FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   56   57   58   59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80  
81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   >>   >|  
hamming sick, had been malingering heartlessly in the face of our toil, of our scorn, of our patience--and now was malingering in the face of our devotion--in the face of death. Our vague and imperfect morality rose with disgust at his unmanly lie. But he stuck to it manfully--amazingly. No! It couldn't be. He was at all extremity. His cantankerous temper was only the result of the provoking invincible-ness of that death he felt by his side. Any man may be angry with such a masterful chum. But, then, what kind of men were we--with our thoughts! Indignation and doubt grappled within us in a scuffle that trampled upon the finest of our feelings. And we hated him because of the suspicion; we detested him because of the doubt. We could not scorn him safely--neither could we pity him without risk to our dignity. So we hated him and passed him carefully from hand to hand. We cried, "Got him?"--"Yes. All right. Let go." And he swung from one enemy to another, showing about as much life as an old bolster would do. His eyes made two narrow white slits in the black face. The air escaped through his lips with a noise like the sound of bellows. We reached the poop ladder at last, and it being a comparatively safe place, we lay for a moment in an exhausted heap to rest a little. He began to mutter. We were always incurably anxious to hear what he had to say. This time he mumbled peevishly, "It took you some time to come! I began to think the whole smart lot of you had been washed overboard. What kept you back? Hey? Funk?" We said nothing. With sighs we started again to drag him up. The secret and ardent desire of our hearts was the desire to beat him viciously with our fists about the head; and we handled him as tenderly as though he had been made of glass.... The return on the poop was like the return of wanderers after many years amongst people marked by the desolation of time. Eyes were turned slowly in their sockets, glancing at us. Faint murmurs were heard, "Have you got 'im after all?" The well-known faces looked strange and familiar; they seemed faded and grimy; they had a mingled expression of fatigue and eagerness. They seemed to have become much thinner during our absence, as if all these men had been starving for a long time in their abandoned attitudes. The captain, with a round turn of a rope on his wrist, and kneeling on one knee, swung with a face cold and stiff; but with living eyes he was still holding the ship u
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   56   57   58   59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80  
81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

return

 

malingering

 

desire

 
wanderers
 
tenderly
 

handled

 
viciously
 

hearts

 

washed

 

mumbled


peevishly
 

overboard

 

started

 

secret

 

ardent

 
starving
 

abandoned

 

captain

 

attitudes

 
absence

thinner

 
living
 

holding

 

kneeling

 

eagerness

 

fatigue

 

sockets

 
slowly
 

glancing

 

murmurs


turned

 

people

 

marked

 

desolation

 

familiar

 

mingled

 

expression

 

strange

 

looked

 

reached


masterful

 

thoughts

 

heartlessly

 

Indignation

 

grappled

 

detested

 
suspicion
 

safely

 

feelings

 

finest