Морський вовк

Chapter 25

           Thiswastheworld,theuniverseitself,itsboundssonearonefeltimpelledtoreachoutbotharmsandpushthemback.Itwasimpossible,thattherestcouldbebeyondthesewallsofgrey.Therestwasadream,nomorethanthememoryofadream.

           Itwasweird,strangelyweird.IlookedatMaudBrewsterandknewthatshewassimilarlyaffected.ThenIlookedatWolfLarsen,buttherewasnothingsubjectiveabouthisstateofconsciousness.Hiswholeconcernwaswiththeimmediate,objectivepresent.Hestillheldthewheel,andIfeltthathewastimingTime,reckoningthepassageoftheminuteswitheachforwardlungeandleewardrolloftheGhost.

           "Gofor’ardandhardaleewithoutanynoise,"hesaidtomeinalowvoice."Clewupthetopsailsfirst.Setmenatallthesheets.Lettherebenorattlingofblocks,nosoundofvoices.Nonoise,understand,nonoise."

           Whenallwasready,theword"hard-a-lee"waspassedforwardtomefrommantoman;andtheGhostheeledaboutontheporttackwithpracticallynonoiseatall.Andwhatlittletherewastheslappingofafewreef-pointsandthecreakingofasheaveinablockortwowasghostlyunderthehollowechoingpallinwhichwewereswathed.

           Wehadscarcelyfilledaway,itseemed,whenthefogthinnedabruptlyandwewereagaininthesunshine,thewide-stretchingseabreakingbeforeustothesky-line.Buttheoceanwasbare.NowrathfulMacedoniabrokeitssurfacenorblackenedtheskywithhersmoke.

           WolfLarsenatoncesquaredawayandrandownalongtherimofthefog-bank.

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