a personal record-第31部分

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remark　to　him　now　and　again；　but　nobody　really　took　any　notice　of



what　he　had　to　say。　　He　had　survived　his　strength；　his



usefulness；　his　very　wisdom。　　He　wore　long；　green；　worsted



stockings　pulled　up　above　the　knee　over　his　trousers；　a　sort　of



woollen　nightcap　on　his　hairless　cranium；　and　wooden　clogs　on　his



feet。　　Without　his　hooded　cloak　he　looked　like　a　peasant。　　Half　a



dozen　hands　would　be　extended　to　help　him　on　board；　but　afterward



he　was　left　pretty　much　to　his　own　thoughts。　　Of　course　he　never



did　any　work；　except；　perhaps；　to　cast　off　some　rope　when　hailed；



〃He；　l'Ancien！　let　go　the　halyards　there；　at　your　hand〃or　some



such　request　of　an　easy　kind。







No　one　took　notice　in　any　way　of　the　chuckling　within　the　shadow



of　the　hood。　　He　kept　it　up　for　a　long　time　with　intense



enjoyment。　　Obviously　he　had　preserved　intact　the　innocence　of



mind　which　is　easily　amused。　　But　when　his　hilarity　had　exhausted



itself；　he　made　a　professional　remark　in　a　self…assertive　but



quavering　voice：







〃Can't　expect　much　work　on　a　night　like　this。〃







No　one　took　it　up。　　It　was　a　mere　truism。　　Nothing　under　canvas



could　be　expected　to　make　a　port　on　such　an　idle　night　of　dreamy



splendour　and　spiritual　stillness。　　We　would　have　to　glide　idly



to　and　fro；　keeping　our　station　within　the　appointed　bearings；



and；　unless　a　fresh　breeze　sprang　up　with　the　dawn；　we　would　land



before　sunrise　on　a　small　islet　that；　within　two　miles　of　us；



shone　like　a　lump　of　frozen　moonlight；　to　〃break　a　crust　and　take



a　pull　at　the　wine　bottle。〃　　I　was　familiar　with　the　procedure。　



The　stout　boat　emptied　of　her　crowd　would　nestle　her　buoyant；



capable　side　against　the　very　rocksuch　is　the　perfectly　smooth



amenity　of　the　classic　sea　when　in　a　gentle　mood。　　The　crust



broken　and　the　mouthful　of　wine　swallowedit　was　literally　no



more　than　that　with　this　abstemious　racethe　pilots　would　pass



the　time　stamping　their　feet　on　the　slabs　of　sea…salted　stone　and



blowing　into　their　nipped　fingers。　　One　or　two　misanthropists



would　sit　apart；　perched　on　boulders　like　manlike　sea…fowl　of



solitary　habits；　the　sociably　disposed　would　gossip　scandalously



in　little　gesticulating　knots；　and　there　would　be　perpetually　one



or　another　of　my　hosts　taking　aim　at　the　empty　horizon　with　the



long；　brass　tube　of　the　telescope；　a　heavy；　murderous…looking



piece　of　collective　property；　everlastingly　changing　hands　with



brandishing　and　levelling　movements。　　Then　about　noon　（it　was　a



short　turn　of　dutythe　long　turn　lasted　twenty…four　hours）



another　boatful　of　pilots　would　relieve　usand　we　should　steer



for　the　old　Phoenician　port；　dominated；　watched　over　from　the



ridge　of　a　dust…gray；　arid　hill　by　the　red…and…white　striped　pile



of　the　Notre　Dame　de　la　Garde。







All　this　came　to　pass　as　I　had　foreseen　in　the　fullness　of　my



very　recent　experience。　　But　also　something　not　foreseen　by　me



did　happen；　something　which　causes　me　to　remember　my　last　outing



with　the　pilots。　　It　was　on　this　occasion　that　my　hand　touched；



for　the　first　time；　the　side　of　an　English　ship。







No　fresh　breeze　had　come　with　the　dawn；　only　the　steady　little



draught　got　a　more　keen　edge　on　it　as　the　eastern　sky　became



bright　and　glassy　with　a　clean；　colourless　light。　I　t　was　while



we　were　all　ashore　on　the　islet　that　a　steamer　was　picked　up　by



the　telescope；　a　black　speck　like　an　insect　posed　on　the　hard



edge　of　the　offing。　　She　emerged　rapidly　to　her　water…line　and



came　on　steadily；　a　slim　hull　with　a　long　streak　of　smoke



slanting　away　from　the　rising　sun。　　We　embarked　in　a　hurry；　and



headed　the　boat　out　for　our　prey；　but　we　hardly　moved　three　miles



an　hour。







She　was　a　big；　high…class　cargo…steamer　of　a　type　that　is　to　be



met　on　the　sea　no　moreblack　hull；　with　low；　white



superstructures；　powerfully　rigged　with　three　masts　and　a　lot　of



yards　on　the　fore；　two　hands　at　her　enormous　wheelsteam



steering…gear　was　not　a　matter　of　course　in　these　daysand　with



them　on　the　bridge　three　others；　bulky　in　thick　blue　jackets；



ruddy…faced；　muffled　up；　with　peak　capsI　suppose　all　her



officers。　　There　are　ships　I　have　met　more　than　once　and　known



