第4章

Ithasadeeper，and，Iventuretothink，amoreestimableoriginthanthecapriceofemotionallawlessness。Itis，indeed，lawful，insomuchthatitisgiven（reluctantly）foraconsideration，forseveralconsiderations。Thereisthatrobustness，forinstance，sooftenthesignofgoodmoralbalance。That’saconsideration。Itisnot，indeed，pleasanttobestampedupon，buttheverythoroughnessoftheoperation，implyingnotonlyacarefulreading，butsomerealinsightintoworkwhosequalitiesanddefects，whatevertheymaybe，arenotsomuchonthesurface，issomethingtobethankfulforinviewofthefactthatitmayhappentoone’sworktobecondemnedwithoutbeingreadatall。Thisisthemostfatuousadventurethatcanwellhappentoawriterventuringhissoulamongcriticisms。Itcandoonenoharm，ofcourse，butitisdisagreeable。Itisdisagreeableinthesamewayasdiscoveringathree-card-trickmanamongadecentlotoffolkinathird-classcompartment。Theopenimpudenceofthewholetransaction，appealinginsidiouslytothefollyandcredulityofmankind，thebrazen，shamelesspatter，proclaimingthefraudopenlywhileinsistingonthefairnessofthegame，giveoneafeelingofsickeningdisgust。Thehonestviolenceofaplainmanplayingafairgamefairly——evenifhemeanstoknockyouover——mayappearshocking，butitremainswithinthepaleofdecency。Damagingasitmaybe，itisinnosenseoffensive。

Onemaywellfeelsomeregardforhonesty，evenifpractiseduponone’sownvilebody。Butitisveryobviousthatanenemyofthatsortwillnotbestayedbyexplanationsorplacatedbyapologies。WereItoadvancethepleaofyouthinexcuseofthenaivenesstobefoundinthesepages，hewouldbelikelytosay"Bosh！"inacolumnandahalfoffierceprint。Yetawriterisnoolderthanhisfirstpublishedbook，and，notwithstandingthevainappearancesofdecaywhichattendusinthistransitorylife，Istandherewiththewreathofonlyfifteenshortsummersonmybrow。

Withtheremark，then，thatatsuchtenderagesomenaivenessoffeelingandexpressionisexcusable，Iproceedtoadmitthat，uponthewhole，mypreviousstateofexistencewasnotagoodequipmentforaliterarylife。PerhapsIshouldnothaveusedthewordliterary。Thatwordpresupposesanintimacyofacquaintancewithletters，aturnofmind，andamanneroffeelingtowhichI

darelaynoclaim。Ionlyloveletters;buttheloveoflettersdoesnotmakealiteraryman，anymorethantheloveoftheseamakesaseaman。Anditisverypossible，too，thatIlovethelettersinthesamewayaliterarymanmaylovetheseahelooksatfromtheshore——asceneofgreatendeavourandofgreatachievementschangingthefaceoftheworld，thegreatopenwaytoallsortsofundiscoveredcountries。No，perhapsIhadbettersaythatthelifeatsea——andIdon’tmeanameretasteofit，butagoodbroadspanofyears，somethingthatreallycountsasrealservice——isnot，uponthewhole，agoodequipmentforawritinglife。Godforbid，though，thatIshouldbethoughtofasdenyingmymastersofthequarter-deck。Iamnotcapableofthatsortofapostasy。Ihaveconfessedmyattitudeofpietytowardtheirshadesinthreeorfourtales，andifanymanonearthmorethananotherneedstobetruetohimselfashehopestobesaved，itiscertainlythewriteroffiction。

WhatImeanttosay，simply，isthatthequarter-decktrainingdoesnotprepareonesufficientlyforthereceptionofliterarycriticism。Onlythat，andnomore。Butthisdefectisnotwithoutgravity。Ifitbepermissibletotwist，invert，adapt（andspoil）Mr。AnatoleFrance’sdefinitionofagoodcritic，thenletussaythatthegoodauthorishewhocontemplateswithoutmarkedjoyorexcessivesorrowtheadventuresofhissoulamongcriticisms。Farbefrommetheintentiontomisleadanattentivepublicintothebeliefthatthereisnocriticismatsea。Thatwouldbedishonest，andevenimpolite。Everthingcanbefoundatsea，accordingtothespiritofyourquest——strife，peace，romance，naturalismofthemostpronouncedkind，ideals，boredom，disgust，inspiration——andeveryconceivableopportunity，includingtheopportunitytomakeafoolofyourself，exactlyasinthepursuitofliterature。Butthequarter-deckcriticismissomewhatdifferentfromliterarycriticism。Thismuchtheyhaveincommon，thatbeforetheoneandtheothertheansweringback，asageneralrule，doesnotpay。

Yes，youfindcriticismatsea，andevenappreciation——Itellyoueverythingistobefoundonsaltwater——criticismgenerallyimpromptu，andalwaysvivavoce，whichistheoutward，obviousdifferencefromtheliteraryoperationofthatkind，withconsequentfreshnessandvigourwhichmaybelackingintheprintedword。Withappreciation，whichcomesattheend，whenthecriticandthecriticisedareabouttopart，itisotherwise。

Theseaappreciationofone’shumbletalentshasthepermanencyofthewrittenword，seldomthecharmofvariety，isformalinitsphrasing。Theretheliterarymasterhasthesuperiority，thoughhe，too，canineffectbutsay——andoftensaysitintheveryphrase——"Icanhighlyrecommend。"Onlyusuallyheusestheword"We，"therebeingsomeoccultvirtueinthefirstpersonpluralwhichmakesitspeciallyfitforcriticalandroyaldeclarations。Ihaveasmallhandfuloftheseseaappreciations，signedbyvariousmasters，yellowingslowlyinmywriting-table’slefthanddrawer，rustlingundermyreverenttouch，likeahandfulofdryleavespluckedforatendermementofromthetreeofknowledge。Strange！Itseemsthatitisforthesefewbitsofpaper，headedbythenamesofafewScotsandEnglishshipmasters，thatIhavefacedtheastonishedindignations，themockeries，andthereproachesofasorthardtobearforaboyoffifteen;thatIhavebeenchargedwiththewantofpatriotism，thewantofsense，andthewantofheart，too;thatIwentthroughagoniesofself-conflictandshedsecrettearsnotafew，andhadthebeautiesoftheFurcaPassspoiledforme，andhavebeencalledan"incorrigibleDonQuixote，"inallusiontothebook-bornmadnessoftheknight。Forthatspoil！Theyrustle，thosebitsofpaper——somedozenoftheminall。Inthatfaint，ghostlysoundtherelivethememoriesoftwentyyears，thevoicesofroughmennownomore，thestrongvoiceoftheeverlastingwinds，andthewhisperofamysteriousspell，themurmurofthegreatsea，whichmusthavesomehowreachedmyinlandcradleandenteredmyunconsciousear，likethatformulaofMohammedanfaiththeMussulmanfatherwhispersintotheearofhisnew-borninfant，makinghimoneofthefaithfulalmostwithhisfirstbreath。IdonotknowwhetherIhavebeenagoodseaman，butI

knowIhavebeenaveryfaithfulone。And，afterall，thereisthathandfulof"characters"fromvariousshipstoprovethatalltheseyearshavenotbeenaltogetheradream。Theretheyare，brief，andmonotonousintone，butassuggestivebitsofwritingtomeasanyinspiredpagetobefoundinliterature。Butthen，yousee，Ihavebeencalledromantic。Well，thatcan’tbehelped。Butstay。IseemtorememberthatIhavebeencalledarealist，also。Andasthatcharge，too，canbemadeout，letustrytoliveuptoit，atwhatevercost，forachange。Withthisendinview，Iwillconfidetoyoucoyly，andonlybecausethereisnooneabouttoseemyblushesbythelightofthemidnightlamp，thatthesesuggestivebitsofquarter-deckappreciation，oneandall，containthewords"strictlysober。"

