end of the tether-第24节
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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