well　by　sight　whose　names　I　have　forgotten；　but　the　name　of　that



ship　seen　once　so　many　years　ago　in　the　clear　flush　of　a　cold；



pale　sunrise　I　have　not　forgotten。　　How　could　Ithe　first



English　ship　on　whose　side　I　ever　laid　my　hand！　　The　nameI　read



it　letter　by　letter　on　the　bowwas　James　Westoll。　　Not　very



romantic；　you　will　say。　　The　name　of　a　very　considerable；



well…known；　and　universally　respected　North　country　ship…owner；　I



believe。　　James　Westoll！　　What　better　name　could　an　honourable



hard…working　ship　have？　　To　me　the　very　grouping　of　the　letters



is　alive　with　the　romantic　feeling　of　her　reality　as　I　saw　her



floating　motionless　and　borrowing　an　ideal　grace　from　the　austere



purity　of　the　light。







We　were　then　very　near　her　and；　on　a　sudden　impulse；　I



volunteered　to　pull　bow　in　the　dinghy　which　shoved　off　at　once　to



put　the　pilot　on　board　while　our　boat；　fanned　by　the　faint　air



which　had　attended　us　all　through　the　night；　went　on　gliding



gently　past　the　black；　glistening　length　of　the　ship。　　A　few



strokes　brought　us　alongside；　and　it　was　then　that；　for　the　very



first　time　in　my　life；　I　heard　myself　addressed　in　Englishthe



speech　of　my　secret　choice；　of　my　future；　of　long　friendships；　of



the　deepest　affections；　of　hours　of　toil　and　hours　of　ease；　and



of　solitary　hours；　too；　of　books　read；　of　thoughts　pursued；　of



remembered　emotionsof　my　very　dreams！　　And　if　（after　being　thus



fashioned　by　it　in　that　part　of　me　which　cannot　decay）　I　dare　not



claim　it　aloud　as　my　own；　then；　at　any　rate；　the　speech　of　my



children。　　Thus　small　events　grow　memorable　by　the　passage　of



time。　　As　to　the　quality　of　the　address　itself　I　cannot　say　it



was　very　striking。　　Too　short　for　eloquence　and　devoid　of　all



charm　of　tone；　it　consisted　precisely　of　the　three　words　〃Look



out　there！〃　growled　out　huskily　above　my　head。







It　proceeded　from　a　big　fat　fellow　（he　had　an　obtrusive；　hairy



double　chin）　in　a　blue　woollen　shirt　and　roomy　breeches　pulled　up



very　high；　even　to　the　level　of　his　breastbone；　by　a　pair　of



braces　quite　exposed　to　public　view。　　As　where　he　stood　there　was



no　bulwark；　but　only　a　rail　and　stanchions；　I　was　able　to　take　in



at　a　glance　the　whole　of　his　voluminous　person　from　his　feet　to



the　high　crown　of　his　soft　black　hat；　which　sat　like　an　absurd



flanged　cone　on　his　big　head。　　The　grotesque　and　massive　aspect



of　that　deck　hand　（I　suppose　he　was　thatvery　likely　the



lamp…trimmer）　surprised　me　very　much。　　My　course　of　reading；　of



dreaming；　and　longing　for　the　sea　had　not　prepared　me　for　a　sea



brother　of　that　sort。　　I　never　met　again　a　figure　in　the　least



like　his　except　in　the　illustrations　to　Mr。　W。　W。　Jacobs's　most



entertaining　tales　of　barges　and　coasters；　but　the　inspired



talent　of　Mr。　Jacobs　for　poking　endless　fun　at　poor；　innocent



sailors　in　a　prose　which；　however　extravagant　in　its　felicitous



invention；　is　always　artistically　adjusted　to　observed　truth；　was



not　yet。　　Perhaps　Mr。　Jacobs　himself　was　not　yet。　　I　fancy　that；



at　most；　if　he　had　made　his　nurse　laugh　it　was　about　all　he　had



achieved　at　that　early　date。







Therefore；　I　repeat；　other　disabilities　apart；　I　could　not　have



been　prepared　for　the　sight　of　that　husky　old　porpoise。　　The



object　of　his　concise　address　was　to　call　my　attention　to　a　rope



which　he　incontinently　flung　down　for　me　to　catch。　　I　caught　it；



though　it　was　not　really　necessary；　the　ship　having　no　way　on　her



by　that　time。　　Then　everything　went　on　very　swiftly。　　The　dinghy



came　with　a　slight　bump　against　the　steamer's　side；　the　pilot；



grabbing　for　the　rope　ladder；　had　scrambled　half…way　up　before　I



knew　that　our　task　of　boarding　was　done；　the　harsh；　muffled



clanging　of　the　engine…room　telegraph　struck　my　ear　through　the



iron　plate；　my　companion　in　the　dinghy　was　urging　me　to　〃shove



offpush　hard〃；　and　when　I　bore　against　the　smooth　flank　of　the



first　English　ship　I　ever　touched　in　my　life；　I　felt　it　already



throbbing　under　my　open　palm。







Her　head　swung　a　little　to　the　west；　pointing　toward　the



miniature　lighthouse　of　the　Jolliette　breakwater；　far　away　there；



hardly　distinguishable　against　the　land。　　The　dinghy　danced　a



squashy；　splashy　jig　in　the　wash　of　the　wake；　and；　turning　in　my



seat；　I　followed　the　James　Westoll