DidIoverhearacivilmurmur，"That’sverygratifying，tobesure？"Well，yes，itisgratifying——thankyou。Itisatleastasgratifyingtobecertifiedsoberastobecertifiedromantic，thoughsuchcertificateswouldnotqualifyoneforthesecretaryshipofatemperanceassociationorforthepostofofficialtroubadourtosomelordlydemocraticinstitutionsuchastheLondonCountyCouncil，forinstance。Theaboveprosaicreflectionisputdownhereonlyinordertoprovethegeneralsobrietyofmyjudgmentinmundaneaffairs。Imakeapointofitbecauseacoupleofyearsago，acertainshortstoryofminebeingpublishedinaFrenchtranslation，aParisiancritic——IamalmostcertainitwasM。GustaveKahninthe"GilBlas"——givingmeashortnotice，summeduphisrapidimpressionofthewriter’squalityinthewordsunpuissantreveur。Sobeit！Whocouldcavilatthewordsofafriendlyreader？Yetperhapsnotsuchanunconditionaldreamerasallthat。IwillmakeboldtosaythatneitheratseanorashorehaveIeverlostthesenseofresponsibility。Thereismorethanonesortofintoxication。

EvenbeforethemostseductivereveriesIhaveremainedmindfulofthatsobrietyofinteriorlife，thatasceticismofsentiment，inwhichalonethenakedformoftruth，suchasoneconceivesit，suchasonefeelsit，canberenderedwithoutshame。Itisbutamaudlinandindecentveritythatcomesoutthroughthestrengthofwine。Ihavetriedtobeasoberworkerallmylife——allmytwolives。Ididsofromtaste，nodoubt，havinganinstinctivehorroroflosingmysenseoffullself-possession，butalsofromartisticconviction。Yettherearesomanypitfallsoneachsideofthetruepaththat，havinggonesomeway，andfeelingalittlebatteredandweary，asamiddle-agedtravellerwillfromthemeredailydifficultiesofthemarch，IaskmyselfwhetherIhavekeptalways，alwaysfaithfultothatsobrietywhereinthereispowerandtruthandpeace。

Astomyseasobriety，thatisquiteproperlycertifiedunderthesign-manualofseveraltrustworthyshipmastersofsomestandingintheirtime。Iseemtohearyourpolitemurmurthat"Surelythismighthavebeentakenforgranted。"Well，no。Itmightnothavebeen。ThatAugustacademicalbody，theMarineDepartmentoftheBoardofTrade，takesnothingforgrantedinthegrantingofitslearneddegrees。ByitsregulationsissuedunderthefirstMerchantShippingAct，theverywordSOBERmustbewritten，orawholesackful，aton，amountainofthemostenthusiasticappreciationwillavailyounothing。Thedooroftheexaminationroomsshallremainclosedtoyourtearsandentreaties。ThemostfanaticaladvocateoftemperancecouldnotbemorepitilesslyfierceinhisrectitudethantheMarineDepartmentoftheBoardofTrade。AsIhavebeenfacetofaceatvarioustimeswithalltheexaminersofthePortofLondoninmygeneration，therecanbenodoubtastotheforceandthecontinuityofmyabstemiousness。Threeofthemwereexaminersinseamanship，anditwasmyfatetobedeliveredintothehandsofeachofthematproperintervalsofseaservice。Thefirstofall，tall，spare，withaperfectlywhiteheadandmustache，aquiet，kindlymanner，andanairofbenignintelligence，must，Iamforcedtoconclude，havebeenunfavourablyimpressedbysomethinginmyappearance。

Hisold，thinhandslooselyclaspedrestingonhiscrossedlegs，hebeganbyanelementaryquestion，inamildvoice，andwenton，wenton……Itlastedforhours，forhours。HadIbeenastrangemicrobewithpotentialitiesofdeadlymischieftotheMerchantServiceIcouldnothavebeensubmittedtoamoremicroscopicexamination。Greatlyreassuredbyhisapparentbenevolence，Ihadbeenatfirstveryalertinmyanswers。Butatlengththefeelingofmybraingettingaddledcreptuponme。

Andstillthepassionlessprocesswenton，withasenseofuntoldageshavingbeenspentalreadyonmerepreliminaries。ThenIgotfrightened。Iwasnotfrightenedofbeingplucked;thateventualitydidnotevenpresentitselftomymind。Itwassomethingmuchmoreseriousandweird。"Thisancientperson，"I

saidtomyself，terrified，"issonearhisgravethathemusthavelostallnotionoftime。Heisconsideringthisexaminationintermsofeternity。Itisallverywellforhim。Hisraceisrun。ButImayfindmyselfcomingoutofthisroomintotheworldofmenastranger，friendless，forgottenbymyverylandlady，evenwereIableafterthisendlessexperiencetorememberthewaytomyhiredhome。"Thisstatementisnotsomuchofaverbalexaggerationasmaybesupposed。SomeveryqueerthoughtspassedthroughmyheadwhileIwasconsideringmyanswers;thoughtswhichhadnothingtodowithseamanship，noryetwithanythingreasonableknowntothisearth。IverilybelievethatattimesIwaslight-headedinasortoflanguidway。Atlasttherefellasilence，andthat，too，seemedtolastforages，while，bendingoverhisdesk，theexaminerwroteoutmypass-slipslowlywithanoiselesspen。Heextendedthescrapofpapertomewithoutaword，inclinedhiswhiteheadgravelytomypartingbow……

WhenIgotoutoftheroomIfeltlimplyflat，likeasqueezedlemon，andthedoorkeeperinhisglasscage，whereIstoppedtogetmyhatandtiphimashilling，said：

"Well！Ithoughtyouwerenevercomingout。"

"HowlonghaveIbeeninthere？"Iasked，faintly。

Hepulledouthiswatch。

"Hekeptyou，sir，justunderthreehours。Idon’tthinkthiseverhappenedwithanyofthegentlemenbefore。"

ItwasonlywhenIgotoutofthebuildingthatIbegantowalkonair。Andthehumananimalbeingaversefromchangeandtimidbeforetheunknown，IsaidtomyselfthatIreallywouldnotmindbeingexaminedbythesamemanonafutureoccasion。Butwhenthetimeofordealcameroundagainthedoorkeeperletmeintoanotherroom，withthenowfamiliarparaphernaliaofmodelsofshipsandtackle，aboardforsignalsonthewall，abig，longtablecoveredwithofficialformsandhavinganunriggedmastfixedtotheedge。Thesolitarytenantwasunknowntomebysight，thoughnotbyreputation，whichwassimplyexecrable。

