Кінець рабства
XIII
Helethishandfallheavilyonthetable.Mr.VanWyk,armsdown,chinonbreast,withagleamofwhiteteethpressingonthelowerlip,meditatedonSterne’s“Thegame’sup.”
“TheSerangofcoursedoesnotknow.”
“Nobody,”saidCaptainWhalley,withassurance.
“Ahyes.Nobody.Verywell.Canyoukeepituptotheendofthetrip?ThatisthelastundertheagreementwithMassy.”
CaptainWhalleygotupandstooderect,verystately,withthegreatwhitebeardlyinglikeasilverbreastplateovertheawfulsecretofhisheart.Yes;thatwastheonlyhopetherewasforhimofeverseeingheragain,ofsecuringthemoney,thelasthecoulddoforher,beforehecreptawaysomewhere—useless,aburden,areproachtohimself.Hisvoicefaltered.
“Thinkofit!Neverseeheranymore:theonlyhumanbeingbesidesmyselfnowonearththatcanremembermywife.She’sjustlikehermother.Luckythepoorwomaniswheretherearenotearsshedoverthosetheylovedonearthandthatremaintopraynottobeledintotemptation—because,Isuppose,theblessedknowthesecretofgraceinGod’sdealingswithHiscreatedchildren.”
Heswayedalittle,saidwithausteredignity—
“Idon’t.IknowonlythechildHehasgivenme.”
Andhebegantowalk.Mr.VanWyk,jumpingup,sawthefullmeaningoftherigidhead,thehesitatingfeet,thevaguelyextendedhand.Hisheartwasbeatingfast;hemovedachairaside,andinstinctivelyadvancedasiftoofferhisarm.ButCaptainWhalleypassedhimby,makingforthestairsquitestraight.
