within the tides-第17节
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Miss Moorsom a little in advance of her aunt。
When she came abreast of him Renouard raised his head。
〃Good…bye； Mr。 Renouard；〃 she said in a low voice； meaning to pass
on； but there was such a look of entreaty in the blue gleam of his
sunken eyes that after an imperceptible hesitation she laid her
hand； which was ungloved； in his extended palm。
〃Will you condescend to remember me？〃 he asked； while an emotion
with which she was angry made her pale cheeks flush and her black
eyes sparkle。
〃This is a strange request for you to make；〃 she said exaggerating
the coldness of her tone。
〃Is it？ Impudent perhaps。 Yet I am not so guilty as you think；
and bear in mind that to me you can never make reparation。〃
〃Reparation？ To you！ It is you who can offer me no reparation for
the offence against my feelings … and my person； for what
reparation can be adequate for your odious and ridiculous plot so
scornful in its implication； so humiliating to my pride。 No！ I
don't want to remember you。〃
Unexpectedly； with a tightening grip； he pulled her nearer to him；
and looking into her eyes with fearless despair …
〃You'll have to。 I shall haunt you；〃 he said firmly。
Her hand was wrenched out of his grasp before he had time to
release it。 Felicia Moorsom stepped into the boat； sat down by the
side of her father； and breathed tenderly on her crushed fingers。
The professor gave her a sidelong look … nothing more。 But the
professor's sister； yet on shore； had put up her long…handle double
eye…glass to look at the scene。 She dropped it with a faint
rattle。
〃I've never in my life heard anything so crude said to a lady；〃 she
murmured； passing before Renouard with a perfectly erect head。
When； a moment afterwards； softening suddenly； she turned to throw
a good…bye to that young man； she saw only his back in the distance
moving towards the bungalow。 She watched him go in … amazed …
before she too left the soil of Malata。
Nobody disturbed Renouard in that room where he had shut himself in
to breathe the evanescent perfume of her who for him was no more；
till late in the afternoon when the half…caste was heard on the
other side of the door。
He wanted the master to know that the trader Janet was just
entering the cove。
Renouard's strong voice on his side of the door gave him most
unexpected instructions。 He was to pay off the boys with the cash
in the office and arrange with the captain of the Janet to take
every worker away from Malata； returning them to their respective
homes。 An order on the Dunster firm would be given to him in
payment。
And again the silence of the bungalow remained unbroken till； next
morning； the half…caste came to report that everything was done。
The plantation boys were embarking now。
Through a crack in the door a hand thrust at him a piece of paper；
and the door slammed to so sharply that Luiz stepped back。 Then
approaching cringingly the keyhole； in a propitiatory tone he
asked：
〃Do I go too； master？〃
〃Yes。 You too。 Everybody。〃
〃Master stop here alone？〃
Silence。 And the half…caste's eyes grew wide with wonder。 But he
also； like those 〃ignorant savages；〃 the plantation boys； was only
too glad to leave an island haunted by the ghost of a white man。
He backed away noiselessly from the mysterious silence in the
closed room； and only in the very doorway of the bungalow allowed
himself to give vent to his feelings by a deprecatory and pained …
〃Tse！ Tse！ Tse！〃
CHAPTER XII
The Moorsoms did manage to catch the homeward mail boat all right；
but had only twenty…four hours in town。 Thus the sentimental
Willie could not see very much of them。 This did not prevent him
afterwards from relating at great length； with manly tears in his
eyes； how poor Miss Moorsom … the fashionable and clever beauty …
found her betrothed in Malata only to see him die in her arms。
Most people were deeply touched by the sad story。 It was the talk
of a good many days。
But the all…knowing Editor； Renouard's only friend and crony；
wanted to know more than the rest of the world。 From professional
incontinence； perhaps； he thirsted for a full cup of harrowing
detail。 And when he noticed Renouard's schooner lying in port day
after day he sought the sailing master to learn the reason。 The
man told him that such were his instructions。 He had been ordered
to lie there a month before returning to Malata。 And the month was
nearly up。 〃I will ask you to give me a passage；〃 said the Editor。
He landed in the morning at the bottom of the garden and found
peace； stillness； sunshine reigning everywhere； the doors and
windows of the bungalow standing wide open； no sight of a human
being anywhere； the plants growing rank and tall on the deserted
fields。 For hours the Editor and the schooner's crew； excited by
the mystery； roamed over the island shouting Renouard's name； and
at last set themselves in grim silence to explore systematically
the uncleared bush and the deeper ravines in search of his corpse。
What had happened？ Had he been murdered by the boys？ Or had he
simply； capricious and secretive； abandoned his plantation taking
the people with him。 It was impossible to tell what had happened。
At last； towards the decline of the day； the Editor and the sailing
master discovered a track of sandals crossing a strip of sandy
beach on the north shore of the bay。 Following this track
fearfully； they passed round the spur of the headland； and there on
a large stone found the sandals； Renouard's white jacket； and the
Malay sarong of chequered pattern which the planter of Malata was
well known to wear when going to bathe。 These things made a little
heap； and the sailor remarked； after gazing at it in silence …
〃Birds have been hovering over this for many a day。〃
〃He's gone bathing and got drowned；〃 cried the Editor in dismay。
〃I doubt it； sir。 If he had been drowned anywhere within a mile
from the shore the body would have been washed out on the reefs。
And our boats have found nothing so far。〃
Nothing was ever found … and Renouard's disappearance remained in
the main inexplicable。 For to whom could it have occurred that a
man would set out calmly to swim beyond the confines of life … with
a steady stroke … his eyes fixed on a star！
Next evening； from the receding schooner； the Editor looked back
for the last time at the deserted island。 A black cloud hung
listlessly over the high rock on the middle hill； and under the
mysterious silence of that shadow Malata lay mournful； with an air
of anguish in the wild sunset； as if remembering the heart that was
broken there。
Dec。 1913。
THE PARTNER
〃And that be hanged for a silly yarn。 The boatmen here in Westport
have been telling this lie to the summer visitors for years。 The
sort that gets taken out for a row at a shilling a head … and asks
foolish questions … must be told something to pass the time away。
D'ye know anything more silly than being pulled in a boat along a
beach？ 。 。 。 It's like drinking weak lemonade when you aren't
thirsty。 I don't know why they do it！ They don't even get sick。〃
A forgotten glass of beer stood at his elbow； the locality was a
small respectable smoking…room of a small respectable hotel； and a
taste for forming chance acquaintances accounts for my sitting up
late with him。 His great； flat； furrowed cheeks were shaven； a
thick； square wisp of white hairs hung from his chin； its waggling
gave additional point to his deep utterance； and his general
contempt for mankind with its activities and moralities was
expressed in the rakish set of his big soft hat of black felt with
a large rim； which he kept always on his head。
His appearance was that of an old adventurer； retired after many
unholy experiences in the darkest parts of the earth； but I had
every reason to believe that he had never been outside England。
From a casual remark somebody dropped I gathered that in his early
days he must have been somehow connected with shipping … with ships
in docks。 Of individuality he had plenty。 And it was this which
attracted my attention at first。 But he was not easy to classify；
and before the end of the week I gave him up with the vague
definition； 〃an imposing old ruffian。〃
One rainy afternoon； oppressed by infinite boredom； I went into the
smoking…room。 He was sitting there in absolute immobility； which
was really fakir…l