Shortandsturdy，asfarasIcouldjudge，cladinanoldbrownmorning-suit，hesatleaningonhiselbow，hishandshadinghiseyes，andhalfavertedfromthechairIwastooccupyontheothersideofthetable。Hewasmotionless，mysterious，remote，enigmatical，withsomethingmournful，too，inthepose，likethatstatueofGiugliano（Ithink）deMedicishadinghisfaceonthetombbyMichaelAngelo，though，ofcourse，hewasfar，farfrombeingbeautiful。Hebeganbytryingtomakemetalknonsense。

ButIhadbeenwarnedofthatfiendishtrait，andcontradictedhimwithgreatassurance。Afterawhileheleftoff。Sofargood。Buthisimmobility，thethickelbowonthetable，theabrupt，unhappyvoice，theshadedandavertedfacegrewmoreandmoreimpressive。Hekeptinscrutablysilentforamoment，andthen，placingmeinashipofacertainsize，atsea，underconditionsofweather，season，locality，etc。——allveryclearandprecise——orderedmetoexecuteacertainmanoeuvre。BeforeIwashalfthroughwithithedidsomematerialdamagetotheship。

DirectlyIhadgrappledwiththedifficultyhecausedanothertopresentitself，andwhenthat，too，wasmethestuckanothershipbeforeme，creatingaverydangeroussituation。Ifeltslightlyoutragedbythisingenuityinpilingtroubleuponaman。

"Iwouldn’thavegotintothatmess，"Isuggested，mildly。"I

couldhaveseenthatshipbefore。"

Heneverstirredtheleastbit。

"No，youcouldn’t。Theweather’sthick。"

"Oh！Ididn’tknow，"Iapologizedblankly。

IsupposethatafterallImanagedtostaveoffthesmashwithsufficientapproachtoverisimilitude，andtheghastlybusinesswenton。Youmustunderstandthattheschemeofthetesthewasapplyingtomewas，Igathered，ahomewardpassage——thesortofpassageIwouldnotwishtomybitterestenemy。Thatimaginaryshipseemedtolabourunderamostcomprehensivecurse。It’snouseenlargingonthesenever-endingmisfortunes;sufficeittosaythatlongbeforetheendIwouldhavewelcomedwithgratitudeanopportunitytoexchangeintotheFlyingDutchman。FinallyheshovedmeintotheNorthSea（Isuppose）andprovidedmewithaleeshorewithoutlyingsand-banks——theDutchcoast，presumably。

Distance，eightmiles。Theevidenceofsuchimplacableanimositydeprivedmeofspeechforquitehalfaminute。

"Well，"hesaid——forourpacehadbeenverysmart，indeed，tillthen。

"Iwillhavetothinkalittle，sir。"

"Doesn’tlookasifthereweremuchtimetothink，"hemuttered，sardonically，fromunderhishand。

"No，sir，"Isaid，withsomewarmth。"Notonboardaship，I

couldsee。ButsomanyaccidentshavehappenedthatIreallycan’trememberwhatthere’sleftformetoworkwith。"

Stillhalfaverted，andwithhiseyesconcealed，hemadeunexpectedlyagruntingremark。

"You’vedoneverywell。"

"HaveIthetwoanchorsatthebow，sir？"Iasked。

"Yes。"

Ipreparedmyselfthen，asalasthopefortheship，toletthembothgointhemosteffectualmanner，whenhisinfernalsystemoftestingresourcefulnesscameintoplayagain。

"Butthere’sonlyonecable。You’velosttheother。"

Itwasexasperating。

"ThenIwouldbackthem，ifIcould，andtailtheheaviesthawseronboardontheendofthechainbeforelettinggo，andifshepartedfromthat，whichisquitelikely，Iwouldjustdonothing。

Shewouldhavetogo。"

"Nothingmoretodo，eh？"

"No，sir。Icoulddonomore。"

Hegaveabitterhalf-laugh。

"Youcouldalwayssayyourprayers。"

Hegotup，stretchedhimself，andyawnedslightly。Itwasasallow，strong，unamiableface。Heputme，inasurly，boredfashion，throughtheusualquestionsastolightsandsignals，andIescapedfromtheroomthankfully——passed！Fortyminutes！

AndagainIwalkedonairalongTowerHill，wheresomanygoodmenhadlosttheirheadsbecause，Isuppose，theywerenotresourcefulenoughtosavethem。AndinmyheartofheartsIhadnoobjectiontomeetingthatexamineroncemorewhenthethirdandlastordealbecamedueinanotheryearorso。IevenhopedI

should。Iknewtheworstofhimnow，andfortyminutesisnotanunreasonabletime。Yes，Idistinctlyhoped……

Butnotabitofit。WhenIpresentedmyselftobeexaminedformastertheexaminerwhoreceivedmewasshort，plump，witharound，softfaceingray，fluffywhiskers，andfresh，loquaciouslips。

Hecommencedoperationswithaneasygoing"Let’ssee。H’m。

Supposeyoutellmeallyouknowofcharter-parties。"Hekeptitupinthatstyleallthrough，wanderingoffintheshapeofcommentintobitsoutofhisownlife，thenpullinghimselfupshortandreturningtothebusinessinhand。Itwasveryinteresting。"What’syourideaofajury-ruddernow？"hequeried，suddenly，attheendofaninstructiveanecdotebearinguponapointofstowage。

IwarnedhimthatIhadnoexperienceofalostrudderatsea，andgavehimtwoclassicalexamplesofmakeshiftsoutofatext-book。Inexchangehedescribedtomeajury-rudderhehadinventedhimselfyearsbefore，whenincommandofathree-thousand-tonsteamer。Itwas，Ideclare，thecleverestcontrivanceimaginable。"Maybeofusetoyousomeday，"heconcluded。"Youwillgointosteampresently。Everybodygoesintosteam。"

Therehewaswrong。Ineverwentintosteam——notreally。IfI

onlylivelongenoughIshallbecomeabizarrerelicofadeadbarbarism，asortofmonstrousantiquity，theonlyseamanofthedarkageswhohadnevergoneintosteam——notreally。

BeforetheexaminationwasoverheimpartedtomeafewinterestingdetailsofthetransportserviceinthetimeoftheCrimeanWar。

"Theuseofwireriggingbecamegeneralaboutthattime，too，"heobserved。"Iwasaveryyoungmasterthen。Thatwasbeforeyouwereborn。"

"Yes，sir。Iamoftheyearof1857。"

"TheMutinyyear，"hecommented，asiftohimself，addinginaloudertonethathisshiphappenedthentobeintheGulfofBengal，employedunderagovernmentcharter。

Clearlythetransportservicehadbeenthemakingofthisexaminer，whosounexpectedlyhadgivenmeaninsightintohisexistence，awakeninginmethesenseofthecontinuityofthatsealifeintowhichIhadsteppedfromoutside;givingatouchofhumanintimacytothemachineryofofficialrelations。Ifeltadopted。Hisexperiencewasforme，too，asthoughhehadbeenanancestor。

Writingmylongname（ithastwelveletters）withlaboriouscareontheslipofbluepaper，heremarked：

"YouareofPolishextraction。"

"Bornthere，sir。"

Helaiddownthepenandleanedbacktolookatmeasitwereforthefirsttime。

"Notmanyofyournationalityinourservice，Ishouldthink。I

neverremembermeetingoneeitherbeforeorafterIleftthesea。

Don’tremembereverhearingofone。Aninlandpeople，aren’tyou？"

