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第71节

the lost road-第71节

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when he himself; had he remained in the service; would have been
a brigadier…general the aide would command a battle…ship。  The
possible future of the young sailor filled Swanson with honorable
envy and bitter regret。  With all his soul he envied him the right
to look his fellow man in the eye; his right to die for his country;
to give his life; should it be required of him; for ninety million
people; for a flag。  Swanson saw the two officers dimly; with eyes
of bitter self…pity。  He was dying; but he was not dying gloriously
for a flag。  He had lost the right to die for it; and he was dying
because he had lost that right。

The sun had sunk and the evening had grown chill。  At the wharf
where the steamer lay on which he had arrived; but on which he
was not to depart; the electric cargo lights were already burning。
But for what Swanson had to do there still was light enough。
From his breast…pocket he took the card on which he had
written his message to his brother officers; read and reread it;
and replaced it。

Save for the admiral and his aide at the steps of the cottage;
and a bareheaded bluejacket who was reporting to them; and the
admiral's orderly; who was walking toward Swanson; no one was
in sight。  Still seated upon the stringpiece of the wharf; Swanson
so moved that his back was toward the four men。  The moment
seemed propitious; almost as though it had been prearranged。  For
with such an audience; for his taking off no other person could be
blamed。  There would be no question but that death had been
self…inflicted。

Approaching from behind him Swanson heard the brisk steps of the
orderly drawing rapidly nearer。  He wondered if the wharf were
government property; if he were trespassing; and if for that reason
the man had been sent to order him away。  He considered bitterly
that the government grudged him a place even in which to die。
Well; he would not for long be a trespasser。  His hand slipped
into his pocket; with his thumb he lowered the safety…catch of
the pistol。

But the hand with the pistol in it did not leave his pocket。  The
steps of the orderly had come to a sudden silence。  Raising his
head heavily; Swanson saw the man; with his eyes fixed upon him;
standing at salute。  They had first made his life unsupportable;
Swanson thought; now they would not let him leave it。

〃Captain Swanson; sir?〃 asked the orderly。

Swanson did not speak or move。

〃The admiral's compliments; sir;〃 snapped the orderly; 〃and will
the captain please speak with him?〃

Still Swanson did not move。


He felt that the breaking…point of his self…control had come。
This impertinent interruption; this thrusting into the last few
seconds of his life of a reminder of all that he had lost; this
futile postponement of his end; was cruel; unhuman; unthinkable。
The pistol was still in his hand。  He had but to draw it and
press it close; and before the marine could leap upon him he
would have escaped。

From behind; approaching hurriedly; came the sound of
impatient footsteps。

The orderly stiffened to attention。  〃The admiral!〃 he warned。

Twelve years of discipline; twelve years of recognition of authority;
twelve years of deference to superior officers; dragged Swanson's
hand from his pistol and lifted him to his feet。  As he turned;
Admiral Preble; the aide; and the bareheaded bluejacket were
close upon him。  The admiral's face beamed; his eyes were young
with pleasurable excitement; with the eagerness of a boy he waved
aside formal greetings。

〃My dear Swanson;〃 he cried; 〃I assure you it's a most astonishing;
most curious coincidence! See this man?〃 He flung out his arm at
the bluejacket。  〃He's my wireless chief。  He was wireless operator
on the transport that took you to Manila。  When you came in here
this afternoon he recognized you。  Half an hour later he picks up
a messagepicks it up two thousand miles from herefrom San
FranciscoAssociated Press newsit concerns you; that is; not
really concerns you; but I thought; we thought〃…as though
signalling for help; the admiral glanced unhappily at his aide…
〃we thought you'd like to know。  Of course; to us;〃 he added
hastily; 〃it's quite superfluousquite superfluous; but〃

The aide coughed apologetically。  〃You might read; sir;〃 he
suggested。

〃What? Exactly! Quite so!〃 cried the admiral。

In the fading light he held close to his eyes a piece of paper。

〃San Francisco; April 20;〃 he read。  〃Rueff; first sergeant; shot
himself here to…day; leaving written confession theft of regimental
funds for which Swanson; captain; lately court…martialled。  Money
found intact in Rueff's mattress。  Innocence of Swanson never
questioned; but dissatisfied with findings of court…martial has
left army。  Brother officers making every effort to find him and
persuade return。〃

