首页 >出版文学> The Works of Rudyard Kipling One>第34章
  “Ye-es,butwhat’stheuseofshowingit?It’sonlyalotofscratchesAllthesame,wemighthave’emreproducedinthebookonthefrontpage。”
  “I’llattendtothosedetailsShowmewhatyourmenwrote。”
  Hepulledoutofhispocketasheetofnote-paper,withasinglelineofscratchesuponit,andIputthiscarefullyaway。
  “WhatisitsupposedtomeaninEnglish?”Isaid。
  “Oh,Idon’tknowPerhapsitmeans’I’mbeastlytired。’It’sgreatnonsence。”herepeated,“butallthosemenintheshipseemasrealpeopletomeDodosomethingtothenotionsoon;Ishouldliketoseeitwrittenandprinted。”
  “Butallyou’vetoldmewouldmakealongbook。”
  “MakeitthenYou’veonlytositdownandwriteitout。”
  “GivemealittletimeHaveyouanymorenotions?”
  “NotjustnowI’mreadingallthebooksI’veboughtThey’resplendid。”
  WhenhehadleftIlookedatthesheetofnote-paperwiththeinscriptionuponitThenItookmyheadtenderlybetweenbothhands,tomakecertainthatitwasnotcomingofforturninground。
  ThenbutthereseemedtobenointervalbetweenquittingmyroomsandfindingmyselfarguingwithapolicemanoutsideadoormarkedPrivateinacorridoroftheBritishMuseumAllI
  demanded,aspolitelyaspossible,was“theGreekantiquityman。”
  ThepolicemanknewnothingexcepttherulesoftheMuseum,anditbecamenecessarytoforagethroughallthehousesandofficesinsidethegatesAnelderlygentlemancalledawayfromhislunchputanendtomysearchbyholdingthenote-paperbetweenfingerandthumbandsniffingatitscornfully。
  “Whatdoesthismean?H’mm。”saidhe“SofarasIcanascertainitisanattempttowriteextremelycorruptGreekonthepart“-hereheglaredatmewithintention-“ofanextremelyilliterate-ah-
  person。”Hereadslowlyfromthepaper,“Pollock,Erckman,Tauchnitz,Henniker“-fournamesfamiliartome。
  “Canyoutellmewhatthecorruptionissupposedtomean-thegistofthething?”Iasked。
  “Ihavebeen-manytimes-overcomewithwearinessinthisparticularemploymentThatisthemeaning。”Hereturnedmethepaper,andIfledwithoutawordofthanks,explanation,orapology。
  ImighthavebeenexcusedforforgettingmuchTomeofallmenhadbeengiventhechancetowritethemostmarveloustaleintheworld,nothinglessthanthestoryofaGreekgalley-slave,astoldbyhimselfSmallwonderthathisdreaminghadseemedrealtoCharlieTheFatesthataresocarefultoshutthedoorsofeachsuccessivelifebehindushad,inthiscase,beenneglectful,andCharliewaslooking,thoughthathedidnotknow,wherenevermanhadbeenpermittedtolookwithfullknowledgesinceTimebeganAboveallhewasabsolutelyignorantoftheknowledgesoldtomeforfivepounds;andhewouldretainthatignorance,forbank-clerksdonotunderstandmetempsychosis,andasoundcommercialeducationdoesnotincludeGreekHewouldsupplym~hereIcaperedamongthedumbgodsofEgyptandlaughedintheirbatteredfaces-withmaterialtomakemytalesur~sosurethattheworldwouldhailitasanimpudentandvampedfict~onAndI-Ialonewouldknowthatitwasabsolutelyandliterallytrue1,-I
  aloneheldthisjeweltomyhandforthecuttingandpolishing。
  ThereforeIdancedagainamongthegodstillapolicemansawmeandtookstepsinmydirection。
  ItremainednowonlytoencourageCharlietotalk,andheretherewasnodifficultyButIhadforgottenthoseaccursedbooksofpoetryHecametometimeaftertime,asuselessasasurchargedphonograph-drunkonByron,Shelley,orKeatsKnowingnowwhattheboyhadbeeninhispastlives,anddesperatelyanxiousnottoloseonewordofhisbabble,IcouldnothidefromhimmyrespectandinterestHemisconstruedbothintorespectforthepresentsoulofCharlieMears,towhomlifewasasnewasitwastoAdam,andinterestinhisreadings;andstretchedmypatiencetobreakingpointbyrecitingpoetry-nothisownnow,butthatofothersIwishedeveryEnglishpoetblottedoutofthememoryofmankindIblasphemedthemightiestnamesofsongbecausetheyhaddrawnCharliefromthepathofdirectnarrative,andwould,later,spurhimtoimitatethem;butIchokeddownmyimpatienceuntilthefirstfloodofenthusiasmshouldhavespentitselfandtheboyreturnedtohisdreams。
  “What’stheuseofmytellingyouwhatIthink,whenthesechapswrotethingsfortheangelstoread?”hegrowled,oneevening。
  “Whydon’tyouwritesomethingliketheirs?”