Isaidyes——verymuchso。Wewereremotefromtheseanotonlybysituation，butalsofromacompleteabsenceofindirectassociation，notbeingacommercialnationatall，butpurelyagricultural。Hemadethenthequaintreflectionthatitwas"alongwayformetocomeouttobeginasealife";asifsealifewerenotpreciselyalifeinwhichonegoesalongwayfromhome。

Itoldhim，smiling，thatnodoubtIcouldhavefoundashipmuchnearermynativeplace，butIhadthoughttomyselfthatifIwastobeaseaman，thenIwouldbeaBritishseamanandnoother。

Itwasamatterofdeliberatechoice。

Henoddedslightlyatthat;and，ashekeptonlookingatmeinterrogatively，Ienlargedalittle，confessingthatIhadspentalittletimeonthewayintheMediterraneanandintheWestIndies。IdidnotwanttopresentmyselftotheBritishMerchantServiceinanaltogethergreenstate。Itwasnousetellinghimthatmymysteriousvocationwassostrongthatmyverywildoatshadtobesownatsea。Itwastheexacttruth，buthewouldnothaveunderstoodthesomewhatexceptionalpsychologyofmysea-going，Ifear。

"Isupposeyou’venevercomeacrossoneofyourcountrymenatsea。Haveyou，now？"

IadmittedIneverhad。Theexaminerhadgivenhimselfuptothespiritofgossipingidleness。Formyself，Iwasinnohastetoleavethatroom。Notintheleast。Theeraofexaminationswasover。Iwouldneveragainseethatfriendlymanwhowasaprofessionalancestor，asortofgrandfatherinthecraft。

Moreover，Ihadtowaittillhedismissedme，andofthattherewasnosign。Asheremainedsilent，lookingatme，Iadded：

"ButIhaveheardofone，someyearsago。HeseemstohavebeenaboyservinghistimeonboardaLiverpoolship，ifIamnotmistaken。"

"Whatwashisname？"

Itoldhim。

"Howdidyousaythat？"heasked，puckeringuphiseyesattheuncouthsound。

Irepeatedthenameverydistinctly。

"Howdoyouspellit？"

Itoldhim。Hemovedhisheadattheimpracticablenatureofthatname，andobserved：

"It’squiteaslongasyourown——isn’tit？"

Therewasnohurry。Ihadpassedformaster，andIhadalltherestofmylifebeforemetomakethebestofit。Thatseemedalongtime。Iwentleisurelythroughasmallmentalcalculation，andsaid：

"Notquite。Shorterbytwoletters，sir。"

"Isit？"Theexaminerpushedthesignedblueslipacrossthetabletome，androsefromhischair。Somehowthisseemedaveryabruptendingofourrelations，andIfeltalmostsorrytopartfromthatexcellentman，whowasmasterofashipbeforethewhisperoftheseahadreachedmycradle。Heofferedmehishandandwishedmewell。Heevenmadeafewstepstowardthedoorwithme，andendedwithgood-naturedadvice。

"Idon’tknowwhatmaybeyourplans，butyououghttogointosteam。Whenamanhasgothismaster’scertificateit’sthepropertime。IfIwereyouIwouldgointosteam。"

Ithankedhim，andshutthedoorbehindmedefinitelyontheeraofexaminations。ButthattimeIdidnotwalkonair，asonthefirsttwooccasions。Iwalkedacrossthehillofmanybeheadingswithmeasuredsteps。Itwasafact，Isaidtomyself，thatIwasnowaBritishmastermarinerbeyondadoubt。ItwasnotthatI

hadanexaggeratedsenseofthatverymodestachievement，withwhich，however，luck，opportunity，oranyextraneousinfluencecouldhavehadnothingtodo。Thatfact，satisfactoryandobscureinitself，hadformeacertainidealsignificance。Itwasananswertocertainoutspokenscepticismandeventosomenotverykindaspersions。Ihadvindicatedmyselffromwhathadbeencrieduponasastupidobstinacyorafantasticcaprice。I

don’tmeantosaythatawholecountryhadbeenconvulsedbymydesiretogotosea。Butforaboybetweenfifteenandsixteen，sensitiveenough，inallconscience，thecommotionofhislittleworldhadseemedaveryconsiderablethingindeed。Soconsiderablethat，absurdlyenough，theechoesofitlingertothisday。Icatchmyselfinhoursofsolitudeandretrospectmeetingargumentsandchargesmadethirty-fiveyearsagobyvoicesnowforeverstill;findingthingstosaythatanassailedboycouldnothavefound，simplybecauseofthemysteriousnessofhisimpulsestohimself。Iunderstoodnomorethanthepeoplewhocalleduponmetoexplainmyself。Therewasnoprecedent。I

verilybelieveminewastheonlycaseofaboyofmynationalityandantecedentstakinga，sotospeak，standingjumpoutofhisracialsurroundingsandassociations。Foryoumustunderstandthattherewasnoideaofanysortof"career"inmycall。OfRussiaorGermanytherecouldbenoquestion。Thenationality，theantecedents，madeitimpossible。ThefeelingagainsttheAustrianservicewasnotsostrong，andIdaresaytherewouldhavebeennodifficultyinfindingmywayintotheNavalSchoolatPola。Itwouldhavemeantsixmonths’extragrindingatGerman，perhaps;butIwasnotpasttheageofadmission，andinotherrespectsIwaswellqualified。Thisexpedienttopalliatemyfollywasthoughtof——butnotbyme。Imustadmitthatinthatrespectmynegativewasacceptedatonce。Thatorderoffeelingwascomprehensibleenoughtothemostinimicalofmycritics。Iwasnotcalledupontoofferexplanations;butthetruthisthatwhatIhadinviewwasnotanavalcareer，butthesea。ThereseemednowayopentoitbutthroughFrance。Ihadthelanguage，atanyrate，andofallthecountriesinEuropeitiswithFrancethatPolandhasmostconnection。Thereweresomefacilitiesforhavingmealittlelookedafter，atfirst。

Letterswerebeingwritten，answerswerebeingreceived，arrangementswerebeingmadeformydepartureforMarseilles，whereanexcellentfellowcalledSolary，gotatinaroundaboutfashionthroughvariousFrenchchannels，hadpromisedgood-naturedlytoputlejeunehommeinthewayofgettingadecentshipforhisfirststartifhereallywantedatasteofcemetierdechien。

Iwatchedallthesepreparationsgratefully，andkeptmyowncounsel。ButwhatItoldthelastofmyexaminerswasperfectlytrue。Alreadythedeterminedresolvethat"ifaseaman，thenanEnglishseaman"wasformulatedinmyhead，though，ofcourse，inthePolishlanguage。IdidnotknowsixwordsofEnglish，andI

wasastuteenoughtounderstandthatitwasmuchbettertosaynothingofmypurpose。AsitwasIwasalreadylookeduponaspartlyinsane，atleastbythemoredistantacquaintances。Theprincipalthingwastogetaway。Iputmytrustinthegood-naturedSolary’sverycivillettertomyuncle，thoughIwasshockedalittlebythephraseaboutthemetierdechien。