The admiral sighed happily。  〃And my wife;〃 he added; with an
impressiveness that was intended to show he had at last arrived
at the important part of his message; 〃says you are to stay to
dinner。〃

Abruptly; rudely; Swanson swung upon his heel and turned his face
from the admiral。  His head was thrown back; his arms held rigid
at his sides。  In slow; deep breaths; like one who had been dragged
from drowning; he drank in the salt; chill air。  After one glance the
four men also turned; and in the falling darkness stood staring at
nothing; and no one spoke。

The aide was the first to break the silence。  In a polite tone; as
though he were continuing a conversation which had not been
interrupted; he addressed the admiral。  〃Of course; Rueff's written
confession was not needed;〃 he said。

〃His shooting himself proved that he was guilty。〃

Swanson started as though across his naked shoulders the aide had
drawn a whip。

In penitence and gratitude he raised his eyes to the stars。  High
above his head the strands of the wireless; swinging from the
towering masts like the strings of a giant Aeolian harp; were
swept by the wind from the ocean。  To Swanson the sighing and
whispering wires sang in praise and thanksgiving。




THE GOD OF COINCIDENCE



The God of Coincidence is fortunate in possessing innumerable
press agents。  They have made the length of his arm a proverb。  How
at exactly the right moment he extends it across continents and
drags two and two together; thus causing four to result where but
for him sixes and sevens would have obtained; they have made
known to the readers of all of our best magazines。  For instance;
Holworthy is leaving for the Congo to find a cure for the sleeping
sickness; and for himself any sickness from which one is warranted
never to wake up。  This is his condition because the beautiful
million…heiress who is wintering at the Alexander Young Hotel
in Honolulu has refused to answer his letters; cables; and appeals。

He is leaning upon the rail taking his last neck…breaking look at
the Woolworth Building。  The going…ashore bugle has sounded;
pocket…handkerchiefs are waving; and Joe Hutton; the last visitor
to leave the ship; is at the gangway。

〃Good…by; Holworthy!〃 he calls。  〃Where do you keep yourself?
Haven't seen you at the club in a year!〃

〃Haven't been there in a yearnor mean to!〃 is the ungracious
reply of our hero。

〃Then; for Heaven's sake;〃 exclaims Hutton; 〃send some one to
take your mail out of the H box! Every time I look for letters
I wade through yours。〃

〃Tear them up!〃 calls Holworthy。  〃They're bills。〃

Hutton now is half…way down the gangplank。

〃Then your creditors;〃 he shouts back; 〃must all live at the
Alexander Young Hotel in Honolulu!〃

That night an express train shrieking through the darkness
carried with it toward San Francisco

In this how evident is the fine Italian hand of the God of
Coincidence!

Had Hutton's name begun with an M; had the H in Hutton been
silent; had he not carried to the Mauretania a steamer basket for
his rich aunt; had he not resented the fact that since Holworthy's
election to the Van Sturtevant Club he had ceased to visit the
Grill Cluba cure for sleeping sickness might have been discovered;
but two loving hearts never would have been reunited and that story
would not have been written。

Or; Mrs。 Montclair; with a suit…case; is leaving her home forever
to join handsome Harry Bellairs; who is at the corner with a
racing…car and all the money of the bank of which he has been
cashier。  As the guilty woman places the farewell letter against
the pin…cushion where her husband will be sure to find it; her
infant son turns in his sleep and jabs himself with a pin。  His
howl of anguish resembles that of a puppy on a moonlight night。
The mother recognizes her master's voice。  She believes her child
dying; flies to the bedside; tears up the letter; unpacks the suit…case。
The next morning at breakfast her husband; reading the newspaper;
exclaims aloud:

〃Harry Bellairs;〃 he cries; 〃has skipped with the bank's money! I
always told you he was not a man you ought to know。〃

〃His manner to me;〃 she says severely; 〃always was that of a
perfect gentleman。〃

Again coincidence gets the credit。  Had not the child tossedhad
not at the critical moment the safety pin proved untrue to the man
who invente

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