IV.

Lydia did not know when the captain came on board. Once, talking in the

cabin made itself felt through her dreams, but the dense sleep of weary

youth closed over her again, and she did not fairly wake till morning.

Then she thought she heard the crowing of a cock and the cackle of hens,

and fancied herself in her room at home; the illusion passed with

a pang. The ship was moving, with a tug at her side, the violent

respirations of which were mingled with the sound of the swift rush of

the vessels through the water, the noise of feet on the deck, and of

orders hoarsely shouted.

The girl came out into the cabin, where Thomas was already busy with

the breakfast table, and climbed to the deck. It was four o'clock of the

summer's morning; the sun had not yet reddened the east, but the stars

were extinct, or glimmered faint points immeasurably withdrawn in the

vast gray of the sky. At that hour there is a hovering dimness over all,

but the light on things near at hand is wonderfully keen and clear, and

the air has an intense yet delicate freshness that seems to breathe from

the remotest spaces of the universe,--a waft from distances beyond the

sun. On the land the leaves and grass are soaked with dew; the densely

interwoven songs of the birds are like a fabric that you might see and

touch. But here, save for the immediate noises on the ship, which

had already left her anchorage far behind, the shouting of the tug's

escape-pipes, and the huge, swirling gushes from her powerful wheel, a

sort of spectacular silence prevailed, and the sounds were like a part

of this silence. Here and there a small fishing schooner came lagging

slowly in, as if belated, with scarce wind enough to fill her sails; now

and then they met a steamboat, towering white and high, a many-latticed

bulk, with no one to be seen on board but the pilot at his wheel, and a

few sleepy passengers on the forward promenade. The city, so beautiful

and stately from the bay, was dropping, and sinking away behind. They

passed green islands, some of which were fortified: the black guns

looked out over the neatly shaven glacis; the sentinel paced the

rampart.

“Well, well!” shouted Captain Jenness, catching sight of Lydia where she

lingered at the cabin door. “You are an early bird. Glad to see you up!

Hope you rested well! Saw your grandfather off all right, and kept him

from taking the wrong train with my own hand. He's terribly excitable.

Well, I suppose I shall be just so, at his age. Here!” The captain

caught up a stool and set it near the bulwark for her. “There! You make

yourself comfortable wherever you like. You're at home, you know.” He

was off again in a moment. Lydia cast her eye over at the tug. On the

deck, near the pilot-house, stood the young man who had stopped the

afternoon before, while she sat at the warehouse door, and asked her

grandfather if she were not ill. At his feet was a substantial valise,

and over his arm hung a shawl. He was smoking, and seated near him, on

another valise, was his companion of the day before, also smoking. In

the instant that Lydia caught sight of them, she perceived that they

both recognized her and exchanged, as it were, a start of surprise. But

they remained as before, except that he who was seated drew out a fresh

cigarette, and without looking up reached to the other for a light. They

were both men of good height, and they looked fresh and strong, with

something very alert in their slight movements,--sudden turns of the

head and brisk nods, which were not nervously quick. Lydia wondered at

their presence there in an ignorance which could not even conjecture.

She knew too little to know that they could not have any destination on

the tug, and that they would not be making a pleasure-excursion at that

hour in the morning. Their having their valises with them deepened the

mystery, which was not solved till the tug's engines fell silent, and at

an unnoticed order a space in the bulwark not far from Lydia was opened

and steps were let down the side of the ship. Then the young men, who

had remained, to all appearance, perfectly unconcerned, caught up their

valises and climbed to the deck of the Aroostook. They did not give her

more than a glance out of the corners of their eyes, but the surprise of

their coming on board was so great a shock that she did not observe that

the tug, casting loose from the ship, was describing a curt and foamy

semicircle for her return to the city, and that the Aroostook, with a

cloud of snowy canvas filling overhead, was moving over the level sea

with the light ease of a bird that half swims, half flies, along

the water. A sudden dismay, which was somehow not fear so much as an

overpowering sense of isolation, fell upon the girl. She caught at

Thomas, going forward with some dishes in his hand, with a pathetic

appeal.

“Where are you going, Thomas?”

“I'm going to the cook's galley to help dish up the breakfast.”

“What's the cook's galley?”

“Don't you know? The kitchen.”

“Let me go with you. I should like to see the kitchen.” She trembled

with eagerness. Arrived at the door of the narrow passage that ran

across the deck aft of the forecastle, she looked in and saw, amid

a haze of frying and broiling, the short, stocky figure of a negro,

bow-legged, and unnaturally erect from the waist up. At sight of Lydia,

he made a respectful duck forward with his uncouth body. “Why, are you

the cook?” she almost screamed in response to this obeisance.

“Yes, miss,” said the man, humbly, with a turn of the pleading black

eyes of the negro.

Lydia grew more peremptory: “Why--why--I thought the cook was a woman!”

“Very sorry, miss,” began the negro, with a deprecatory smile, in a

slow, mild voice.

Thomas burst into a boy's yelling laugh: “Well, if that ain't the best

joke on Gabriel! He'll never hear the last of it when I tell it to the

second officer!”

“Thomas!” cried Lydia, terribly, “you shall _not_!” She stamped her

foot. “Do you hear me?”

The boy checked his laugh abruptly. “Yes, ma'am,” he said submissively.

“Well, then!” returned Lydia. She stalked proudly back to the cabin

gangway, and descending shut herself into her state-room.

The Lady of the Aroostook · 第 7 / 32 题