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gers going away; subsided slowly。  On the shore; a



voice; cultivated; slightly authoritative; spoke very



close alongside







〃Brought any mail for me this time?〃







〃Yes; Mr。 Van Wyk。〃  This was from Sterne; an…



swering over the rail in a tone of respectful cordiality。



〃Shall I bring it up to you?〃







But the voice asked again







〃Where's the captain?〃







〃Still on the bridge; I believe。  He hasn't left his



chair。  Shall I 。 。 。〃







The voice interrupted negligently。







〃I will come on board。〃







〃Mr。 Van Wyk;〃 Sterne suddenly broke out with an



eager effort; 〃will you do me the favor 。 。 。〃







The mate walked away quickly towards the gangway。



A silence fell。  Mr。 Massy in the dark did not move。







He did not move even when he heard slow shuffling



footsteps pass his cabin lazily。  He contented himself



to bellow out through the closed door







〃YouJack!〃







The footsteps came back without haste; the door



handle rattled; and the second engineer appeared in the



opening; shadowy in the sheen of the skylight at his



back; with his face apparently as black as the rest of



his figure。







〃We have been very long coming up this time;〃 Mr。



Massy growled; without changing his attitude。







〃What do you expect with half the boiler tubes



plugged up for leaks。〃  The second defended himself



loquaciously。







〃None of your lip;〃 said Massy。







〃None of your rotten boilersI say;〃 retorted his



faithful subordinate without animation; huskily。  〃Go



down there and carry a head of steam on them yourself



if you dare。  I don't。〃







〃You aren't worth your salt then;〃 Massy said。  The



other made a faint noise which resembled a laugh but



might have been a snarl。







〃Better go slow than stop the ship altogether;〃 he



admonished his admired superior。  Mr。 Massy moved



at last。  He turned in his chair; and grinding his



teeth







〃Dam' you and the ship!  I wish she were at the



bottom of the sea。  Then you would have to starve。〃







The trusty second engineer closed the door gently。







Massy listened。  Instead of passing on to the bath…



room where he should have gone to clean himself; the



second entered his cabin; which was next door。  Mr。



Massy jumped up and waited。  Suddenly he heard the



lock snap in there。  He rushed out and gave a violent



kick to the door。







〃I believe you are locking yourself up to get drunk;〃



he shouted。







A muffled answer came after a while。







〃My own time。〃







〃If you take to boozing on the trip I'll fire you out;〃



Massy cried。







An obstinate silence followed that threat。  Massy



moved away perplexed。  On the bank two figures ap…



peared; approaching the gangway。  He heard a voice



tinged with contempt







〃I would rather doubt your word。  But I shall cer…



tainly speak to him of this。〃







The other voice; Sterne's; said with a sort of regretful



formality







〃Thanks。  That's all I want。  I must do my duty。〃







Mr。 Massy was surprised。  A short; dapper figure



leaped lightly on the deck and nearly bounded into him



where he stood beyond the circle of light from the gang…



way lamp。  When it had passed towards the bridge;



after exchanging a hurried 〃Good evening;〃 Massy



said surlily to Sterne who followed with slow steps







〃What is it you're making up to Mr。 Van Wyk for;



now?〃







〃Far from it; Mr。 Massy。  I am not good enough for



Mr。 Van Wyk。  Neither are you; sir; in his opinion; I



am afraid。  Captain Whalley is; it seems。  He's gone



to ask him to dine up at the house this evening。〃







Then he murmured to himself darkly







〃I hope he will like it。〃











XII







Mr。 Van Wyk; the white man of Batu Beru; an ex…



naval officer who; for reasons best known to himself; had



thrown away the promise of a brilliant career to become



the pioneer of tobacco…planting on that remote part of



the coast; had learned to like Captain Whalley。  The



appearance of the new skipper had attracted his atten…



tion。  Nothing more unlike all the diverse types he had



seen succeeding each other on the bridge of the Sofala



could be imagined。







At that time Batu Beru was not what it has become



since: the center of a prosperous tobacco…growing dis…



trict; a tropically suburban…looking little settlement of



bungalows in one long street shaded with two rows of



trees; embowered by the flowering and trim luxuriance



of the gardens; with a three…mile…long carriage…road for



the afternoon drives and a first…class Resident with a



fat; cheery wife to lead the society of married estate…



managers and unmarried young fellows in the service



of the big companies。







All this prosperity was not yet; and Mr。 Van Wyk



prospered alone on the left bank on his deep clearing



carved out of the forest; which came down above and



below to the water's edge。  His lonely bungalow faced



across the river the houses of the Sultan: a restless and



melancholy old ruler who had done with love and war;



for whom life no longer held any savor (except of evil



forebodings) and time never had any value。  He was



afraid of death; and hoped he would die before the white



men were ready to take his country from him。  He



crossed the river frequently (with never less than ten



boats crammed full of people); in the wistful hope of



extracting some information on the subject from his



own white man。  There was a certain chair on the



veranda he always took: the dignitaries of the court



squatted on the rugs and skins between the furniture:



the inferior people remained below on the grass plot



between the house and the river in rows three or four



deep all along the front。  Not seldom the visit began at



daybreak。  Mr。 Van Wyk tolerated these inroads。  He



would nod out of his bedroom window; tooth…brush or



razor in hand; or pass through the throng of courtiers in



his bathing robe。  He appeared and disappeared hum…



ming a tune; polished his nails with attention; rubbed



his shaved face with eau…de…Cologne; drank his early



tea; went out to see his coolies at work: returned; looked



through some papers on his desk; read a page or two



in a book or sat before his cottage piano leaning back



on the stool; his arms extended; fingers on the keys; his



body swaying slightly from side to side。  When abso…



lutely forced to speak he gave evasive vaguely soothing



answers out of pure compassion: the same feeling per…



haps made him so lavishly hospitable with the aerated



drinks that more than once he left himself without soda…



water for a whole week。  That old man had granted him



as much land as he cared to have cleared: it was neither



more nor less than a fortune。







Whether it was fortune or seclusion from his kind that



Mr。 Van Wyk sought; he could not have pitched upon



a better place。  Even the mail…boats of the subsidized



company calling on the veriest clusters of palm…thatched



hovels along the coast steamed past the mouth of Batu



Beru river far away in the offing。  The contract was



old: perhaps in a few years' time; when it had expired;



Batu Beru would be included in the service; meantime



all Mr。 Van Wyk's mail was addressed to Malacca;



whence his agent sent it across once a month by the



Sofala。  It followed that whenever Massy had run short



of money (through taking too many lottery tickets);



or got into a difficulty about a skipper; Mr。 Van Wyk



was deprived of his letter and newspapers。  In so far



he had a personal interest in the fortunes of the Sofala。



Though he considered himself a hermit (and for no



passing whim evidently; since he had stood eight years



of it already); he liked to know what went on in the



world。







Handy on the veranda upon a walnut etagere (it had



come last year by the Sofalaeverything came by the



Sofala) there lay; piled up under bronze weights; a pile



of the Times' weekly edition; the large sheets of the



Rotterdam Courant; the Graphic in its world…wide



green wrappers; an illustrated Dutch publication with…



out a cover; the numbers of a German magazine with



covers of the 〃Bismarck malade〃 color。  There were



also parcels of new musicthough the piano (it had



come years ago by the Sofala in the damp atm

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