Кінець рабства

           Hisservants,beginningtoclearthetable,heardhimmuttertohimself(evilwordsnodoubt)downthere,andthenafterapausegoawaywithastrollinggaitinthedirectionofthewharf.

           ThebulwarksoftheSofalalyingalongsidethebankmadealow,blackwallontheundulatingcontouroftheshore.Twomastsandafunneluprosefrombehinditwithagreatrake,asifabouttofall:asolid,squareelevationinthemiddleboretheghostlyshapesofwhiteboats,thecurvesofdavits,linesofrailandstanchions,allconfusedandminglingdarklyeverywhere;butlowdown,amidships,asinglelightedportstaredoutonthenight,perfectlyround,likeasmall,fullmoon,whoseyellowbeamcaughtapatchofwetmud,theedgeoftroddengrass,twoturnsofheavycablewoundroundthefootofathickwoodenpostintheground.

           Mr.VanWyk,peeringalongside,heardamuzzyboastfulvoiceapparentlyjeeringatapersoncalledPrendergast.Itmouthedabusethickly,choked;thenpronouncedverydistinctlytheword“Murphy,”andchuckled.Glasstinkledtremulously.Allthesesoundscamefromthelightedport.Mr.VanWykhesitated,stooped;itwasimpossibletolookthroughunlesshewentdownintothemud.

           “Sterne,”hesaid,halfaloud.

           Thedrunkenvoicewithinsaidgladly—

           “Sterne—ofcourse.Lookathimblink.Lookathim!Sterne,Whalley,Massy.Massy,Whalley,Sterne.ButMassy’sthebest.Youcan’tcomeoverhim.Hewouldjustlovetoseeyoustarve.”

           Mr.