VI
Thirty-six hours later Carter, alone with Lingard in the cabin of thebrig, could almost feel during a pause in his talk the oppressive, thebreathless peace of the Shallows awaiting another sunset.
"I never expected to see any of you alive," Carter began in his easytone, but with much less carelessness in his bearing as though his daysof responsibility amongst the Shoals of the Shore of Refuge had maturedhis view of the external world and of his own place therein.
"Of course not," muttered Lingard.
The listlessness of that man whom he had always seen acting underthe stress of a secret passion seemed perfectly appalling to Carter'syouthful and deliberate energy. Ever since he had found himselfagain face to face with Lingard he had tried to conceal the shockingimpression with a delicacy which owed nothing to training but was asintuitive as a child's.
While justifying to Lingard his manner of dealing with the situationon the Shore of Refuge, he could not for the life of him help askinghimself what was this new mystery. He was also young enough to long fora word of commendation.
"Come, Captain," he argued; "how would you have liked to come out andfind nothing but two half-burnt wrecks stuck on the sands--perhaps?"
He waited for a moment, then in sheer compassion turned away his eyesfrom that fixed gaze, from that harassed face with sunk cheeks, fromthat figure of indomitable strength robbed of its fire. He said tohimself: "He doesn't hear me," and raised his voice without altering itsself-contained tone:
"I was below yesterday morning when we felt the shock, but the noisecame to us only as a deep rumble. I made one jump for the companion butthat precious Shaw was before me yelling, 'Earthquake! Earthquake!' andI am hanged if he didn't miss his footing and land down on his head atthe bottom of the stairs. I had to stop to pick him up but I got on deckin time to see a mighty black cloud that seemed almost solid pop up frombehind the forest like a balloon. It stayed there for quite a long time.Some of our Calashes on deck swore to me that they had seen a red flashabove the tree-tops. But that's hard to believe. I guessed at once thatsomething had blown up on shore. My first thought was that I would neversee you any more and I made up my mind at once to find out all the truthyou have been keeping away from me. No, sir! Don't you make a mistake! Iwasn't going to give you up, dead or alive."
He looked hard at Lingard while saying these words and saw the firstsign of animation pass over that ravaged face. He saw even its lips moveslightly; but there was no sound, and Carter looked away again.
"Perhaps you would have done better by telling me everything; but youleft me behind on my own to be your man here. I put my hand to thework I could see before me. I am a sailor. There were two ships to lookafter. And here they are both for you, fit to go or to stay, to fight orto run, as you choose." He watched with bated breath the effort Lingardhad to make to utter the two words of the desired commendation:
"Well done!"
"And I am your man still," Carter added, impulsively, and hastened tolook away from Lingard, who had tried to smile at him and had failed.Carter didn't know what to do next, remain in the cabin or leave thatunsupported strong man to himself. With a shyness completely foreign tohis character and which he could not understand himself, he suggestedin an engaging murmur and with an embarrassed assumption of his right togive advice:
"Why not lie down for a bit, sir? I can attend to anything that may turnup. You seem done up, sir."
He was facing Lingard, who stood on the other side of the table in aleaning forward attitude propped up on rigid arms and stared fixedly athim--perhaps? Carter felt on the verge of despair. This couldn't last.He was relieved to see Lingard shake his head slightly.
"No, Mr. Carter. I think I will go on deck," said the Captain of thefamous brig Lightning, while his eyes roamed all over the cabin. Carterstood aside at once, but it was some little time before Lingard made amove.
The sun had sunk already, leaving that evening no trace of its glory ona sky clear as crystal and on the waters without a ripple. All colourseemed to have gone out of the world. The oncoming shadow rose as subtleas a perfume from the black coast lying athwart the eastern semicircle;and such was the silence within the horizon that one might have fanciedoneself come to the end of time. Black and toylike in the clear depthsand the final stillness of the evening the brig and the schooner layanchored in the middle of the main channel with their heads swung thesame way. Lingard, with his chin on his breast and his arms folded,moved slowly here and there about the poop. Close and mute like hisshadow, Carter, at his elbow, followed his movements. He felt an anxioussolicitude. . . .
It was a sentiment perfectly new to him. He had never before felt thissort of solicitude about himself or any other man. His personality wasbeing developed by new experience, and as he was very simple he receivedthe initiation with shyness and self-mistrust. He had noticed withinnocent alarm that Lingard had not looked either at the sky or overthe sea, neither at his own ship nor the schooner astern; not along thedecks, not aloft, not anywhere. He had looked at nothing! And somehowCarter felt himself more lonely and without support than when he hadbeen left alone by that man in charge of two ships entangled amongst theShallows and environed by some sinister mystery. Since that man had comeback, instead of welcome relief Carter felt his responsibility rest onhis young shoulders with tenfold weight. His profound conviction wasthat Lingard should be roused.