  “Idon’tthinkyou’retreatingmequitefairly。”Isaid,speakingunderstrongrestraint。
  “I’vegivenyouthestory。”hesaid,shortlyreplunginginto“Lara。”
  “ButIwantthedetails。”
  “ThethingsImakeupaboutthatdamnedshipthatyoucallagalley?They’requiteeasyYoucanjustmakeemupyourselfTurnupthegasalittle,Iwanttogoonreading。”
  IcouldhavebrokenthegasglobeoverhisheadforhisamazingstupidityIcouldindeedmakeupthingsformyselfdidIonlyknowwhatCharliedidnotknowthatheknewButsincethedoorswereshutbehindmeIcouldonlywaithisyouthfulpleasureandstrivetokeephimingoodtemperOneminute’swantofguardmightspoilapricelessrevelation:nowandagainhewouldtosshisbooksaside-hekepttheminmyrooms,forhismotherwouldhavebeenshockedatthewasteofgoodmoneyhadsheseenthem-andlaunchedintohisseadreamsAgainIcursedallthepoetsofEnglandTheplasticmindofthebank-clerkhadbeenoverlaid,coloredanddistortedbythatwhichhehadread,andtheresultasdeliveredwasaconfusedtangleofothervoicesmostlikethemutteredsongthroughaCitytelephoneinthebusiestpartoftheday。
  Hetalkedofthegalley-hisowngalleyhadhebutknownit-withillustrationsborrowedfromthe“BrideofAbydos。”Hepointedtheexperiencesofhisherowithquotationsfrom“TheCorsair。”andthrewindeepanddesperatemoralreflectionsfrom“Cain“and“Manfred。”expectingmetousethemallOnlywhenthetalkturnedonLongfellowwerethejarringcross-currentsdumb,andI
  knewthatCharliewasspeakingthetruthasherememberedit。
  “Whatdoyouthinkofthis?”Isaidoneevening,assoonasI
  understoodthemediuminwhichhismemoryworkedbest,and,beforehecouldexpostulatereadhimthewholeof“TheSagofKingOlaf!”
  Helistenedopen-mouthed,flushedhishandsdrummingonthebackofthesofawherehelay,tillIcametotheSongsofEmarTamberskelverandtheverse:
  “Emarthen,thearrowtakingFromtheloosenedstring,Answered:’ThatwasNorwaybreaking’Neaththyhand,OKing。’“
  Hegaspedwithpuredelightofsound。
  “That’sbetterthanByron,alittle。”Iventured。
  “Better?Whyit’strue!Howcouldhehaveknown?”
  Iwentbackandrepeated:
  “’Whatwasthat?’saidOlaf,standingOnthequarter-deck,’SomethingheardIlikethestrandingOfashatteredwreck。’“
  “Howcouldhehaveknownhowtheshipscrashandtheoarsripoutandgoz-zzpallalongtheline?Whyonlytheothernight。
  Butgobackpleaseandread’TheSkerryofShrieks’again。”
  “No,I’mtiredLet’stalkWhathappenedtheothernight?”
  “IhadanawfulnightmareaboutthatgalleyofoursIdreamedI
  wasdrownedinafightYouseeweranalongsideanothershipinharborThewaterwasdeadstillexceptwhereouroarswhippeditupYouknowwhereIalwayssitinthegalley?”Hespokehaltinglyatfirst,underafineEnglishfearofbeinglaughedat。
  “NoThat’snewstome。”Ianswered,meekly,myheartbeginningtobeat。
  “OnthefourthoarfromthebowontherightsideontheupperdeckTherewerefourofusattheoar,allchainedIrememberwatchingthewaterandtryingtogetmyhandcuffsoffbeforetherowbeganThenweclosedupontheothership,andalltheirfightingmenjumpedoverourbulwarks,andmybenchbrokeandI
  waspinneddownwiththethreeotherfellowsontopofme,andthebigoarjammedacrossourbacks。”
  “Well?”Charlie’seyeswerealiveandalightHewaslookingatthewallbehindmychair。
  “Idon’tknowhowwefoughtThemenweretramplingallovermyback,andIlaylowThenourrowersontheleftside-tiedtotheiroars,youknow-begantoyellandbackwaterIcouldhearthewatersizzle,andwespunroundlikeacockchaferandIknew,lyingwhereIwas,thattherewasagalleycomingupbow-on,toramusontheleftsideIcouldjustliftupmyheadandseehersailoverthebulwarksWewantedtomeetherbowtobow,butitwastoolateWecouldonlyturnalittlebitbecausethegalleyonourrighthadhookedherselfontousandstoppedourmovingThen,bygum!therewasacrash!Ourleftoarsbegantobreakastheothergalley,themovingoney’know,stuckhernoseintothem。
  Thenthelower-deckoarsshotupthroughthedeck-planking,butfirst,andoneofthemjumpedcleanupintotheairandcamedownagainclosetomyhead。”
  “Howwasthatmanaged?”