ThisSolary（Baptistin），whenIbeheldhimintheflesh，turnedoutaquiteyoungman，verygood-looking，withafineblack，shortbeard，afreshcomplexion，andsoft，merryblackeyes。Hewasasjovialandgoodnaturedasanyboycoulddesire。Iwasstillasleepinmyroominamodesthotelnearthequaysoftheoldport，afterthefatiguesofthejourneyviaVienna，Zurich，Lyons，whenheburstin，flingingtheshuttersopentothesunofProvenceandchidingmeboisterouslyforlyingabed。Howpleasantlyhestartledmebyhisnoisyobjurgationstobeupandoffinstantlyfora"threeyears’campaignintheSouthSeas！"O

magicwords！"Unecampagnedetroisansdanslesmersdusud"——thatistheFrenchforathreeyears’deep-watervoyage。

Hegavemeadelightfulwaking，andhisfriendlinesswasunwearied;butIfearhedidnotenteruponthequestforashipformeinaverysolemnspirit。Hehadbeenatseahimself，buthadleftoffattheageoftwenty-five，findinghecouldearnhislivingonshoreinamuchmoreagreeablemanner。HewasrelatedtoanincrediblenumberofMarseilleswell-to-dofamiliesofacertainclass。Oneofhisuncleswasaship-brokerofgoodstanding，withalargeconnectionamongEnglishships;otherrelativesofhisdealtinships’stores，ownedsail-lofts，soldchainsandanchors，weremaster-stevedores，calkers，shipwrights。

Hisgrandfather（Ithink）wasadignitaryofakind，theSyndicofthePilots。Imadeacquaintancesamongthesepeople，butmainlyamongthepilots。TheveryfirstwholedayIeverspentonsaltwaterwasbyinvitation，inabighalf-deckedpilot-boat，cruisingunderclosereefsonthelookout，inmisty，blowingweather，forthesailsofshipsandthesmokeofsteamersrisingoutthere，beyondtheslimandtallPlanierlighthousecuttingthelineofthewind-swepthorizonwithawhiteperpendicularstroke。Theywerehospitablesouls，thesesturdyProvencalseamen。UnderthegeneraldesignationoflepetitamideBaptistinIwasmadetheguestofthecorporationofpilots，andhadthefreedomoftheirboatsnightorday。Andmanyadayandanight，too，didIspendcruisingwiththeserough，kindlymen，underwhoseauspicesmyintimacywiththeseabegan。Manyatime"thelittlefriendofBaptistin"hadthehoodedcloakoftheMediterraneansailorthrownoverhimbytheirhonesthandswhiledodgingatnightundertheleeofChateaudaftonthewatchforthelightsofships。Theirseatannedfaces，whiskeredorshaved，leanorfull，withtheintent，wrinkledseaeyesofthepilotbreed，andhereandthereathingoldhoopatthelobeofahairyear，bentovermyseainfancy。ThefirstoperationofseamanshipIhadanopportunityofobservingwastheboardingofshipsatsea，atalltimes，inallstatesoftheweather。Theygaveittometothefull。AndIhavebeeninvitedtositinmorethanonetall，darkhouseoftheoldtownattheirhospitableboard，hadthebouillabaisseladledoutintoathickplatebytheirhigh-voiced，broad-browedwives，talkedtotheirdaughters——thick-setgirls，withpureprofiles，gloriousmassesofblackhairarrangedwithcomplicatedart，darkeyes，anddazzlinglywhiteteeth。

Ihadalsootheracquaintancesofquiteadifferentsort。Oneofthem，MadameDelestang，animperious，handsomeladyinastatuesquestyle，wouldcarrymeoffnowandthenonthefrontseatofhercarriagetothePrado，atthehouroffashionableairing。Shebelongedtooneoftheoldaristocraticfamiliesinthesouth。InherhaughtywearinesssheusedtomakemethinkofLadyDedlockinDickens’s"BleakHouse，"aworkofthemasterforwhichIhavesuchanadmiration，orrathersuchanintenseandunreasoningaffection，datingfromthedaysofmychildhood，thatitsveryweaknessesaremoreprecioustomethanthestrengthofothermen’swork。Ihavereaditinnumerabletimes，bothinPolishandinEnglish;Ihavereaditonlytheotherday，and，byanotverysurprisinginversion，theLadyDedlockofthebookremindedmestronglyofthe"belleMadameDelestang。"

Herhusband（asIsatfacingthemboth），withhisthin，bonynoseandaperfectlybloodless，narrowphysiognomyclampedtogether，asitwere，byshort，formalsidewhiskers，hadnothingofSirLeicesterDedlock’s"grandair"andcourtlysolemnity。Hebelongedtothehautebourgeoisieonly，andwasabanker，withwhomamodestcredithadbeenopenedformyneeds。Hewassuchanardent——no，suchafrozen-up，mummifiedRoyalistthatheusedincurrentconversationturnsofspeechcontemporary，Ishouldsay，withthegoodHenriQuatre;andwhentalkingofmoneymatters，reckonednotinfrancs，likethecommon，godlessherdofpost-RevolutionaryFrenchmen，butinobsoleteandforgottenecus——ecusofallmoneyunitsintheworld！——asthoughLouisQuatorzewerestillpromenadinginroyalsplendourthegardensofVersailles，andMonsieurdeColbertbusywiththedirectionofmaritimeaffairs。Youmustadmitthatinabankerofthenineteenthcenturyitwasaquaintidiosyncrasy。Luckily，inthecounting-house（itoccupiedpartofthegroundflooroftheDelestangtownresidence，inasilent，shadystreet）theaccountswerekeptinmodernmoney，sothatIneverhadanydifficultyinmakingmywantsknowntothegrave，low-voiced，decorous，Legitimist（Isuppose）clerks，sittingintheperpetualgloomofheavilybarredwindowsbehindthesombre，ancientcounters，beneathloftyceilingswithheavilymoldedcornices。Ialwaysfelt，ongoingout，asthoughIhadbeeninthetempleofsomeverydignifiedbutcompletelytemporalreligion。AnditwasgenerallyontheseoccasionsthatunderthegreatcarriagegatewayLadyDed——ImeanMadameDelestang——catchingsightofmyraisedhat，wouldbeckonmewithanamiableimperiousnesstothesideofthecarriage，andsuggestwithanairofamusednonchalance，"Venezdoncfaireuntouravecnous，"towhichthehusbandwouldaddanencouraging"C’estca。Allons，montez，jeunehomme。"Hequestionedmesometimes，significantlybutwithperfecttactanddelicacy，astothewayIemployedmytime，andneverfailedtoexpressthehopethatIwroteregularlytomy"honoureduncle。"ImadenosecretofthewayIemployedmytime，andIratherfancythatmyartlesstalesofthepilotsandsoonentertainedMadameDelestangsofarasthatineffablewomancouldbeentertainedbytheprattleofayoungsterveryfullofhisnewexperienceamongstrangemenandstrangesensations。Sheexpressednoopinions，andtalkedtomeverylittle;yetherportraithangsinthegalleryofmyintimatememories，fixedtherebyashortandfleetingepisode。Oneday，afterputtingmedownatthecornerofastreet，sheofferedmeherhand，anddetainedme，byaslightpressure，foramoment。Whilethehusbandsatmotionlessandlookingstraightbeforehim，sheleanedforwardinthecarriagetosay，withjustashadeofwarninginherleisurelytone："Ilfaut，cependant，faireattentionanepasgatersavie。"Ihadneverseenherfacesoclosetominebefore。Shemademyheartbeatandcausedmetoremainthoughtfulforawholeevening。Certainlyonemust，afterall，takecarenottospoilone’slife。Butshedidnotknow——

nobodycouldknow——howimpossiblethatdangerseemedtome。

VII

Canthetransportsoffirstlovebecalmed，checked，turnedtoacoldsuspicionofthefuturebyagravequotationfromaworkonpoliticaleconomy？Iask——isitconceivable？Isitpossible？

