Rudyard Kipling : The Complete Novels and Stories. Редьярд Джозеф Киплинг

Чтение книги онлайн.

      dressing-down on the ‘we’re here.’

      There was a general sorting out among the fleet next day; and though no one said anything, all ate with better appetites when boat after boat reported full crews aboard. Only a couple of Portuguese and an old man from Gloucester were drowned, but many were cut or bruised; and two schooners had parted their tackle and been blown to the southward, three days’ sail. A man died on a Frenchman—it was the same bark that had traded tobacco with the We’re Heres. She slipped away quite quietly one wet, white morning, moved to a patch of deep water, her sails all hanging anyhow, and Harvey saw the funeral through Disko’s spy-glass. It was only an oblong bundle slid overside. They did not seem to have any form of service, but in the night, at anchor, Harvey heard them across the star-powdered black water singing something that sounded like a hymn. It went to a very slow tune:

      ‘La brigantine

      Qui va tourner,

      Roule et s’incline

      Pour m’entrainer.

      Oh, Vierge Marie,

      Pour moi priez Dieu!

      Adieu, patrie;

      Québec, adieu!’

      Tom Platt visited her, because, he said, the dead man was his brother as a Freemason. It came out that a wave had doubled the poor fellow over the heel of the bowsprit and broken his back. The news spread like a flash, for, contrary to general custom, the Frenchman held an auction of the dead man’s kit,—he had no friends at St. Malo or Miquelon,—and everything was spread out on the top of the house, from his red knitted cap to the leather belt with the sheath-knife at the back. Dan and Harvey were out on twenty-fathom water in the Hattie S., and naturally rowed over to join the crowd. It was a long pull, and they stayed some little time while Dan bought the knife, which had a curious brass handle. When they dropped overside and pushed off into a drizzle of rain and a lop of sea, it occurred to them that they might get into trouble for neglecting the lines.

      ‘Guess ’twon’t hurt us any to be warmed up,’ said Dan, shivering under his oilskins, and they rowed on into the heart of a white fog which, as usual, dropped on them without warning.

      ‘There’s too much blame tide hereabouts to trust to your instinks,’ he said. ‘Heave over the anchor, Harve, and we’ll fish a piece till the thing lifts. Bend on your biggest lead. Three pound ain’t any too much in this water. See how she’s tightened on her rodin’ already.’

      There was quite a little bubble at the bows, where some irresponsible Bank current held the dory full stretch on her rope; but they could not see a boat’s length in any direction. Harvey turned up his collar and bunched himself over his reel with the air of a wearied navigator. Fog had no special terrors for him now. They fished a while in silence, and found the cod struck on well. Then Dan drew the sheath-knife and tested the edge of it on the gunwale.

      ‘That’s a daisy,’ said Harvey. ‘How did you get it so cheap?’

      ‘On account o’ their blame Cath’lic superstitions,’ said Dan, jabbing with the bright blade. ‘They don’t fancy takin’ iron frum off of a dead man, so to speak. See them Arichat Frenchmen step back when I bid?’

      ‘But an auction ain’t taking anything off a dead man. It’s business.’

      ‘We know it ain’t, but there’s no goin’ in the teeth o’ superstition. That’s one o’ the advantages o’ livin’ in a progressive country.’ And Dan began whistling:

      ‘Oh, Double Thatcher, how are you?

      Now Eastern Point comes inter view.

      The girls an’ boys we soon shall see,

      At anchor off Cape Ann!’

      ‘Why didn’t that Eastport man bid, then? He bought his boots. Ain’t Maine progressive?’

      ‘Maine? Pshaw! They don’t know enough, or they hain’t got money enough, to paint their haouses in Maine. I’ve seen ’em. The Eastport man he told me that the knife had been used—so the French captain told him—used up on the French coast last year.’

      ‘Cut a man? Heave’s the muckle.’ Harvey hauled in his fish, rebaited, and threw over.

      ‘Killed him! Course, when I heard that I was keener’n ever to get it.’

      ‘Christmas! I didn’t know it,’ said Harvey, turning round. ‘I’ll give you a dollar for it when I—get my wages. Say, I’ll give you two dollars.’

      ‘Honest? D’you like it as much as all that?’ said Dan, flushing. ‘Well, to tell the truth, I kinder got it for you—to give; but I didn’t let on till I saw how you’d take it. It’s yours and welcome, Harve, because we’re dory-mates, and so on and so forth, an’ so followin’. Catch a-holt!’

      He held it out, belt and all.

      ‘But look at here. Dan, I don’t see——’

      ‘Take it. ’Tain’t no use to me. I wish you to hev it.’

      The СКАЧАТЬ