Chance - Page 253/275

I told him that I understood; and he proceeded to call my attention to

the wonderful linking up of small facts, with something of awe left yet,

after all these years, at the precise workmanship of chance, fate,

providence, call it what you will! "For, observe, Marlow," he said,

making at me very round eyes which contrasted funnily with the austere

touch of grey on his temples, "observe, my dear fellow, that everything

depended on the men who cleared up the poop in the evening leaving that

coil of rope on the deck, and on the topsail-tie carrying away in a most

incomprehensible and surprising manner earlier in the day, and the end of

the chain whipping round the coaming and shivering to bits the coloured

glass-pane at the end of the skylight. It had the arms of the city of

Liverpool on it; I don't know why unless because the Ferndale was

registered in Liverpool. It was very thick plate glass. Anyhow, the

upper part got smashed, and directly we had attended to things aloft Mr.

Franklin had set the carpenter to patch up the damage with some pieces of

plain glass. I don't know where they got them; I think the people who

fitted up new bookcases in the captain's room had left some spare panes.

Chips was there the whole afternoon on his knees, messing with putty and

red-lead. It wasn't a neat job when it was done, not by any means, but

it would serve to keep the weather out and let the light in. Clear

glass. And of course I was not thinking of it. I just stooped to pick

up that rope and found my head within three inches of that clear glass,

and--dash it all! I found myself out. Not half an hour before I was

saying to myself that it was impossible to tell what was in people's

heads or at the back of their talk, or what they were likely to be up to.

And here I found myself up to as low a trick as you can well think of.

For, after I had stooped, there I remained prying, spying, anyway

looking, where I had no business to look. Not consciously at first, may

be. He who has eyes, you know, nothing can stop him from seeing things

as long as there are things to see in front of him. What I saw at first

was the end of the table and the tray clamped on to it, a patent tray for

sea use, fitted with holders for a couple of decanters, water-jug and

glasses. The glitter of these things caught my eye first; but what I saw

next was the captain down there, alone as far as I could see; and I could

see pretty well the whole of that part up to the cottage piano, dark

against the satin-wood panelling of the bulkhead. And I remained

looking. I did. And I don't know that I was ashamed of myself either,

then. It was the fault of that Franklin, always talking of the man,

making free with him to that extent that really he seemed to have become

our property, his and mine, in a way. It's funny, but one had that

feeling about Captain Anthony. To watch him was not so much worse than

listening to Franklin talking him over. Well, it's no use making excuses

for what's inexcusable. I watched; but I dare say you know that there

could have been nothing inimical in this low behaviour of mine. On the

contrary. I'll tell you now what he was doing. He was helping himself

out of a decanter. I saw every movement, and I said to myself mockingly

as though jeering at Franklin in my thoughts, 'Hallo! Here's the captain

taking to drink at last.' He poured a little brandy or whatever it was

into a long glass, filled it with water, drank about a fourth of it and

stood the glass back into the holder. Every sign of a bad drinking bout,

I was saying to myself, feeling quite amused at the notions of that

Franklin. He seemed to me an enormous ass, with his jealousy and his

fears. At that rate a month would not have been enough for anybody to

get drunk. The captain sat down in one of the swivel arm-chairs fixed

around the table; I had him right under me and as he turned the chair

slightly, I was looking, I may say, down his back. He took another

little sip and then reached for a book which was lying on the table. I

had not noticed it before. Altogether the proceedings of a desperate

drunkard--weren't they? He opened the book and held it before his face.

If this was the way he took to drink, then I needn't worry. He was in no

danger from that, and as to any other, I assure you no human being could

have looked safer than he did down there. I felt the greatest contempt

for Franklin just then, while I looked at Captain Anthony sitting there

with a glass of weak brandy-and-water at his elbow and reading in the

cabin of his ship, on a quiet night--the quietest, perhaps the finest, of

a prosperous passage. And if you wonder why I didn't leave off my ugly

spying I will tell you how it was. Captain Anthony was a great reader

just about that time; and I, too, I have a great liking for books. To

this day I can't come near a book but I must know what it is about. It

was a thickish volume he had there, small close print, double columns--I

can see it now. What I wanted to make out was the title at the top of

the page. I have very good eyes but he wasn't holding it conveniently--I

mean for me up there. Well, it was a history of some kind, that much I

read and then suddenly he bangs the book face down on the table, jumps up

as if something had bitten him and walks away aft.