Короли и капуста
Smith
WaittillIcomeback.Iwanttohearitasitrunsoffthereel—isthatright?"
ThemountainsreacheduptheirbulkyshoulderstoreceivethelevelgallopofApollo’shomingsteeds,thedaydiedinthelagoonsandintheshadowedbananagrovesandinthemangroveswamps,wherethegreatbluecrabswerebeginningtocrawltolandfortheirnightlyramble.Anditdied,atlast,uponthehighestpeaks.Thenthebrieftwilight,ephemeralastheflightofamoth,cameandwent;theSouthernCrosspeepedwithitstopmosteyeabovearowofpalms,andthefire-fliesheraldedwiththeirtorchestheapproachofsoft-footednight.
IntheoffingtheKarlsefinswayedatanchor,herlightsseemingtopenetratethewatertocountlessfathomswiththeirshimmering,lanceolatereflections.TheCaribswerebusyloadingherbymeansofthegreatlightersheapedfullfromthepilesoffruitrangedupontheshore.
Onthesandybeach,withhisbackagainstacocoanut-treeandthestubsofmanycigarslyingaroundhim,Smithsatwaiting,neverrelaxinghissharpgazeinthedirectionofthesteamer.
Theincongruousyachtsmanhadconcentratedhisinterestupontheinnocentfruiter.TwicehadhebeenassuredthatnopassengershadcometoCoralioonboardofher.Andyet,withapersistencenottobeattributedtoanidlingvoyager,hehadappealedthecasetothehighercourtofhisowneyesight.Surprisinglylikesomegay-coatedlizard,hecrouchedatthefootofthecocoanutpalm,andwiththebeady,shiftingeyesoftheselfsamereptile,sustainedhisespionageontheKarlsefin.
