the unprecedented60 was established. That night I sat at table with the captain and the hunters, while Thomas Mugridge waited on us and washed the dishes afterward- a whim, a Caliban-mood of Wolf Larsen's, and one I foresaw would bring me trouble. In the meantime we talked and talked, much to the disgust of the hunters, who could not understand a word.
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1
vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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virility
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| n.雄劲，丈夫气 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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onlooker
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| n.旁观者，观众 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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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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sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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vacuously
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| adv.无意义地，茫然若失地，无所事事地 | |
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reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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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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23
douse
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| v.把…浸入水中，用水泼；n.泼洒 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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25
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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26
ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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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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28
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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perspicacity
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| n. 敏锐, 聪明, 洞察力 | |
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wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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pucker
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| v.撅起，使起皱；n.（衣服上的）皱纹，褶子 | |
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32
withholding
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| 扣缴税款 | |
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33
yeast
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| n.酵母；酵母片；泡沫；v.发酵；起泡沫 | |
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34
devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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inborn
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| adj.天生的，生来的，先天的 | |
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36
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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37
altruism
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| n.利他主义，不自私 | |
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altruistic
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| adj.无私的，为他人着想的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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40
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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41
butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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42
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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43
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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44
sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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45
elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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46
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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47
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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48
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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49
ferment
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| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
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50
materialist
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| n. 唯物主义者 | |
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51
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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52
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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53
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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54
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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55
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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56
materialism
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| n.［哲］唯物主义，唯物论；物质至上 | |
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57
vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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58
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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59
hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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60
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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