the mirror of the sea-第38部分

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joyously　to　her　death　before。　　She　rose　and　fell；　as　if　floating　in



space；　and　darted　forward；　whizzing　like　an　arrow。　　Dominic；



stooping　under　the　foot　of　the　foresail；　reappeared；　and　stood



steadying　himself　against　the　mast；　with　a　raised　forefinger　in　an



attitude　of　expectant　attention。　　A　second　before　the　shock　his　arm



fell　down　by　his　side。　　At　that　I　set　my　teeth。　　And　then　…







Talk　of　splintered　planks　and　smashed　timbers！　　This　shipwreck　lies



upon　my　soul　with　the　dread　and　horror　of　a　homicide；　with　the



unforgettable　remorse　of　having　crushed　a　living；　faithful　heart　at



a　single　blow。　　At　one　moment　the　rush　and　the　soaring　swing　of



speed；　the　next　a　crash；　and　death；　stillness　…　a　moment　of



horrible　immobility；　with　the　song　of　the　wind　changed　to　a



strident　wail；　and　the　heavy　waters　boiling　up　menacing　and



sluggish　around　the　corpse。　　I　saw　in　a　distracting　minute　the



foreyard　fly　fore　and　aft　with　a　brutal　swing；　the　men　all　in　a



heap；　cursing　with　fear；　and　hauling　frantically　at　the　line　of　the



boat。　　With　a　strange　welcoming　of　the　familiar　I　saw　also　Cesar



amongst　them；　and　recognised　Dominic's　old；　well…known；　effective



gesture；　the　horizontal　sweep　of　his　powerful　arm。　　I　recollect



distinctly　saying　to　myself；　〃Cesar　must　go　down；　of　course；〃　and



then；　as　I　was　scrambling　on　all　fours；　the　swinging　tiller　I　had



let　go　caught　me　a　crack　under　the　ear；　and　knocked　me　over



senseless。







I　don't　think　I　was　actually　unconscious　for　more　than　a　few



minutes；　but　when　I　came　to　myself　the　dinghy　was　driving　before



the　wind　into　a　sheltered　cove；　two　men　just　keeping　her　straight



with　their　oars。　　Dominic；　with　his　arm　round　my　shoulders；



supported　me　in　the　stern…sheets。







We　landed　in　a　familiar　part　of　the　country。　　Dominic　took　one　of



the　boat's　oars　with　him。　　I　suppose　he　was　thinking　of　the　stream



we　would　have　presently　to　cross；　on　which　there　was　a　miserable



specimen　of　a　punt；　often　robbed　of　its　pole。　　But　first　of　all　we



had　to　ascend　the　ridge　of　land　at　the　back　of　the　Cape。　　He　helped



me　up。　　I　was　dizzy。　　My　head　felt　very　large　and　heavy。　　At　the



top　of　the　ascent　I　clung　to　him；　and　we　stopped　to　rest。







To　the　right；　below　us；　the　wide；　smoky　bay　was　empty。　　Dominic　had



kept　his　word。　　There　was　not　a　chip　to　be　seen　around　the　black



rock　from　which　the　Tremolino；　with　her　plucky　heart　crushed　at　one



blow；　had　slipped　off　into　deep　water　to　her　eternal　rest。　　The



vastness　of　the　open　sea　was　smothered　in　driving　mists；　and　in　the



centre　of　the　thinning　squall；　phantom…like；　under　a　frightful



press　of　canvas；　the　unconscious　guardacosta　dashed　on；　still



chasing　to　the　northward。　　Our　men　were　already　descending　the



reverse　slope　to　look　for　that　punt　which　we　knew　from　experience



was　not　always　to　be　found　easily。　　I　looked　after　them　with　dazed；



misty　eyes。　　One；　two；　three；　four。







〃Dominic；　where's　Cesar？〃　I　cried。







As　if　repulsing　the　very　sound　of　the　name；　the　Padrone　made　that



ample；　sweeping；　knocking…down　gesture。　　I　stepped　back　a　pace　and



stared　at　him　fearfully。　　His　open　shirt　uncovered　his　muscular



neck　and　the　thick　hair　on　his　chest。　　He　planted　the　oar　upright



in　the　soft　soil；　and　rolling　up　slowly　his　right　sleeve；　extended



the　bare　arm　before　my　face。







〃This；〃　he　began；　with　an　extreme　deliberation；　whose　superhuman



restraint　vibrated　with　the　suppressed　violence　of　his　feelings；



〃is　the　arm　which　delivered　the　blow。　　I　am　afraid　it　is　your　own



gold　that　did　the　rest。　　I　forgot　all　about　your　money。〃　　He



clasped　his　hands　together　in　sudden　distress。　　〃I　forgot；　I



forgot；〃　he　repeated　disconsolately。







〃Cesar　stole　the　belt？〃　I　stammered　out；　bewildered。







〃And　who　else？　　CANALLIA！　　He　must　have　been　spying　on　you　for



days。　　And　he　did　the　whole　thing。　　Absent　all　day　in　Barcelona。



TRADITORE！　　Sold　his　jacket　…　to　hire　a　horse。　　Ha！　ha！　　A　good



affair！　　I　tell　you　it　was　he　who　set　him　at　us。　。　。　。〃







Dominic　pointed　at　the　sea；　where　the　guardacosta　was　a　mere　dark



speck。　　His　chin　dropped　on　his　breast。







〃。　。　。　On　information；〃　he　murmured；　in　a　gloomy　voice。　　〃A



Cervoni！　　Oh！　my　poor　brother！　。　。　。〃







〃And　you　drowned　him；〃　I　said　feebly。







〃I　struck　once；　and　the　wretch　went　down　like　a　stone　…　with　the



