"Robertson, Morgan - Futility" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robertson Morgan)

The young woman had been equally affected by the meeting. An expression of mingled surprise and terror had come to her pretty, but rather weak face;
and without acknowledging his half-salute, she had caught up a little child from the deck behind her, and turning into the saloon door, hurried to the
library, where she sank into a chair beside a military-looking gentleman, who glanced up from a book and remarked: "Seen the sea-serpent, Myra, or the
Flying Dutchman? What's up?"

"Oh, George --- no," she answered in agitated tones. "John Rowland is here --- Lieutenant Rowland. I've just seen him --- he is so changed --- he tried
to speak to me."

"Who --- that troublesome flame of yours? I never met him, you know, and you haven't told me much about him. What is he --- first cabin?"

" No, he seems to be a common sailor; he is working, and is dressed in old clothes --- all dirty. And such a dissipated face, too. He seems to have
fallen --- so low. And it is all since ---"

"Since you soured on him? Well, it is no fault of yours, dear. If a man has it in him he'll go to the dogs anyhow. How is his sense of injury? Has
he a grievance or a grudge? You're badly upset. What did he say?"

"I don't know --- he said nothing --- I've always been afraid of him. I've met him three times since then, and he puts such a frightful look in his
eyes --- and he was so violent, and headstrong, and so terribly angry, --- that time. He accused me of leading him on, and playing with him; and he said
something about an immutable law of chance, and a governing balance of events --- that I couldn't understand, only where he said that for all the suffering
we inflict on others, we receive an equal amount ourselves. Then he went away --- in such a passion. I've imagined ever since that he would take some revenge
--- he might steal our Myra --- our baby." She strained the smiling child to her breast and went on. "I liked him at first, until I found out that he was
an atheist --- why, George, he actually denied the existence of God --- and to me, a professing Christian."

"He had a wonderful nerve," said the husband, with a smile; "didn't know you very well, I should say."

"He never seemed the same to me after that," she resumed; "I felt as though in the presence of something unclean. Yet I thought how glorious it would
be if I could save him to God, and tried to convince him of the loving care of Jesus; but he only ridiculed all I hold sacred, and said, that much as he
valued my good opinion, he would not be a hypocrite to gain it, and that he would be honest with himself and others, and express his honest unbelief ---
the idea; as though one could be honest without God's help --- and then, one day, I smelled liquor on his breath --- he always smelled of tobacco --- and
I gave him up. It was then that he that he broke out."

"Come out and show me this reprobate," said the husband, rising. They went to the door and the young woman peered out. "He is the last man down there
--- close to the cabin," she said as she drew in. The husband stepped out.

"What! that hang-dog ruffian, scouring the ventilator? So, that's Rowland, of the navy, is it! Well, this is a tumble. Wasn't he broken for conduct
unbecoming an officer? Got roaring drunk at the President's levee, didn't he? I think I read of it."

"I know he lost his position and was terribly disgraced," answered the wife.

"Well, Myra, the poor devil is harmless now. We'll be across in a few days, and you needn't meet him on this broad deck. If he hasn't lost all sensibility,
he's as embarrassed as you. Better stay in now --- it's getting foggy."

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