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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"A Tale Of The Forecastle"

Wamibo dreamed. Mr. Baker read on, grunting
reverently at the turn of every page. The words, missing the unsteady
hearts of men, rolled out to wander without a home upon the heartless
sea; and James Wait, silenced for ever, lay uncritical and passive under
the hoarse murmur of despair and hopes.
Two men made ready and waited for those words that send so many of our
brothers to their last plunge. Mr. Baker began the passage. "Stand by,"
muttered the boatswain. Mr. Baker read out: "To the deep," and paused.
The men lifted the inboard end of the planks, the boatswain snatched
off the Union Jack, and James Wait did not move.--"Higher," muttered
the boatswain angrily. All the heads were raised; every man stirred
uneasily, but James Wait gave no sign of going. In death and swathed up
for all eternity, he yet seemed to cling to the ship with the grip of
an undying fear. "Higher! Lift!" whispered the boatswain, fiercely.--"He
won't go," stammered one of the men, shakily, and both appeared ready
to drop everything. Mr. Baker waited, burying his face in the book, and
shuffling his feet nervously. All the men looked profoundly disturbed;
from their midst a faint humming noise spread out--growing louder.


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