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

"Go on deck, now, Rowland," he said; "I will talk with you again before we reach soundings. Meanwhile, I request --- not require, but request --- that
you hold no useless conversation with your shipmates in regard to this matter."

To this first officer, when relieved at eight bells, the captain said: "He is a broken-down wreck with a temporarily active conscience; but is not
the man to buy or intimidate: he knows too much. However, we've found his weak point. If he gets snakes before we dock, his testimony is worthless. Fill
him up and I'll see the surgeon, and study up on drugs."

When Rowland turned out to breakfast at seven bells that morning, he found a pint flask in the pocket of his pea-jacket, which he felt of but did not
pull out in sight of his watchmates.

"Well, captain," he thought, "you are, in truth, about as puerile, insipid a scoundrel as ever escaped the law. I'll save you your drugged Dutch courage
for evidence." But it was not drugged, as he learned later. It was good whisky --- a leader --- to warm his stomach while the captain was studying.

Chapter:
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VII
VIII
IX
X
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XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI

Chapter Five

A

N incident occurred that morning which drew Rowland's thoughts far from the happenings of the night. A few hours of bright sunshine had brought the passengers
on deck like bees from a hive, and the two broad promenades resembled, in color and life, the streets of a city. The watch was busy at the inevitable scrubbing,
and Rowland, with a swab and bucket, was cleaning the white paint on the starboard taffrail, screened from view by the after deck-house, which shut off
a narrow space at the stern. A little girl ran into the enclosure, laughing and screaming, and clung to his legs, while she jumped up and down in an overflow
of spirits.

"I wunned 'way," she said; "I wunned 'way from mamma."

Drying his wet bands on his trousers, Rowland lifted the tot and said, tenderly: "Well, little one, you must run back to mamma. You're in bad company."
The innocent eyes smiled into his own, and then --- a foolish proceeding, which only bachelors are guilty of --- he held her above the rail in jesting
menace. "Shall I drop you over to the fishes, baby?" he asked, while his features softened to an unwonted smile. The child gave a little scream of fright,
and at that instant a young woman appeared around the corner. She sprang toward Rowland like a tigress, snatched the child, stared at him for a moment
with dilated eyes, and then disappeared, leaving him limp and nerveless, breathing hard.

"It is her child," he groaned. "That was the mother-look. She is married --- married." He resumed his work, with a face as near the color of the paint