the moon pool-第13章

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nights　before　we　found　him；〃　I　replied。　　〃And　as　for　looking

for　anyone　on　these　waters　after　such　a　timeit's　hopeless。〃



〃That's　true；〃　said　O'Keefe。　　〃But　his　wife　and　baby！　　Poor；

poor　devil！〃



He　was　silent　for　a　time；　and　then；　at　my　solicitation；　be…

gan　to　tell　us　more　of　himself。　　He　had　been　little　more　than

twenty　when　he　had　won　his　wings　and　entered　the　war。　　He

had　been　seriously　wounded　at　Ypres　during　the　third　year

of　the　struggle；　and　when　he　recovered　the　war　was　over。

Shortly　after　that　his　mother　had　died。　　Lonely　and　restless；

he　had　re…entered　the　Air　Service；　and　had　remained　in　it

ever　since。



〃And　though　the　war's　long　over；　I　get　homesick　for　the

lark's　land　with　the　German　planes　playing　tunes　on　their

machine　guns　and　their　Archies　tickling　the　soles　of　my

feet；〃　he　sighed。　　〃If　you're　in　love；　love　to　the　limit；　and　if

you　hate；　why　hate　like　the　devil　and　if　it's　a　fight　you're　in；

get　where　it's　hottest　and　fight　like　hellif　you　don't　life's

not　worth　the　living；〃　sighed　he。



I　watched　him　as　he　talked；　feeling　my　liking　for　him

steadily　increasing。　　If　I　could　but　have　a　man　like　this　be…

side　me　on　the　path　of　unknown　peril　upon　which　I　had　set

my　feet　I　thought；　wistfully。　　We　sat　and　smoked　a　bit；　sip…

ping　the　strong　coffee　the　Portuguese　made　so　well。



Da　Costa　at　last　relieved　the　Cantonese　at　the　wheel。

O'Keefe　and　I　drew　chairs　up　to　the　rail。　　The　brighter　stars

shone　out　dimly　through　a　hazy　sky；　gleams　of　phosphores…

cence　tipped　the　crests　of　the　waves　and　sparkled　with　an

almost　angry　brilliance　as　the　bow　of　the　Suwarna　tossed

them　aside。　　O'Keefe　pulled　contentedly　at　a　cigarette。　　The

glowing　spark　lighted　the　keen；　boyish　face　and　the　blue

eyes；　now　black　and　brooding　under　the　spell　of　the　tropic

night。



　〃Are　you　American　or　Irish；　O'Keefe？〃　I　asked　suddenly。



　〃Why？〃　he　laughed。



〃Because；〃　I　answered；　〃from　your　name　and　your　service

I　would　suppose　you　Irishbut　your　command　of　pure

Americanese　makes　me　doubtful。〃



He　grinned　amiably。



〃I'll　tell　you　how　that　is；〃　he　said。　　〃My　mother　was　an

Americana　Grace；　of　Virginia。　　My　father　was　the

O'Keefe；　of　Coleraine。　　And　these　two　loved　each　other　so

well　that　the　heart　they　gave　me　is　half　Irish　and　half

American。　　My　father　died　when　I　was　sixteen。　　I　used　to　go

to　the　States　with　my　mother　every　other　year　for　a　month

or　two。　　But　after　my　father　died　we　used　to　go　to　Ireland

every　other　year。　　And　there　you　areI'm　as　much　Ameri…

can　as　I　am　Irish。



〃When　I'm　in　love；　or　excited；　or　dreaming；　or　mad　I

have　the　brogue。　　But　for　the　everyday　purpose　of　life　I　like

the　United　States　talk；　and　I　know　Broadway　as　well　as　I　do

Binevenagh　Lane；　and　the　Sound　as　well　as　St。　Patrick's

Channel；　educated　a　bit　at　Eton；　a　bit　at　Harvard；　always

too　much　money　to　have　to　make　any；　in　love　lots　of　times；

and　never　a　heartache　after　that　wasn't　a　pleasant　one；　and

never　a　real　purpose　in　life　until　I　took　the　king's　shilling

and　earned　my　wings；　something　over　thirtyand　that's　me

Larry　O'Keefe。〃



〃But　it　was　the　Irish　O'Keefe　who　sat　out　there　waiting

for　the　banshee；〃　I　laughed。



〃It　was　that；〃　he　said　somberly；　and　I　heard　the　brogue

creep　over　his　voice　like　velvet　and　his　eyes　grew　brooding

again。　　〃There's　never　an　O'Keefe　for　these　thousand　years

that　has　passed　without　his　warning。　　An'　twice　have　I　heard

the　banshee　callingonce　it　was　when　my　younger　brother

died　an'　once　when　my　father　lay　waiting　to　be　carried　out

on　the　ebb　tide。〃



He　mused　a　moment；　then　went　on：　〃An'　once　I　saw　an

Annir　Choille；　a　girl　of　the　green　people；　flit　like　a　shade　of

green　fire　through　Carntogher　woods；　an'　once　at　Dun…

chraig　I　slept　where　the　ashes　of　the　Dun　of　Cormac　Mac…

Concobar　are　mixed　with　those　of　Cormac　an'　Eilidh　the

Fair；　all　burned　in　the　nine　flames　that　sprang　from　the　harp…

