the mirror of the sea-第43章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！




misty　eyes。　　One；　two；　three；　four。







〃Dominic；　where's　Cesar？〃　I　cried。







As　if　repulsing　the　very　sound　of　the　name；　the　Padrone　made　that



ample；　sweeping；　knocking…down　gesture。　　I　stepped　back　a　pace　and



stared　at　him　fearfully。　　His　open　shirt　uncovered　his　muscular



neck　and　the　thick　hair　on　his　chest。　　He　planted　the　oar　upright



in　the　soft　soil；　and　rolling　up　slowly　his　right　sleeve；　extended



the　bare　arm　before　my　face。







〃This；〃　he　began；　with　an　extreme　deliberation；　whose　superhuman



restraint　vibrated　with　the　suppressed　violence　of　his　feelings；



〃is　the　arm　which　delivered　the　blow。　　I　am　afraid　it　is　your　own



gold　that　did　the　rest。　　I　forgot　all　about　your　money。〃　　He



clasped　his　hands　together　in　sudden　distress。　　〃I　forgot；　I



forgot；〃　he　repeated　disconsolately。







〃Cesar　stole　the　belt？〃　I　stammered　out；　bewildered。







〃And　who　else？　　CANALLIA！　　He　must　have　been　spying　on　you　for



days。　　And　he　did　the　whole　thing。　　Absent　all　day　in　Barcelona。



TRADITORE！　　Sold　his　jacket　…　to　hire　a　horse。　　Ha！　ha！　　A　good



affair！　　I　tell　you　it　was　he　who　set　him　at　us。　。　。　。〃







Dominic　pointed　at　the　sea；　where　the　guardacosta　was　a　mere　dark



speck。　　His　chin　dropped　on　his　breast。







〃。　。　。　On　information；〃　he　murmured；　in　a　gloomy　voice。　　〃A



Cervoni！　　Oh！　my　poor　brother！　。　。　。〃







〃And　you　drowned　him；〃　I　said　feebly。







〃I　struck　once；　and　the　wretch　went　down　like　a　stone　…　with　the



gold。　　Yes。　　But　he　had　time　to　read　in　my　eyes　that　nothing　could



save　him　while　I　was　alive。　　And　had　I　not　the　right　…　I；　Dominic



Cervoni；　Padrone；　who　brought　him　aboard　your　fellucca　…　my　nephew；



a　traitor？〃







He　pulled　the　oar　out　of　the　ground　and　helped　me　carefully　down



the　slope。　　All　the　time　he　never　once　looked　me　in　the　face。　　He



punted　us　over；　then　shouldered　the　oar　again　and　waited　till　our



men　were　at　some　distance　before　he　offered　me　his　arm。　　After　we



had　gone　a　little　way；　the　fishing　hamlet　we　were　making　for　came



into　view。　　Dominic　stopped。







〃Do　you　think　you　can　make　your　way　as　far　as　the　houses　by



yourself？〃　he　asked　me　quietly。







〃Yes；　I　think　so。　　But　why？　　Where　are　you　going；　Dominic？〃







〃Anywhere。　　What　a　question！　　Signorino；　you　are　but　little　more



than　a　boy　to　ask　such　a　question　of　a　man　having　this　tale　in　his



family。　　AH！　　TRADITORE！　　What　made　me　ever　own　that　spawn　of　a



hungry　devil　for　our　own　blood！　　Thief；　cheat；　coward；　liar　…　other



men　can　deal　with　that。　　But　I　was　his　uncle；　and　so　。　。　。　I　wish



he　had　poisoned　me　…　CHAROGNE！　　But　this：　　that　I；　a　confidential



man　and　a　Corsican；　should　have　to　ask　your　pardon　for　bringing　on



board　your　vessel；　of　which　I　was　Padrone；　a　Cervoni；　who　has



betrayed　you　…　a　traitor！　…　that　is　too　much。　　It　is　too　much。



Well；　I　beg　your　pardon；　and　you　may　spit　in　Dominic's　face　because



a　traitor　of　our　blood　taints　us　all。　　A　theft　may　be　made　good



between　men；　a　lie　may　be　set　right；　a　death　avenged；　but　what　can



one　do　to　atone　for　a　treachery　like　this？　。　。　。　Nothing。〃







He　turned　and　walked　away　from　me　along　the　bank　of　the　stream；



flourishing　a　vengeful　arm　and　repeating　to　himself　slowly；　with



savage　emphasis：　　〃AH！　　CANAILLE！　　CANAILLE！　　CANAILLE！。　。　。〃　　He



left　me　there　trembling　with　weakness　and　mute　with　awe。　　Unable　to



make　a　sound；　I　gazed　after　the　strangely　desolate　figure　of　that



seaman　carrying　an　oar　on　his　shoulder　up　a　barren；　rock…strewn



ravine　under　the　dreary　leaden　sky　of　Tremolino's　last　day。　　Thus；



walking　deliberately；　with　his　back　to　the　sea；　Dominic　vanished



from　my　sight。







With　the　quality　of　our　desires；　thoughts；　and　wonder　proportioned



to　our　infinite　littleness；　we　measure　even　time　itself　by　our　own



stature。　　Imprisoned　in　the　house　of　personal　illusions；　thirty