Woulditberight？Withmyfeetontheveryshoresoftheseaandabouttoembracemyblue-eyeddream，whatcouldagood-naturedwarningastospoilingone’slifemeantomyyouthfulpassion？Itwasthemostunexpectedandthelast，too，ofthemanywarningsIhadreceived。Itsoundedtomeverybizarre——and，utteredasitwasintheverypresenceofmyenchantress，likethevoiceoffolly，thevoiceofignorance。

ButIwasnotsocallousorsostupidasnottorecognizetherealsothevoiceofkindness。Andthenthevaguenessofthewarning——becausewhatcanbethemeaningofthephrase：tospoilone’slife？——arrestedone’sattentionbyitsairofwiseprofundity。Atanyrate，asIhavesaidbefore，thewordsoflabelleMadameDelestangmademethoughtfulforawholeevening。I

triedtounderstandandtriedinvain，nothavinganynotionoflifeasanenterprisethatcouldbemimanaged。ButIleftoffbeingthoughtfulshortlybeforemidnight，atwhichhour，hauntedbynoghostsofthepastandbynovisionsofthefuture，I

walkeddownthequayoftheVieuxPorttojointhepilot-boatofmyfriends。Iknewwhereshewouldbewaitingforhercrew，inthelittlebitofacanalbehindthefortattheentranceoftheharbour。Thedesertedquayslookedverywhiteanddryinthemoonlight，andasiffrostboundinthesharpairofthatDecembernight。Aprowlerortwoslunkbynoiselessly;acustom-houseguard，soldier-like，aswordbyhisside，pacedcloseunderthebowspritsofthelongrowofshipsmooredbowsonoppositethelong，slightlycurved，continuousflatwallofthetallhousesthatseemedtobeoneimmenseabandonedbuildingwithinnumerablewindowsshutteredclosely。Onlyhereandthereasmall，dingycafeforsailorscastayellowgleamonthebluishsheenoftheflagstones。Passingby，oneheardadeepmurmurofvoicesinside——nothingmore。HowquieteverythingwasattheendofthequaysonthelastnightonwhichIwentoutforaservicecruiseasaguestoftheMarseillespilots！Notafootstep，exceptmyown，notasigh，notawhisperingechooftheusualrevelrygoingoninthenarrow，unspeakablelanesoftheOldTownreachedmyear——andsuddenly，withaterrificjinglingrattleofironandglass，theomnibusoftheJollietteonitslastjourneyswungaroundthecornerofthedeadwallwhichfacesacrossthepavedroadthecharacteristicangularmassoftheFortSt。Jean。Threehorsestrottedabreast，withtheclatterofhoofsonthegranitesetts，andtheyellow，uproariousmachinejoltedviolentlybehindthem，fantastic，lightedup，perfectlyempty，andwiththedriverapparentlyasleeponhisswayingperchabovethatamazingracket。

Iflattenedmyselfagainstthewallandgasped。Itwasastunningexperience。Thenafterstaggeringonafewpacesintheshadowofthefort，castingadarknessmoreintensethanthatofacloudednightuponthecanal，Isawthetinylightofalanternstandingonthequay，andbecameawareofmuffledfiguresmakingtowarditfromvariousdirections。PilotsoftheThirdCompanyhasteningtoembark。Toosleepytobetalkative，theysteponboardinsilence。Butafewlowgruntsandanenormousyawnareheard。Somebodyevenejaculates："Ah！Coquindesort！"andsighswearilyathishardfate。

ThepatronoftheThirdCompany（therewerefivecompaniesofpilotsatthattime，Ibelieve）isthebrother-in-lawofmyfriendSolary（Baptistin），abroad-shouldered，deepchestedmanofforty，withakeen，frankglancewhichalwaysseeksyoureyes。

Hegreetsmebyalow，hearty"He，l’ami。Commentva？"Withhisclippedmustacheandmassiveopenface，energeticandatthesametimeplacidinexpression，heisafinespecimenofthesouthernerofthecalmtype。Forthereissuchatypeinwhichthevolatilesouthernpassionistransmutedintosolidforce。Heisfair，butnoonecouldmistakehimforamanofthenorthevenbythedimgleamofthelanternstandingonthequay。HeisworthadozenofyourordinaryNormansorBretons，butthen，inthewholeimmensesweepoftheMediterraneanshores，youcouldnotfindhalfadozenmenofhisstamp。

Standingbythetiller，hepullsouthiswatchfromunderathickjacketandbendshisheadoveritinthelightcastintotheboat。Time’sup。Hispleasantvoicecommands，inaquietundertone，"Larguez。"Asuddenlyprojectedarmsnatchesthelanternoffthequay——and，warpedalongbyalineatfirst，thenwiththeregulartugoffourheavysweepsinthebow，thebighalf-deckedboatfullofmenglidesoutoftheblack，breathlessshadowofthefort。Theopenwateroftheavant-portglittersunderthemoonasifsownoverwithmillionsofsequins，andthelongwhitebreakwatershineslikeathickbarofsolidsilver。

Withaquickrattleofblocksandonesinglesilkyswish，thesailisfilledbyalittlebreezekeenenoughtohavecomestraightdownfromthefrozenmoon，andtheboat，aftertheclatterofthehauled-insweeps，seemstostandatrest，surroundedbyamysteriouswhisperingsofaintandunearthlythatitmaybetherustlingofthebrilliant，overpoweringmoonraysbreakinglikearain-showeruponthehard，smooth，shadowlesssea。

ImaywellrememberthatlastnightspentwiththepilotsoftheThirdCompany。Ihaveknownthespellofmoonlightsince，onvariousseasandcoasts——coastsofforests，ofrocks，ofsanddunes——butnomagicsoperfectinitsrevelationofunsuspectedcharacter，asthoughonewereallowedtolookuponthemysticnatureofmaterialthings。ForhoursIsupposenowordwasspokeninthatboat。Thepilots，seatedintworowsfacingeachother，dozed，withtheirarmsfoldedandtheirchinsrestingupontheirbreasts。Theydisplayedagreatvarietyofcaps：cloth，wool，leather，peaks，ear-flaps，tassels，withapicturesqueroundberetortwopulleddownoverthebrows;andonegrandfather，withashaved，bonyfaceandagreatbeakofanose，hadacloakwithahoodwhichmadehimlookinourmidstlikeacowledmonkbeingcarriedoffgoodnessknowswherebythatsilentcompanyofseamen——quietenoughtobedead。

Myfingersitchedforthetiller，andinduecoursemyfriend，thepatron，surrenderedittomeinthesamespiritinwhichthefamilycoachmanletsaboyholdthereinsonaneasybitofroad。

