Морський вовк

Chapter 7

           Inthemorning,ThomasMugridgebeingdulybribed,thegalleyispleasantlyareekwiththeodouroftheirfrying;whiledolphinmeatisservedforeandaftonsuchoccasionsasJohnsoncatchestheblazingbeautiesfromthebowspritend.

           Johnsonseemstospendallhissparetimethereoraloftatthecrosstrees,watchingtheGhostcleavingthewaterunderpressofsail.Thereispassion,adoration,inhiseyes,andhegoesaboutinasortoftrance,gazinginecstasyattheswellingsails,thefoamingwake,andtheheaveandtherunofherovertheliquidmountainsthataremovingwithusinstatelyprocession.

           Thedaysandnightsare"allawonderandawilddelight,"andthoughIhavelittletimefrommydrearywork,IstealoddmomentstogazeandgazeattheunendinggloryofwhatIneverdreamedtheworldpossessed.Above,theskyisstainlessblueblueastheseaitself,whichundertheforefootisofthecolourandsheenofazuresatin.Allaroundthehorizonarepale,fleecyclouds,neverchanging,nevermoving,likeasilversettingfortheflawlessturquoisesky.

           Idonotforgetonenight,whenIshouldhavebeenasleep,oflyingontheforecastle-headandgazingdownatthespectralrippleoffoamthrustasidebytheGhost’sforefoot.Itsoundedlikethegurglingofabrookovermossystonesinsomequietdell,andthecrooningsongofitluredmeawayandoutofmyselftillIwasnolongerHumpthecabin-boy,norVanWeyden,themanwhohaddreamedawaythirty-fiveyearsamongbooks.

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