Кінець рабства

           Hewouldclenchhishandashewalkedandhittherailasuddenblow,viciously,asthoughshecouldbemadetofeelpain.Andyethecouldnotdowithouter;heneededher;hemusthangontohertoothandnailtokeephisheadabovewatertilltheexpectedfloodoffortunecamesweepingupandlandedhimsafelyonthehighshoreofhisambition.

           Itwasnowtodonothing,nothingwhatever,andhaveplentyofmoneytodoiton.Hehadtastedofpower,thehighestformofithislimitedexperiencewasawareof—thepowerofshipowning.Whatadeception!Vanityofvanities!Hewonderedathisfolly.Hehadthrownawaythesubstancefortheshadow.Ofthegratificationofwealthhedidnotknowenoughtoexcitehisimaginationwithanyvisionsofluxury.Howcouldhe—thechildofadrunkenboiler-maker—goingstraightfromtheworkshopintotheengine-roomofanorth-countrycollier!Butthenotionoftheabsoluteidlenessofwealthhecouldverywellconceive.Hereveledinit,toforgethispresenttroubles;heimaginedhimselfwalkingaboutthestreetsofHull(heknewtheirgutterswellasaboy)withhispocketsfullofsovereigns.Hewouldbuyhimselfahouse;hismarriedsisters,theirhusbands,hisoldworkshopchums,wouldrenderhiminfinitehomage.Therewouldbenothingtothinkof.Hiswordwouldbelaw.Hehadbeenoutofworkforalongtimebeforehewonhisprize,andherememberedhowCarloMariani(commonlyknownasPaunchyCharley),theMaltesehotel-keeperattheslummyendofDenhamStreet,hadcringedjoyfullybeforehimintheevening,whenthenewshadcome.