  “Themovinggalley’sbowwasplunkingthembackthroughtheirownoarholes,andIcouldhearthedevilofashindyinthedecksbelowThenhernosecaughtusnearlyinthemiddle,andwetiltedsideways,andthefellowsintheright-handgalleyunhitchedtheirhooksandropes,andthrewthingsontoourupperdeck-arrows,andhotpitchorsomethingthatstung,andwewentupandupandupontheleftside,andtherightsidedipped,andItwistedmyheadroundandsawthewaterstandstillasittoppedtherightbulwarks,andthenitcurledoverandcrasheddownonthewholelotofusontherightside,andIfeltithitmyback,andIwoke。”
  “Oneminute,CharlieWhentheseatoppedthebulwarks,whatdiditlooklike?”IhadmyreasonsforaskingAmanofmyacquaintancehadoncegonedownwithaleakingshipinastillsea,andhadseenthewater-levelpauseforaninstantereitfellonthedeck。
  “Itlookedjustlikeabanjo-stringdrawntight,anditseemedtostaythereforyears。”saidCharlie。
  Exactly!Theothermanhadsaid:
  “Itlookedlikeasilverwirelaiddownalongthebulwarks,andI
  thoughtitwasnevergoingtobreak。”Hehadpaideverythingexceptthebarelifeforthislittlevaluelesspieceofknowledge,andIhadtraveledtenthousandwearymilestomeethimandtakehisknowledgeatsecondhandButCharlie,thebank-clerk,ontwenty-fiveshillingsaweek,hewhobadneverbeenoutofsightofaLondonomnibus,knewitallItwasnoconsolationtomethatonceinhisliveshehadbeenforcedtodieforhisgainsIalsomusthavediedscoresoftimes,buthebiname,becauseIcouldhaveusedmyknowledge,thedoorswereshut。
  “Andthen?”Isaid,tryingtoputawaythedevilofenvy。
  “Thefunnythingwas,though,inallthemessIdidn’tfeelabitastonishedorfrightenedItseemedasifI’dbeeninagoodmanyfights,becauseItoldmynextmansowhentherowbeganButthatcadofanoverseeronmydeckwouldn’tunlooseourchainsandgiveusachanceHealwayssaidthatwe’dallhesetfreeafterabattle,butweneverwere;Weneverwere。”Charlieshookhisheadmournfully。
  “Whatascoundrel!”
  “IshouldsayhewasHenevergaveusenoughtoeat,andsometimesweweresothirstythatweusedtodrinksalt-waterI
  cantastethatsalt-waterstill。’’
  “Nowtellmesomethingabouttheharborwherethefightwasfought。”
  “Ididn’tdreamaboutthatIknowitwasaharbor,though;becabseweweretieduptoaringonawhitewallandallthefaceofthestoneunderwaterwascoveredwithwoodtopreventourramgettingchippedwhenthetidemadeusrock。”
  “That’scuriousOurherocommandedthegalley?Didn’the?”
  “Didn’thejust!Hestoodbythebowsandshoutedlikeagood’un。
  Hewasthemanwhokilledtheoverseer。”
  “Butyouwerealldrownedtogether,Charlie,weren’tyou?”
  “Ican’tmakethatfitquite。”hesaidwithapuzzledlook“ThegalleymusthavegonedownwithallhandsandyetIfancythattheherowentonlivingafterwardPerhapsheclimbedintotheattackingshipIwouldn’tseethat,ofcourseIwasdead,youknow。”
  Heshiveredslightlyandprotestedthathecouldremembernomore。
  Ididnotpresshimfurther,buttosatisfymyselfthathelayinignoranceoftheworkingsofhisownmind,deliberatelyintroducedhimtoMortimerCollins’s“Transmigration。”andgavehimasketchoftheplotbeforeheopenedthepages。
  “Whatrotitallis!”hesaid,frankly,attheendofanhour“Idon’tunderstandhisnonsenseabouttheRedPlanetMarsandtheKing,andtherestofitChuckmetheLongfellowagain。”
  IhandedhimthebookandwroteoutasmuchasIcouldrememberofhisdescriptionofthesea-fight,appealingtohimfromtimetotimeforconfirmationoffactordetailHewouldanswerwithoutraisinghiseyesfromthebook,asassuredlyasthoughallhisknowledgelaybeforeflintontheprintedpageIspokeunderthenormalkeyofmyvoicethatthecurrentmightnotbebroken,andI。