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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"A Tale Of The Forecastle"

Sometimes, as if tired to death, she would wallow
languidly for a day in the smooth swell of an unruffled sea. All up the
swinging masts the sails thrashed furiously through the hot stillness
of the calm. We were weary, hungry, thirsty; we commenced to believe
Singleton, but with unshaken fidelity dissembled to Jimmy. We spoke
to him with jocose allusiveness, like cheerful accomplices in a clever
plot; but we looked to the westward over the rail with longing eyes for
a sign of hope, for a sign of fair wind; even if its first breath should
bring death to our reluctant Jimmy. In vain! The universe conspired
with James Wait. Light airs from the northward sprang up again; the sky
remained clear; and round our weariness the glittering sea, touched by
the breeze, basked voluptuously in the great sunshine, as though it had
forgotten our life and trouble.
Donkin looked out for a fair wind along with the rest. No one knew the
venom of his thoughts now. He was silent, and appeared thinner, as if
consumed slowly by an inward rage at the injustice of men and of fate.
He was ignored by all and spoke to no one, but his hate for every man
dwelt in his furtive eyes.


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