Морський вовк

Chapter 14

           "Eighty-one;noeighty-two,eh?noeighty-three?Yes,eighty-three.Tenyearsago.FromsomelittleportinMadagascar.Iwastrading.

           "Yousee,"hewenton,asthoughaddressinghisneglectedmotheracrosshalfthegirthoftheearth,"eachyearIwasgoinghome.Sowhatwasthegoodtowrite?Itwasonlyayear.Andeachyearsomethinghappened,andIdidnotgo.ButIammate,now,andwhenIpayoffat‘Frisco,maybewithfivehundreddollars,IwillshipmyselfonawindjammerroundtheHorntoLiverpool,whichwillgivememoremoney;andthenIwillpaymypassagefromtherehome.Thenshewillnotdoanymorework."

           "Butdoesshework?now?Howoldisshe?"

           "Aboutseventy,"heanswered.Andthen,boastingly,"Weworkfromthetimewearebornuntilwedie,inmycountry.That’swhywelivesolong.Iwilllivetoahundred."

           Ishallneverforgetthisconversation.ThewordswerethelastIeverheardhimutter.Perhapstheywerethelasthedidutter,too.For,goingdownintothecabintoturnin,Idecidedthatitwastoostuffytosleepbelow.Itwasacalmnight.WewereoutoftheTrades,andtheGhostwasforgingaheadbarelyaknotanhour.SoItuckedablanketandpillowundermyarmandwentupondeck.

           AsIpassedbetweenHarrisonandthebinnacle,whichwasbuiltintothetopofthecabin,Inoticedthathewasthistimefullythreepointsoff.Thinkingthathewasasleep,andwishinghimtoescapereprimandorworse,Ispoketohim.Buthewasnotasleep.Hiseyeswerewideandstaring.

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