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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 man…like 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…grey 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。  It 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 more; black hull; with low; white super…



structures; 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 peaked 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 shipowner; 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 breast…bone; 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 space 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' 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 the rope ladder; had scrambled halfway 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 off



push 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 towards 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〃 with my eyes。  Before she had



gone in a quarter of a mile she hoisted her flag as the harbour



regulations prescribe for arriving and departing ships。  I saw it



suddenly flicker and stream out on the flagstaff。  The Red



Ensign!  In the pellucid; colourless atmosphere bathing the drab



and grey masses of that southern land; the livid islets; the sea



of pale glassy blue under the pale glassy sky of that cold



sunrise; it was as far as the eye could reach the only sp

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