"Captain Lingard," he burst out in desperation; "you can't say I haveworried you very much since this morning when I received you at theside, but I must be told something. What is it going to be with us?Fight or run?"
Lingard stopped short and now there was no doubt in Carter's mind thatthe Captain was looking at him. There was no room for any doubt beforethat stern and enquiring gaze. "Aha!" thought Carter. "This hasstartled him"; and feeling that his shyness had departed he pursued hisadvantage. "For the fact of the matter is, sir, that, whatever happens,unless I am to be your man you will have no officer. I had better tellyou at once that I have bundled that respectable, crazy, fat Shaw out ofthe ship. He was upsetting all hands. Yesterday I told him to go and gethis dunnage together because I was going to send him aboard the yacht.He couldn't have made more uproar about it if I had proposed to chuckhim overboard. I warned him that if he didn't go quietly I would havehim tied up like a sheep ready for slaughter. However, he went down theladder on his own feet, shaking his fist at me and promising to have mehanged for a pirate some day. He can do no harm on board the yacht. Andnow, sir, it's for you to give orders and not for me--thank God!"
Lingard turned away, abruptly. Carter didn't budge. After a moment heheard himself called from the other side of the deck and obeyed withalacrity.
"What's that story of a man you picked up on the coast last evening?"asked Lingard in his gentlest tone. "Didn't you tell me something aboutit when I came on board?"
"I tried to," said Carter, frankly. "But I soon gave it up. You didn'tseem to pay any attention to what I was saying. I thought you wanted tobe left alone for a bit. What can I know of your ways, yet, sir? Are youaware, Captain Lingard, that since this morning I have been down fivetimes at the cabin door to look at you? There you sat. . . ."
He paused and Lingard said: "You have been five times down in thecabin?"
"Yes. And the sixth time I made up my mind to make you take some noticeof me. I can't be left without orders. There are two ships to lookafter, a lot of things to be done. . . ."
"There is nothing to be done," Lingard interrupted with a mere murmurbut in a tone which made Carter keep silent for a while.
"Even to know that much would have been something to go by," he venturedat last. "I couldn't let you sit there with the sun getting pretty lowand a long night before us."
"I feel stunned yet," said Lingard, looking Carter straight in the face,as if to watch the effect of that confession.
"Were you very near that explosion?" asked the young man withsympathetic curiosity and seeking for some sign on Lingard's person.But there
was nothing. Not a single hair of the Captain's head seemed tohave been singed.
"Near," muttered Lingard. "It might have been my head." He pressed itwith both hands, then let them fall. "What about that man?" he asked,brusquely. "Where did he come from? . . . I suppose he is dead now," headded in an envious tone.
"No, sir. He must have as many lives as a cat," answered Carter. "I willtell you how it was. As I said before I wasn't going to give you up,dead or alive, so yesterday when the sun went down a little in theafternoon I had two of our boats manned and pulled in shore, takingsoundings to find a passage if there was one. I meant to go back andlook for you with the brig or without the brig--but that doesn'tmatter now. There were three or four floating logs in sight. One of theCalashes in my boat made out something red on one of them. I thought itwas worth while to go and see what it was. It was that man's sarong. Ithad got entangled among the branches and prevented him rolling off intothe water. I was never so glad, I assure you, as when we found outthat he was still breathing. If we could only nurse him back to life, Ithought, he could perhaps tell me a lot of things. The log on which hehung had come out of the mouth of the creek and he couldn't have beenmore than half a day on it by my calculation. I had him taken down themain hatchway and put into a hammock in the 'tween-decks. He only justbreathed then, but some time during the night he came to himself andgot out of the hammock to lie down on a mat. I suppose he was morecomfortable that way. He recovered his speech only this morning and Iwent down at once and told you of it, but you took no notice. I told youalso who he was but I don't know whether you heard me or not."
"I don't remember," said Lingard under his breath.
"They are wonderful, those Malays. This morning he was only half alive,if that much, and now I understand he has been talking to Wasub for anhour. Will you go down to see him, sir, or shall I send a couple of mento carry him on deck?"
Lingard looked bewildered for a moment.
"Who on earth is he?" he asked.