ing　of　Cravetheen；　an'　I　heard　the　echo　of　his　dead　harp…

ings〃



He　paused　again　and　then；　softly；　with　that　curiously

sweet；　high　voice　that　only　the　Irish　seem　to　have；　he　sang：





Woman　of　the　white　breasts；　Eilidh；

Woman　of　the　gold…brown　hair；　and　lips　of　the　red；　red　rowan；

Where　is　the　swan　that　is　whiter；　with　breast　more　soft；

Or　the　wave　on　the　sea　that　moves　as　thou　movest；　Eilidh。











CHAPTER　VIII



Olaf's　Story



THERE　was　a　little　silence。　　I　looked　upon　him　with　wonder。

Clearly　he　was　in　deepest　earnest。　　I　know　the　psychology

of　the　Gael　is　a　curious　one　and　that　deep　in　all　their　hearts

their　ancient　traditions　and　beliefs　have　strong　and　living

roots。　　And　I　was　both　amused　and　touched。



Here　was　this　soldier；　who　had　faced　war　and　its　ugly

realities　open…eyed　and　fearless；　picking；　indeed；　the　most

dangerous　branch　of　service　for　his　own；　a　modern　if　ever

there　was　one；　appreciative　of　most　unmystical　Broadway；

and　yet　soberly　and　earnestly　attesting　to　his　belief　in　ban…

shee；　in　shadowy　people　of　the　woods；　and　phantom　harpers！

I　wondered　what　he　would　think　if　he　could　see　the　Dweller

and　then；　with　a　pang；　that　perhaps　his　superstitions　might

make　him　an　easy　prey。



He　shook　his　head　half　impatiently　and　ran　a　hand　over

his　eyes；　turned　to　me　and　grinned：



〃Don't　think　I'm　cracked；　Professor；〃　he　said。　　〃I'm　not。

But　it　takes　me　that　way　now　and　then。　　It's　the　Irish　in　me。

And；　believe　it　or　not；　I'm　telling　you　the　truth。〃



I　looked　eastward　where　the　moon；　now　nearly　a　week

past　the　full；　was　mounting。



〃You　can't　make　me　see　what　you've　seen；　Lieutenant；〃　I

laughed。　　〃But　you　can　make　me　hear。　　I've　always　wondered

what　kind　of　a　noise　a　disembodied　spirit　could　make　with…

out　any　vocal　cords　or　breath　or　any　other　earthly　sound…

producing　mechanism。　　How　does　the　banshee　sound？〃



O'Keefe　looked　at　me　seriously。



〃All　right；〃　he　said。　　〃I'll　show　you。〃　From　deep　down　in

his　throat　came　first　a　low；　weird　sobbing　that　mounted

steadily　into　a　keening　whose　mournfulness　made　my　skin

creep。　　And　then　his　hand　shot　out　and　gripped　my　shoulder；

and　I　stiffened　like　stone　in　my　chairfor　from　behind　us；

like　an　echo；　and　then　taking　up　the　cry；　swelled　a　wail　that

seemed　to　hold　within　it　a　sublimation　of　the　sorrows　of

centuries！　　It　gathered　itself　into　one　heartbroken；　sobbing

note　and　died　away！　　O'Keefe's　grip　loosened；　and　he　rose

swiftly　to　his　feet。



〃It's　all　right；　Professor；〃　he　said。　　〃It's　for　me。　　It　found

meall　this　way　from　Ireland。〃



Again　the　silence　was　rent　by　the　cry。　　But　now　I　had　lo…

cated　it。　　It　came　from　my　room；　and　it　could　mean　only　one

thingHuldricksson　had　wakened。



〃Forget　your　banshee！〃　I　gasped；　and　made　a　jump　for　the

cabin。



Out　of　the　corner　of　my　eye　I　noted　a　look　of　half…sheep…

ish　relief　flit　over　O'Keefe's　face；　and　then　he　was　beside　me。

Da　Costa　shouted　an　order　from　the　wheel；　the　Cantonese

ran　up　and　took　it　from　his　hands　and　the　little　Portuguese

pattered　down　toward　us。　　My　hand　on　the　door；　ready　to

throw　it　open；　I　stopped。　　What　if　the　Dweller　were　within

what　if　we　had　been　wrong　and　it　was　not　dependent　for　its

power　upon　that　full　flood　of　moon　ray　which　Throck…

martin　had　thought　essential　to　draw　it　from　the　blue　pool！



From　within；　the　sobbing　wail　began　once　more　to　rise。

O'Keefe　pushed　me　aside；　threw　open　the　door　and　crouched

low　within　it。　　I　saw　an　automatic　flash　dully　in　his　hand；　saw

it　cover　the　cabin　from　side　to　side；　following　the　swift　sweep

of　his　eyes　around　it。　　Then　he　straightened　and　his　face；

turned　toward　the　berth；　was　filled　with　wondering　pity。



Through　the　window　streamed　a　shaft　of　the　moonlight。

It　fell　upon　Huldricksson's　staring　eyes；　in　them　great　tears

slowly　gathered　and　rolled　down　his　cheeks；　from　his　opened

mouth　came　the　woe…laden　wailing。　　I　ran　to　the　port　and

drew　the　curtains。　　Da　Costa　snapped　the　lights。



The