centuries　in　mankind's　history　seem　less　to　look　back　upon　than



thirty　years　of　our　own　life。　　And　Dominic　Cervoni　takes　his　place



in　my　memory　by　the　side　of　the　legendary　wanderer　on　the　sea　of



marvels　and　terrors；　by　the　side　of　the　fatal　and　impious



adventurer；　to　whom　the　evoked　shade　of　the　soothsayer　predicted　a



journey　inland　with　an　oar　on　his　shoulder；　till　he　met　men　who　had



never　set　eyes　on　ships　and　oars。　　It　seems　to　me　I　can　see　them



side　by　side　in　the　twilight　of　an　arid　land；　the　unfortunate



possessors　of　the　secret　lore　of　the　sea；　bearing　the　emblem　of



their　hard　calling　on　their　shoulders；　surrounded　by　silent　and



curious　men：　　even　as　I；　too；　having　turned　my　back　upon　the　sea；



am　bearing　those　few　pages　in　the　twilight；　with　the　hope　of



finding　in　an　inland　valley　the　silent　welcome　of　some　patient



listener。















XLVI。















〃A　fellow　has　now　no　chance　of　promotion　unless　he　jumps　into　the



muzzle　of　a　gun　and　crawls　out　of　the　touch…hole。〃







He　who；　a　hundred　years　ago；　more　or　less；　pronounced　the　above



words　in　the　uneasiness　of　his　heart；　thirsting　for　professional



distinction；　was　a　young　naval　officer。　　Of　his　life；　career；



achievements；　and　end　nothing　is　preserved　for　the　edification　of



his　young　successors　in　the　fleet　of　to…day　…　nothing　but　this



phrase；　which；　sailor…like　in　the　simplicity　of　personal　sentiment



and　strength　of　graphic　expression；　embodies　the　spirit　of　the



epoch。　　This　obscure　but　vigorous　testimony　has　its　price；　its



significance；　and　its　lesson。　　It　comes　to　us　from　a　worthy



ancestor。　　We　do　not　know　whether　he　lived　long　enough　for　a　chance



of　that　promotion　whose　way　was　so　arduous。　　He　belongs　to　the



great　array　of　the　unknown　…　who　are　great；　indeed；　by　the　sum



total　of　the　devoted　effort　put　out；　and　the　colossal　scale　of



success　attained　by　their　insatiable　and　steadfast　ambition。　　We　do



not　know　his　name；　we　only　know　of　him　what　is　material　for　us　to



know　…　that　he　was　never　backward　on　occasions　of　desperate



service。　　We　have　this　on　the　authority　of　a　distinguished　seaman



of　Nelson's　time。　　Departing　this　life　as　Admiral　of　the　Fleet　on



the　eve　of　the　Crimean　War；　Sir　Thomas　Byam　Martin　has　recorded　for



us　amongst　his　all　too　short　autobiographical　notes　these　few



characteristic　words　uttered　by　one　young　man　of　the　many　who　must



have　felt　that　particular　inconvenience　of　a　heroic　age。







The　distinguished　Admiral　had　lived　through　it　himself；　and　was　a



good　judge　of　what　was　expected　in　those　days　from　men　and　ships。



A　brilliant　frigate　captain；　a　man　of　sound　judgment；　of　dashing



bravery　and　of　serene　mind；　scrupulously　concerned　for　the　welfare



and　honour　of　the　navy；　he　missed　a　larger　fame　only　by　the　chances



of　the　service。　　We　may　well　quote　on　this　day　the　words　written　of



Nelson；　in　the　decline　of　a　well…spent　life；　by　Sir　T。　B。　Martin；



who　died　just　fifty　years　ago　on　the　very　anniversary　of　Trafalgar。







〃Nelson's　nobleness　of　mind　was　a　prominent　and　beautiful　part　of



his　character。　　His　foibles　…　faults　if　you　like　…　will　never　be



dwelt　upon　in　any　memorandum　of　mine；〃　he　declares；　and　goes　on　…



〃he　whose　splendid　and　matchless　achievements　will　be　remembered



with　admiration　while　there　is　gratitude　in　the　hearts　of　Britons；



or　while　a　ship　floats　upon　the　ocean；　he　whose　example　on　the



breaking　out　of　the　war　gave　so　chivalrous　an　impulse　to　the



younger　men　of　the　service　that　all　rushed　into　rivalry　of　daring



which　disdained　every　warning　of　prudence；　and　led　to　acts　of



heroic　enterprise　which　tended　greatly　to　exalt　the　glory　of　our



nation。〃







These　are　his　words；　and　they　are　true。　　The　dashing　young　frigate



captain；　the　man　who　in　middle　age　was　nothing　loth　to　give　chase



single…handed　in　his　seventy…four　to　a　whole　fleet；　the　man　of



enterprise　and　consummate　judgment；　the　old　Admiral　of　th