"Why, it's that fellow whom you sent out, that night I met you, to catchour first gig. What do they call him? Jaffir, I think. Hasn't he beenwith you ashore, sir? Didn't he find you with the letter I gave him foryou? A most determined looking chap. I knew him again the moment we gothim off the log."
Lingard seized hold of the royal backstay within reach of his hand.Jaffir! Jaffir! Faithful above all others; the messenger of suprememoments; the reckless and devoted servant! Lingard felt a crushing senseof despair. "No, I can't face this," he whispered to himself, lookingat the coast black as ink now before his eyes in the world's shadow thatwas slowly encompassing the grey clearness of the Shallow Waters. "SendWasub to me. I am going down into the cabin."
He crossed over to the companion, then checking himself suddenly: "Wasthere a boat from the yacht during the day?" he asked as if struck bya sudden thought.--"No, sir," answered Carter. "We had no communicationwith the yacht to-day."--"Send Wasub to me," repeated Lingard in a sternvoice as he went down the stairs.
The old serang coming in noiselessly saw his Captain as he had seen himmany times before, sitting under the gilt thunderbolts, apparently asstrong in his body, in his wealth, and in his knowledge of secret wordsthat have a power over men and elements, as ever. The old Malay squatteddown within a couple of feet from Lingard, leaned his back againstthe satinwood panel of the bulkhead, then raising his old eyes with awatchful and benevolent expression to the white man's face, clasped hishands between his knees.
"Wasub, you have learned now everything. Is there no one left alive butJaffir? Are they all dead?"
"May you live!" answered Wasub; and Lingard whispered an appalled "Alldead!" to which Wasub nodded slightly twice. His cracked voice had alamenting intonation. "It is all true! It is all true! You are leftalone, Tuan; you are left alone!"
"It was their destiny," said Lingard at last, with forced calmness. "Buthas Jaffir told you of the manner of this calamity? How is it that healone came out alive from it to be found by you?"
"He was told by his lord to depart and he obeyed," began Wasub, fixinghis eyes on the deck and speaking just loud enough to be heard byLingard, who, bending forward in his seat, shrank inwardly from everyword and yet would not have missed a single one of them for anything.
For the catastrophe had fallen on his head like a bolt from the blue inthe early morning hours of the day before. At the first break of dawn hehad been sent for to resume, his talk with Belarab. He had feltsuddenly Mrs. Travers remove her hand from his head. Her voice speakingintimately into his ear: "Get up. There are some people coming," hadrecalled him to himself. He had got up from the ground. The light wasdim, the air full of mist; and it was only gradually that he began tomake out forms above his head and about his feet: trees, houses, mensleeping on the ground. He didn't recognize them. It was but a cruelchange of dream. Who could tell what was real in this world? He lookedabout him, dazedly; he was still drunk with the deep draught of oblivionhe had conquered for himself. Yes--but it was she who had let him snatchthe cup. He looked down at the woman on the bench. She moved not. Shehad remained like that, still for hours, giving him a waking dreamof rest without end, in an infinity of happiness without sound andmovement, without thought, without joy; but with an infinite ease ofcontent, like a world-embracing reverie breathing the air of sadness andscented with love. For hours she had not moved.
"You are the most generous of women," he said. He bent over her. Hereyes were wide open. Her lips felt cold. It did not shock him. After hestood up he remained near her. Heat is a consuming thing, but she withher cold lips seemed to him indestructible--and, perhaps, immortal!
Again he stooped, but this time it was only to kiss the fringe of herhead scarf. Then he turned away to meet the three men, who, coming roundthe corner of the hut containing the prisoners, were approaching himwith measured steps. They desired his presence in the Council room.Belarab was awake.
They also expressed their satisfaction at finding the white man awake,because Belarab wanted to impart to him information of the greatestimportance. It seemed to Lingard that he had been awake ever since hecould remember. It was as to being alive that he felt not so sure.He had no doubt of his existence; but was this life--this profoundindifference, this strange contempt for what his eyes could see, thisdistaste for words, this unbelief in the importance of things and men?He tried to regain possession of himself, his old self which had thingsto do, words to speak as well as to hear. But it was too difficult. Hewas seduced away by the tense feeling of existence far superior tothe mere consciousness of life, and which in its immensity ofcontradictions, delight, dread, exultation and despair could not befaced and yet was not to be evaded. There was no peace in it. But whowanted peace? Surrender was better, the dreadful ease of slack limbs inthe sweep of an enormous tide and in a divine emptiness of mind. If thiswas existence then he knew that he existed. And he knew that thewoman existed, too, in the sweep of the tide, without speech, withoutmovement, without heat! Indestructible--and, perhaps, immortal!