Кінець рабства
II
Buthecheckedhimselfinthedoorway,andwithoutlookingback,“Bythebye,”hesaid,“thereshouldbeanemptywoodencaseputawayinthelazarette.Ithasnotbeenbrokenup—hasit?”
Themateshuthismouth,andthenaskedasifdazed,“Whatemptycase,sir?”
“Abigflatpacking-casebelongingtothatpaintinginmyroom.Letitbetakenupondeckandtellthecarpentertolookitover.Imaywanttouseitbeforelong.”
Thechiefofficerdidnotstiralimbtillhehadheardthedoorofthecaptain’sstate-roomslamwithinthecuddy.Thenhebeckonedaftthesecondmatewithhisforefingertotellhimthattherewassomething“inthewind.”
WhenthebellrangCaptainWhalley’sauthoritativevoiceboomedoutthroughacloseddoor,“Sitdownanddon’twaitforme.”Andhisimpressedofficerstooktheirplaces,exchanginglooksandwhispersacrossthetable.What!Nobreakfast?Andafterapparentlyknockingaboutallnightondeck,too!Clearly,therewassomethinginthewind.Intheskylightabovetheirheads,bowedearnestlyovertheplates,threewirecagesrockedandrattledtotherestlessjumpingofthehungrycanaries;andtheycoulddetectthesoundsoftheir“oldman’s”deliberatemovementswithinhisstate-room.CaptainWhalleywasmethodicallywindingupthechronometers,dustingtheportraitofhislatewife,gettingacleanwhiteshirtoutofthedrawers,makinghimselfreadyinhispunctiliousunhurriedmannertogoashore.Hecouldnothaveswallowedasinglemouthfuloffoodthatmorning.HehadmadeuphismindtoselltheFairMaid.<
