Кінець рабства
XIV
Assoonasshetouchedhewouldhastenonthebridge,getholdofthecoat(nobodywouldnoticeinthedark),andshakeitupside-downovertheside,orevenflingitintothesea.Adetail.Whocouldguess?Coatbeenseenhangingtherefromthathookhundredsoftimes.Nevertheless,whenhesatdownonthelowerstepofthebridge-ladderhiskneesknockedtogetheralittle.Thewaitingpartwastheworstofit.Attimeshewouldbegintopantquickly,asthoughhehadbeenrunning,andthenbreathelargely,swellingwiththeintimatesenseofamasteredfate.NowandthenhewouldheartheshuffleoftheSerang’sbarefeetupthere:quiet,lowvoiceswouldexchangeafewwords,andlapsealmostatonceintosilence....
“Tellmedirectlyyouseeanyland,Serang.”
“Yes,Tuan.Notyet.”
“No,notyet,”CaptainWhalleywouldagree.
Theshiphadbeenthebestfriendofhisdecline.HehadsentallthemoneyhehadmadebyandintheSofalatohisdaughter.Histhoughtlingeredonthename.Howoftenheandhiswifehadtalkedoverthecotofthechildinthebigstern-cabinoftheCondor;shewouldgrowup,shewouldmarry,shewouldlovethem,theywouldlivenearherandlookatherhappiness—itwouldgoonwithoutend.Well,hiswifewasdead,tothechildhehadgivenallhehadtogive;hewishedhecouldcomenearher,seeher,seeherfaceonce,liveinthesoundofhervoice,thatcouldmakethedarknessofthelivinggravereadyforhimsupportable.Hehadbeenstarvedoflovetoolong.Heimaginedhertenderness.
TheSeranghadbeenpeeringforward,andnowandthenglancingatthechair.
