Название: The Essential W. Somerset Maugham Collection
Автор: W. Somerset Maugham
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Контркультура
isbn: 9781456613907
isbn:
'Good Lord, I quite forgot; I wonder when the dickens I had some food last. These Arabs have been keeping us so confoundedly busy.'
'I don't believe you've had anything to-day. You must be devilish hungry.'
'Now you mention it, I think I am,' answered Alec, cheerfully. 'And thirsty, by Jove! I wouldn't give my thirst for an elephant tusk.'
'And to think there's nothing but tepid water to drink!' Walker exclaimed with a laugh.
'I'll go and tell the boy to bring you some food,' said the doctor. 'It's a rotten game to play tricks with your digestion like that.'
'Stern man, the doctor, isn't he?' said Alec, with twinkling eyes. 'It won't hurt me once in a way, and I shall enjoy it all the more now.'
But when Adamson went to call the boy, Alec stopped him.
'Don't trouble. The poor devil's half dead with exhaustion. I told him he might sleep till I called him. I don't want much, and I can easily get it myself.'
Alec looked about and presently found a tin of meat and some ship biscuits. During the fighting it had been impossible to go out on the search for game, and there was neither variety nor plenty about their larder. Alec placed the food before him, sat down, and began to eat. Walker looked at him.
'Appetising, isn't it?' he said ironically.
'Splendid!'
'No wonder you get on so well with the natives. You have all the instincts of the primeval savage. You take food for the gross and bestial purpose of appeasing your hunger, and I don't believe you have the least appreciation for the delicacies of eating as a fine art.'
'The meat's getting rather mouldy,' answered Alec.
He ate notwithstanding with a good appetite. His thoughts went suddenly to Dick who at the hour which corresponded with that which now passed in Africa, was getting ready for one of the pleasant little dinners at the _Carlton_ upon which he prided himself. And then he thought of the noisy bustle of Piccadilly at night, the carriages and 'buses that streamed to and fro, the crowded pavements, the gaiety of the lights.
'I don't know how we're going to feed everyone to-morrow,' said Walker. 'Things will be going pretty bad if we can't get some grain in from somewhere.'
Alec pushed back his plate.
'I wouldn't worry about to-morrow's dinner if I were you,' he said, with a low laugh.
'Why?' asked Walker.
'Because I think it's ten to one that we shall be as dead as doornails before sunrise.'
The two men stared at him silently. Outside, the wind howled grimly, and the rain swept against the side of the tent.
'Is this one of your little jokes, MacKenzie?' said Walker at last.
'You have often observed that I joke with difficulty.'
'But what's wrong now?' asked the doctor quickly.
Alec looked at him and chuckled quietly.
'You'll neither of you sleep in your beds to-night. Another sell for the mosquitoes, isn't it? I propose to break up the camp and start marching in an hour.'
'I say, it's a bit thick after a day like this,' said Walker. 'We're all so done up that we shan't be able to go a mile.'
'You will have had two hours rest.'
Adamson rose heavily to his feet. He meditated for an appreciable time.
'Some of those fellows who are wounded can't possibly be moved,' he said.
'They must.'
'I won't answer for their lives.'
'We must take the risk. Our only chance is to make a bold dash for it, and we can't leave the wounded here.'
'I suppose there's going to be a deuce of a row,' said Walker.
'There is.'
'Your companions seldom have a chance to complain of the monotony of their existence,' said Walker, grimly. 'What are you going to do now?'
'At this moment I'm going to fill my pipe.'
With a whimsical smile, Alec took his pipe from his pocket, knocked it out on his heel, filled and lit it. The doctor and Walker digested the information he had given them. It was Walker who spoke first.
'I gather from the general amiability of your demeanour that we're in rather a tight place.'
'Tighter than any of your patent-leather boots, my friend.'
Walker moved uncomfortably in his chair. He no longer felt sleepy. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
'Have we any chance of getting through?' he asked gravely.
It seemed to him that Alec paused an unconscionable time before he answered.
'There's always a chance,' he said.
'I suppose we're going to do a bit more fighting?'
'We are.'
Walker yawned loudly.
'Well, at all events there's some comfort in that. If I am going to be done out of my night's rest, I should like to take it out of someone.'
Alec looked at him with approval. That was the frame of mind that pleased him. When he spoke again there was in his voice a peculiar charm that perhaps in part accounted for the power he had over his fellows. It inspired an extraordinary belief in him, so that anyone would have followed him cheerfully to certain death. And though his words were few and bald, he was so unaccustomed to take others into his confidence, that when he did so, ever so little, and in that tone, it seemed that he was putting his hearers under a singular obligation.
'If things turn out all right, we shall come near finishing the job, and there won't be much more slave-trading in this part of Africa.'
'And if things don't turn out all right?'
'Why then, I'm afraid the tea tables of Mayfair will be deprived of your scintillating repartee for ever.'
Walker looked down at the ground. Strange thoughts ran through his head, and when he looked up again, with a shrug of the shoulders, there was a queer look in his eyes.
'Well, I've not had a bad time in my life,' he said slowly. 'I've loved a little, and I've worked and played. I've heard some decent music, I've looked at nice pictures, and I've read some thundering fine books. СКАЧАТЬ