CHAPTER FOUR
On men reprieved by its disdainful mercy, the immortal sea confers in
its justice the full privilege of desired unrest. Through the perfect
wisdom of its grace they are not permitted to meditate at ease upon
the complicated and acrid savour of existence. They must without pause
justify their life to the eternal pity that commands toil to be hard
and unceasing, from sunrise to sunset, from sunset to sunrise; till the
weary succession of nights and days tainted by the obstinate clamour of
sages, demanding bliss and an empty heaven, is redeemed at last by the
vast silence of pain and labour, by the dumb fear and the dumb courage
of men obscure, forgetful, and enduring.
The master and Mr. Baker coming face to face stared for a moment, with
the intense and amazed looks of men meeting unexpectedly after years of
trouble. Their voices were gone, and they whispered desperately at
one another.--"Any one missing?" asked Captain Allistoun.--"No. All
there."--"Anybody hurt?"--"Only the second mate."--"I will look after
him directly. We're lucky."--"Very," articulated Mr. Baker, faintly. He
gripped the rail and rolled bloodshot eyes.
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