Конец рабства

XIII

           

           Helethishandfallheavilyonthetable.Mr.VanWyk,armsdown,chinonbreast,withagleamofwhiteteethpressingonthelowerlip,meditatedonSterne’s“Thegame’sup.”

           “TheSerangofcoursedoesnotknow.”

           “Nobody,”saidCaptainWhalley,withassurance.

           “Ahyes.Nobody.Verywell.Canyoukeepituptotheendofthetrip?ThatisthelastundertheagreementwithMassy.”

           CaptainWhalleygotupandstooderect,verystately,withthegreatwhitebeardlyinglikeasilverbreastplateovertheawfulsecretofhisheart.Yes;thatwastheonlyhopetherewasforhimofeverseeingheragain,ofsecuringthemoney,thelasthecoulddoforher,beforehecreptawaysomewhere—useless,aburden,areproachtohimself.Hisvoicefaltered.

           “Thinkofit!Neverseeheranymore:theonlyhumanbeingbesidesmyselfnowonearththatcanremembermywife.She’sjustlikehermother.Luckythepoorwomaniswheretherearenotearsshedoverthosetheylovedonearthandthatremaintopraynottobeledintotemptation—because,Isuppose,theblessedknowthesecretofgraceinGod’sdealingswithHiscreatedchildren.”

           Heswayedalittle,saidwithausteredignity—

           “Idon’t.IknowonlythechildHehasgivenme.”

           Andhebegantowalk.Mr.VanWyk,jumpingup,sawthefullmeaningoftherigidhead,thehesitatingfeet,thevaguelyextendedhand.Hisheartwasbeatingfast;hemovedachairaside,andinstinctivelyadvancedasiftoofferhisarm.ButCaptainWhalleypassedhimby,makingforthestairsquitestraight.

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