Межзвёздный скиталец
Chapter 15
Acrossthenarrowstraits,justfartherthantheeyecansee,wastheonehopeofescapeJapan,wheredoubtlessoccasionalshipsofEuropecame.StronguponmeisthevisionofthosesevenageingmenonthecliffsofFusanyearningwithalltheirsoulsacrosstheseatheywouldneversailagain.
AttimesjunksofJapanweresighted,butneverliftedafamiliartopsailofoldEuropeabovethesea-rim.Yearscameandwent,andthesevencuniesandmyselfandtheLadyOm,passingthroughmiddlelifeintooldage,moreandmoredirectedourfootstepstoFusan.Andastheyearscameandwent,nowone,nowanotherfailedtogatherattheusualplace.HansAmdenwasthefirsttodie.JacobBrinker,whowashisroad-mate,broughtthenews.JacobBrinkerwasthelastoftheseven,andhewasnearlyninetywhenhedied,outlivingTrompascanttwoyears.Iwellrememberthepairofthem,towardthelast,wornandfeeble,inbeggars’rags,withbeggars’bowls,sunningthemselvessidebysideonthecliffs,tellingoldstoriesandcacklingshrill-voicedlikechildren.AndTrompwouldmaunderoverandoverofhowJohannesMaartensandthecuniesrobbedthekingsonTabongMountain,eachembalmedinhisgoldencoffinwithanembalmedmaidoneitherside;andofhowtheseancientproudonescrumbledtodustwithinthehourwhilethecuniescursedandsweatedatjunkingthecoffins.