gold。　　Yes。　　But　he　had　time　to　read　in　my　eyes　that　nothing　could



save　him　while　I　was　alive。　　And　had　I　not　the　right　…　I；　Dominic



Cervoni；　Padrone；　who　brought　him　aboard　your　fellucca　…　my　nephew；



a　traitor？〃







He　pulled　the　oar　out　of　the　ground　and　helped　me　carefully　down



the　slope。　　All　the　time　he　never　once　looked　me　in　the　face。　　He



punted　us　over；　then　shouldered　the　oar　again　and　waited　till　our



men　were　at　some　distance　before　he　offered　me　his　arm。　　After　we



had　gone　a　little　way；　the　fishing　hamlet　we　were　making　for　came



into　view。　　Dominic　stopped。







〃Do　you　think　you　can　make　your　way　as　far　as　the　houses　by



yourself？〃　he　asked　me　quietly。







〃Yes；　I　think　so。　　But　why？　　Where　are　you　going；　Dominic？〃







〃Anywhere。　　What　a　question！　　Signorino；　you　are　but　little　more



than　a　boy　to　ask　such　a　question　of　a　man　having　this　tale　in　his



family。　　AH！　　TRADITORE！　　What　made　me　ever　own　that　spawn　of　a



hungry　devil　for　our　own　blood！　　Thief；　cheat；　coward；　liar　…　other



men　can　deal　with　that。　　But　I　was　his　uncle；　and　so　。　。　。　I　wish



he　had　poisoned　me　…　CHAROGNE！　　But　this：　　that　I；　a　confidential



man　and　a　Corsican；　should　have　to　ask　your　pardon　for　bringing　on



board　your　vessel；　of　which　I　was　Padrone；　a　Cervoni；　who　has



betrayed　you　…　a　traitor！　…　that　is　too　much。　　It　is　too　much。



Well；　I　beg　your　pardon；　and　you　may　spit　in　Dominic's　face　because



a　traitor　of　our　blood　taints　us　all。　　A　theft　may　be　made　good



between　men；　a　lie　may　be　set　right；　a　death　avenged；　but　what　can



one　do　to　atone　for　a　treachery　like　this？　。　。　。　Nothing。〃







He　turned　and　walked　away　from　me　along　the　bank　of　the　stream；



flourishing　a　vengeful　arm　and　repeating　to　himself　slowly；　with



savage　emphasis：　　〃AH！　　CANAILLE！　　CANAILLE！　　CANAILLE！。　。　。〃　　He



left　me　there　trembling　with　weakness　and　mute　with　awe。　　Unable　to



make　a　sound；　I　gazed　after　the　strangely　desolate　figure　of　that



seaman　carrying　an　oar　on　his　shoulder　up　a　barren；　rock…strewn



ravine　under　the　dreary　leaden　sky　of　Tremolino's　last　day。　　Thus；



walking　deliberately；　with　his　back　to　the　sea；　Dominic　vanished



from　my　sight。







With　the　quality　of　our　desires；　thoughts；　and　wonder　proportioned



to　our　infinite　littleness；　we　measure　even　time　itself　by　our　own



stature。　　Imprisoned　in　the　house　of　personal　illusions；　thirty



centuries　in　mankind's　history　seem　less　to　look　back　upon　than



thirty　years　of　our　own　life。　　And　Dominic　Cervoni　takes　his　place



in　my　memory　by　the　side　of　the　legendary　wanderer　on　the　sea　of



marvels　and　terrors；　by　the　side　of　the　fatal　and　impious



adventurer；　to　whom　the　evoked　shade　of　the　soothsayer　predicted　a



journey　inland　with　an　oar　on　his　shoulder；　till　he　met　men　who　had



never　set　eyes　on　ships　and　oars。　　It　seems　to　me　I　can　see　them



side　by　side　in　the　twilight　of　an　arid　land；　the　unfortunate



possessors　of　the　secret　lore　of　the　sea；　bearing　the　emblem　of



their　hard　calling　on　their　shoulders；　surrounded　by　silent　and



curious　men：　　even　as　I；　too；　having　turned　my　back　upon　the　sea；



am　bearing　those　few　pages　in　the　twilight；　with　the　hope　of



finding　in　an　inland　valley　the　silent　welcome　of　some　patient



listener。















XLVI。















〃A　fellow　has　now　no　chance　of　promotion　unless　he　jumps　into　the



muzzle　of　a　gun　and　crawls　out　of　the　touch…hole。〃







He　who；　a　hundred　years　ago；　more　or　less；　pronounced　the　above



words　in　the　uneasiness　of　his　heart；　thirsting　for　professional



distinction；　was　a　young　naval　officer。　　Of　his　life；　career；



achievements；　and　end　nothing　is　preserved　for　the　edification　of



his　young　successors　in　the　fleet　of　to…day　…　nothing　but　this



phrase；　which；　sailor…like　in　the　simplicity　of　personal　sentiment



and　strength　of　graphic　expression；　embodies　the　spirit　of　the



epoch。　　This　obscure　but　vigorous　testimony　has　its　price；　its



significance；　and　its　lesson。　　It　comes　to　us　from　a　worthy



ancestor。　　We　do　not　know　whether　he　lived　long　enough　for　a　chance



of　that　promotion　whose　way　was　so　arduous。　　He　belongs　to　the



great　array　of　the　unknown　…　who　are　great；　indeed；　by　the　sum



total　of　the　devoted　effort　put　out；　and　the　colossal　scale　of



success　attained　by　their　insatiable　and　steadfast　ambition。　　We　do



not　know　his　name；　we　only　know　of　him　what　is　material　for　us　to



know　…