"Conrad, Joseph - Twixt Land And Sea Tales" - читать интересную книгу автора (Conrad Joseph)

shore waiting to speak to you, sir."

This statement was curiously slurred over. I dragged the shirt
violently over my head and emerged staring.

"So early!" I cried. "Who's he? What does he want?"

On coming in from sea one has to pick up the conditions of an
utterly unrelated existence. Every little event at first has the
peculiar emphasis of novelty. I was greatly surprised by that
early caller; but there was no reason for my steward to look so
particularly foolish.

"Didn't you ask for the name?" I inquired in a stern tone.

"His name's Jacobus, I believe," he mumbled shamefacedly.

"Mr. Jacobus!" I exclaimed loudly, more surprised than ever, but
with a total change of feeling. "Why couldn't you say so at once?"

But the fellow had scuttled out of my room. Through the
momentarily opened door I had a glimpse of a tall, stout man
standing in the cuddy by the table on which the cloth was already
laid; a "harbour" table-cloth, stainless and dazzlingly white. So
far good.

I shouted courteously through the closed door, that I was dressing
and would be with him in a moment. In return the assurance that
there was no hurry reached me in the visitor's deep, quiet
undertone. His time was my own. He dared say I would give him a
cup of coffee presently.

"I am afraid you will have a poor breakfast," I cried
apologetically. "We have been sixty-one days at sea, you know."

A quiet little laugh, with a "That'll be all right, Captain," was
his answer. All this, words, intonation, the glimpsed attitude of
the man in the cuddy, had an unexpected character, a something
friendly in it - propitiatory. And my surprise was not diminished
thereby. What did this call mean? Was it the sign of some dark
design against my commercial innocence?

Ah! These commercial interests - spoiling the finest life under
the sun. Why must the sea be used for trade - and for war as well?
Why kill and traffic on it, pursuing selfish aims of no great
importance after all? It would have been so much nicer just to
sail about with here and there a port and a bit of land to stretch
one's legs on, buy a few books and get a change of cooking for a
while. But, living in a world more or less homicidal and
desperately mercantile, it was plainly my duty to make the best of