Therewasagreatsolitudearoundus;theisletsahead，MonteCristoandtheChateaudaftinfulllight，seemedtofloattowardus——sosteady，soimperceptiblewastheprogressofourboat。

"Keepherinthefurrowofthemoon，"thepatrondirectedme，inaquietmurmur，sittingdownponderouslyinthestern-sheetsandreachingforhispipe。

Thepilotstationinweatherlikethiswasonlyamileortwotothewestwardoftheislets;andpresently，asweapproachedthespot，theboatweweregoingtorelieveswamintoourviewsuddenly，onherwayhome，cuttingblackandsinisterintothewakeofthemoonunderasablewing，whiletothemoursailmusthavebeenavisionofwhiteanddazzlingradiance。Withoutalteringthecourseahair’sbreadthweslippedbyeachotherwithinanoar’slength。Adrawling，sardonichailcameoutofher。Instantly，asifbymagic，ourdozingpilotsgotontheirfeetinabody。Anincrediblebabelofbanteringshoutsburstout，ajocular，passionate，volublechatter，whichlastedtilltheboatsweresterntostern，theirsallbrightnow，and，withashiningsailtooureyes，weturnedallblacktotheirvision，anddrewawayfromthemunderasablewing。Thatextraordinaryuproardiedawayalmostassuddenlyasithadbegun;firstonehadenoughofitandsatdown，thenanother，thenthreeorfourtogether;andwhenallhadleftoffwithmuttersandgrowlinghalf-laughsthesoundofheartychucklingbecameaudible，persistent，unnoticed。Thecowledgrandfatherwasverymuchentertainedsomewherewithinhishood。

Hehadnotjoinedintheshoutingofjokes，neitherhadhemovedtheleastbit。Hehadremainedquietlyinhisplaceagainstthefootofthemast。Ihadbeengiventounderstandlongbeforethathehadtheratingofasecond-classableseaman（matelotleger）inthefleetwhichsailedfromToulonfortheconquestofAlgeriaintheyearofgrace1830。And，indeed，Ihadseenandexaminedoneofthebuttonsofhisoldbrown，patchedcoat，theonlybrassbuttonofthemiscellaneouslot，flatandthin，withthewordsEquipagesdeligneengravedonit。Thatsortofbutton，Ibelieve，wentoutwiththelastoftheFrenchBourbons。

"Ipreserveditfromthetimeofmynavyservice，"heexplained，noddingrapidlyhisfrail，vulture-likehead。Itwasnotverylikelythathehadpickedupthatrelicinthestreet。HelookedcertainlyoldenoughtohavefoughtatTrafalgar——or，atanyrate，tohaveplayedhislittlepartthereasapowdermonkey。

ShortlyafterwehadbeenintroducedhehadinformedmeinaFranco-Provencaljargon，mumblingtremulouslywithhistoothlessjaws，thatwhenhewasa"shavernohigherthanthat"hehadseentheEmperorNapoleonreturningfromElba。Itwasatnight，henarratedvaguely，withoutanimation，ataspotbetweenFrejusandAntibes，intheopencountry。Abigfirehadbeenlitatthesideofthecross-roads。Thepopulationfromseveralvillageshadcollectedthere，oldandyoung——downtotheverychildreninarms，becausethewomenhadrefusedtostayathome。Tallsoldierswearinghigh，hairycapsstoodinacircle，facingthepeoplesilently，andtheirsterneyesandbigmustacheswereenoughtomakeeverybodykeepatadistance。He，"beinganimpudentlittleshaver，"wriggledoutofthecrowd，creepingonhishandsandkneesasnearashedaredtothegrenadiers’legs，andpeepingthroughdiscovered，standingperfectlystillinthelightofthefire，"alittlefatfellowinathree-corneredhat，buttonedupinalongstraightcoat，withabig，palefaceinclinedononeshoulder，lookingsomethinglikeapriest。Hishandswereclaspedbehindhisback……ItappearsthatthiswastheEmperor，"theancientcommented，withafaintsigh。Hewasstaringfromthegroundwithallhismight，when"mypoorfather，"whohadbeensearchingforhisboyfranticallyeverywhere，pounceduponhimandhauledhimawaybytheear。

Thetaleseemsanauthenticrecollection。Herelatedittomemanytimes，usingtheverysamewords。Thegrandfatherhonouredmebyaspecialandsomewhatembarrassingpredilection。Extremestouch。Hewastheoldestmemberbyalongwayinthatcompany，andIwas，ifImaysayso，itstemporarilyadoptedbaby。Hehadbeenapilotlongerthananymanintheboatcouldremember;

thirty——fortyyears。Hedidnotseemcertainhimself，butitcouldbefoundout，hesuggested，inthearchivesofthePilot-office。Hehadbeenpensionedoffyearsbefore，buthewentoutfromforceofhabit;and，asmyfriendthepatronofthecompanyonceconfidedtomeinawhisper，"theoldchapdidnoharm。Hewasnotintheway。"Theytreatedhimwithroughdeference。Oneandanotherwouldaddresssomeinsignificantremarktohimnowandagain，butnobodyreallytookanynoticeofwhathehadtosay。Hehadsurvivedhisstrength，hisusefulness，hisverywisdom。Heworelong，green，worstedstockingspulledupabovethekneeoverhistrousers，asortofwoollennightcaponhishairlesscranium，andwoodenclogsonhisfeet。Withouthishoodedcloakhelookedlikeapeasant。Halfadozenhandswouldbeextendedtohelphimonboard，butafterwardhewasleftprettymuchtohisownthoughts。Ofcourseheneverdidanywork，except，perhaps，tocastoffsomeropewhenhailed，"He，l’Ancien！letgothehalyardsthere，atyourhand"——orsomesuchrequestofaneasykind。

Noonetooknoticeinanywayofthechucklingwithintheshadowofthehood。Hekeptitupforalongtimewithintenseenjoyment。Obviouslyhehadpreservedintacttheinnocenceofmindwhichiseasilyamused。Butwhenhishilarityhadexhausteditself，hemadeaprofessionalremarkinaself-assertivebutquaveringvoice：

"Can’texpectmuchworkonanightlikethis。"

Noonetookitup。Itwasameretruism。Nothingundercanvascouldbeexpectedtomakeaportonsuchanidlenightofdreamysplendourandspiritualstillness。Wewouldhavetoglideidlytoandfro，keepingourstationwithintheappointedbearings，and，unlessafreshbreezesprangupwiththedawn，wewouldlandbeforesunriseonasmallisletthat，withintwomilesofus，shonelikealumpoffrozenmoonlight，to"breakacrustandtakeapullatthewinebottle。"Iwasfamiliarwiththeprocedure。

Thestoutboatemptiedofhercrowdwouldnestleherbuoyant，capablesideagainsttheveryrock——suchistheperfectlysmoothamenityoftheclassicseawheninagentlemood。Thecrustbrokenandthemouthfulofwineswallowed——itwasliterallynomorethanthatwiththisabstemiousrace——thepilotswouldpassthetimestampingtheirfeetontheslabsofsea-saltedstoneandblowingintotheirnippedfingers。Oneortwomisanthropistswouldsitapart，perchedonboulderslikemanlikesea-fowlofsolitaryhabits;thesociablydisposedwouldgossipscandalouslyinlittlegesticulatingknots;andtherewouldbeperpetuallyoneoranotherofmyhoststakingaimattheemptyhorizonwiththelong，brasstubeofthetelescope，aheavy，murderous-lookingpieceofcollectiveproperty，everlastinglychanginghandswithbrandishingandlevellingmovements。Thenaboutnoon（itwasashortturnofduty——thelongturnlastedtwenty-fourhours）

anotherboatfulofpilotswouldrelieveus——andweshouldsteerfortheoldPhoenicianport，dominated，watchedoverfromtheridgeofadust-gray，aridhillbythered-and-whitestripedpileoftheNotreDamedelaGarde。

AllthiscametopassasIhadforeseeninthefullnessofmyveryrecentexperience。Butalsosomethingnotforeseenbymedidhappen，somethingwhichcausesmetoremembermylastoutingwiththepilots。Itwasonthisoccasionthatmyhandtouched，forthefirsttime，thesideofanEnglishship。

Nofreshbreezehadcomewiththedawn，onlythesteadylittledraughtgotamorekeenedgeonitastheeasternskybecamebrightandglassywithaclean，colourlesslight。Itwaswhilewewereallashoreontheisletthatasteamerwaspickedupbythetelescope，ablackspecklikeaninsectposedonthehardedgeoftheoffing。Sheemergedrapidlytoherwater-lineandcameonsteadily，aslimhullwithalongstreakofsmokeslantingawayfromtherisingsun。Weembarkedinahurry，andheadedtheboatoutforourprey，butwehardlymovedthreemilesanhour。

Shewasabig，high-classcargo-steamerofatypethatistobemetontheseanomore——blackhull，withlow，whitesuperstructures，powerfullyriggedwiththreemastsandalotofyardsonthefore;twohandsatherenormouswheel——steamsteering-gearwasnotamatterofcourseinthesedays——andwiththemonthebridgethreeothers，bulkyinthickbluejackets，ruddy-faced，muffledup，withpeakcaps——Isupposeallherofficers。ThereareshipsIhavemetmorethanonceandknownwellbysightwhosenamesIhaveforgotten;butthenameofthatshipseenoncesomanyyearsagointheclearflushofacold，palesunriseIhavenotforgotten。HowcouldI——thefirstEnglishshiponwhosesideIeverlaidmyhand！Thename——Ireaditletterbyletteronthebow——wasJamesWestoll。Notveryromantic，youwillsay。Thenameofaveryconsiderable，well-known，anduniversallyrespectedNorthcountryship-owner，I

believe。JamesWestoll！Whatbetternamecouldanhonourablehard-workingshiphave？TometheverygroupingofthelettersisalivewiththeromanticfeelingofherrealityasIsawherfloatingmotionlessandborrowinganidealgracefromtheausterepurityofthelight。

Wewerethenverynearherand，onasuddenimpulse，I

volunteeredtopullbowinthedinghywhichshovedoffatoncetoputthepilotonboardwhileourboat，fannedbythefaintairwhichhadattendedusallthroughthenight，wentonglidinggentlypasttheblack，glisteninglengthoftheship。Afewstrokesbroughtusalongside，anditwasthenthat，fortheveryfirsttimeinmylife，IheardmyselfaddressedinEnglish——thespeechofmysecretchoice，ofmyfuture，oflongfriendships，ofthedeepestaffections，ofhoursoftoilandhoursofease，andofsolitaryhours，too，ofbooksread，ofthoughtspursued，ofrememberedemotions——ofmyverydreams！Andif（afterbeingthusfashionedbyitinthatpartofmewhichcannotdecay）Idarenotclaimitaloudasmyown，then，atanyrate，thespeechofmychildren。Thussmalleventsgrowmemorablebythepassageoftime。AstothequalityoftheaddressitselfIcannotsayitwasverystriking。Tooshortforeloquenceanddevoidofallcharmoftone，itconsistedpreciselyofthethreewords"Lookoutthere！"growledouthuskilyabovemyhead。

Itproceededfromabigfatfellow（hehadanobtrusive，hairydoublechin）inabluewoollenshirtandroomybreechespulledupveryhigh，eventothelevelofhisbreastbone，byapairofbracesquiteexposedtopublicview。Aswherehestoodtherewasnobulwark，butonlyarailandstanchions，Iwasabletotakeinataglancethewholeofhisvoluminouspersonfromhisfeettothehighcrownofhissoftblackhat，whichsatlikeanabsurdflangedconeonhisbighead。Thegrotesqueandmassiveaspectofthatdeckhand（Isupposehewasthat——verylikelythelamp-trimmer）surprisedmeverymuch。Mycourseofreading，ofdreaming，andlongingfortheseahadnotpreparedmeforaseabrotherofthatsort。InevermetagainafigureintheleastlikehisexceptintheillustrationstoMr。W。W。Jacobs’smostentertainingtalesofbargesandcoasters;buttheinspiredtalentofMr。Jacobsforpokingendlessfunatpoor，innocentsailorsinaprosewhich，howeverextravagantinitsfelicitousinvention，isalwaysartisticallyadjustedtoobservedtruth，wasnotyet。PerhapsMr。Jacobshimselfwasnotyet。Ifancythat，atmost，ifhehadmadehisnurselaughitwasaboutallhehadachievedatthatearlydate。

Therefore，Irepeat，otherdisabilitiesapart，Icouldnothavebeenpreparedforthesightofthathuskyoldporpoise。Theobjectofhisconciseaddresswastocallmyattentiontoaropewhichheincontinentlyflungdownformetocatch。Icaughtit，thoughitwasnotreallynecessary，theshiphavingnowayonherbythattime。Theneverythingwentonveryswiftly。Thedinghycamewithaslightbumpagainstthesteamer’sside;thepilot，grabbingfortheropeladder，hadscrambledhalf-wayupbeforeI

knewthatourtaskofboardingwasdone;theharsh，muffledclangingoftheengine-roomtelegraphstruckmyearthroughtheironplate;mycompanioninthedinghywasurgingmeto"shoveoff——pushhard";andwhenIboreagainstthesmoothflankofthefirstEnglishshipIevertouchedinmylife，Ifeltitalreadythrobbingundermyopenpalm。

Herheadswungalittletothewest，pointingtowardtheminiaturelighthouseoftheJolliettebreakwater，farawaythere，hardlydistinguishableagainsttheland。Thedinghydancedasquashy，splashyjiginthewashofthewake;and，turninginmyseat，IfollowedtheJamesWestollwithmyeyes。Beforeshehadgoneinaquarterofamileshehoistedherflag，astheharbourregulationsprescribeforarrivinganddepartingships。Isawitsuddenlyflickerandstreamoutontheflagstaff。TheRedEnsign！Inthepellucid，colourlessatmospherebathingthedrabandgraymassesofthatsouthernland，thelividislets，theseaofpale，glassyblueunderthepale，glassyskyofthatcoldsunrise，itwas，asfarastheeyecouldreach，theonlyspotofardentcolour——flame-like，intense，andpresentlyasminuteasthetinyredsparktheconcentratedreflectionofagreatfirekindlesintheclearheartofaglobeofcrystal。TheRedEnsign——thesymbolic，protecting，warmbitofbuntingflungwideupontheseas，anddestinedforsomanyyearstobetheonlyroofovermyhead。