pye ogon'ki, kakie mne dovodilos' videt' v glazah u leopardov i drugih hishchnikov, posazhennyh v kletku. But this day, as I noted them pacing up and down, I saw that it was she who terminated the walk. They came up to where I was standing by the entrance to the companion-way. Though she betrayed it by no outward sign, I felt, somehow, that she was greatly perturbed. She made some idle remark, looking at me, and laughed lightly enough; but I saw her eyes return to his, involuntarily, as though fascinated; then they fell, but not swiftly enough to veil the rush of terror that filled them. Segodnya, nablyudaya za Larsenom i miss Bruster, kogda oni prohazhivalis' vzad i vpered po palube, ya zametil, chto ne on, a ona polozhila konec progulke. Oni proshli mimo menya, napravlyayas' k trapu v kayutkompaniyu, i ya srazu pochuvstvoval, chto miss Bruster chem-to krajne vstrevozhena, hotya i ne podaet vidu. Vzglyanuv na menya, ona proiznesla neskol'ko nichego ne znachashchih slov i rassmeyalas' dovol'no neprinuzhdenno, no glaza ee, slovno pomimo voli, obratilis' na Volka Larsena, i, hotya ona totchas opustila ih, ya uspel zametit' promel'knuvshij v nih uzhas. It was in his eyes that I saw the cause of her perturbation. Ordinarily grey and cold and harsh, they were now warm and soft and golden, and all a-dance with tiny lights that dimmed and faded, or welled up till the full orbs were flooded with a glowing radiance. Perhaps it was to this that the golden colour was due; but golden his eyes were, enticing and masterful, at the same time luring and compelling, and speaking a demand and clamour of the blood which no woman, much less Maud Brewster, could misunderstand. Razgadku etogo ya prochel v ego glazah. Serye, holodnye, zhestokie, glaza eti teplilis' sejchas myagkim, zolotistym svetom. Kazalos', v nih plyashut krohotnye iskorki, kotorye to merknut i zatuhayut, to razgorayutsya tak, chto ves' zrachok polnitsya luchistym siyaniem. Ottogo, byt' mozhet, v nih i byl etot zolotistyj svet. Oni manili i povelevali, govorili o volnenii v krovi. V nih gorelo zhelanie -- kakaya zhenshchina mogla by etogo ne ponyat'Tol'ko ne Mod Bruster! Her own terror rushed upon me, and in that moment of fear - the most terrible fear a man can experience - I knew that in inexpressible ways she was dear to me. The knowledge that I loved her rushed upon me with the terror, and with both emotions gripping at my heart and causing my blood at the same time to chill and to leap riotously, I felt myself drawn by a power without me and beyond me, and found my eyes returning against my will to gaze into the eyes of Wolf Larsen. But he had recovered himself. The golden colour and the dancing lights were gone. Cold and grey and glittering they were as he bowed brusquely and turned away. Ee ispug peredalsya mne, i v etot mig samogo otchayannogo straha, kakoj mozhet ispytat' muzhchina, ya ponyal, kak ona mne doroga. I vmeste s nahlynuvshim na menya strahom roslo soznanie, chto ya lyublyu ee. Strah i lyubov' terzali moe serdce, zastavlyali krov' to ledenet', to burno kipet' v zhilah, i v to zhe vremya kakaya-to sila, nad kotoroj ya byl ne vlasten, prikovyvala moj vzglyad k Volku Larsenu. No on uzhe ovladel soboj. Zolotistyj svet i plyashushchie iskorki pogasli v ego glazah, vzglyad snova stal holodnym i zhestkim. On suho poklonilsya i ushel. "I am afraid," she whispered, with a shiver. "I am so afraid." -- Mne strashno, -- prosheptala Mod Bruster, i po telu ee probezhala drozh'. -- Kak mne strashno! I, too, was afraid, and what of my discovery of how much she meant to me my mind was in a turmoil; but, I succeeded in answering quite calmly: Mne tozhe bylo strashno, i ya byl v polnom smyatenii, ponyav, kak mnogo ona dlya menya znachit. Vse zhe, sdelav nad soboj usilie, ya otvetil spokojno: "All will come right, Miss Brewster. Trust me, it will come right." -- Vse obojdetsya, miss Bruster! Vse obojdetsya, pover'te! She answered with a grateful little smile that sent my heart pounding, and started to descend the companion-stairs. Ona vzglyanula na menya s blagodarnoj ulybkoj, ot kotoroj serdce moe zatrepetalo, i nachala spuskat'sya po trapu. For a long while I remained standing where she had left me. There was imperative need to adjust myself, to consider the significance of the changed aspect of things. It had come, at last, love had come, when I least expected it and under the most forbidding conditions. Of course, my philosophy had always recognized the inevitableness of the love-call sooner or later; but long years of bookish silence had made me inattentive and unprepared. A ya dolgo stoyal tam, gde ona ostavila menya. YA dolzhen byl razobrat'sya v proisshedshem, ponyat' znachenie sovershivshejsya v moej zhizni peremeny. Itak, lyubov' nakonec prishla ko mne, prishla, kogda ya menee vsego ee zhdal, kogda vse zapreshchalo mne dazhe pomyshlyat' o nej. Razdumyvaya nad zhizn'yu, ya, razumeetsya, vsegda priznaval, chto lyubov' rano ili pozdno postuchitsya i ko mne. No dolgie gody, provedennye v odinochestve, sredi knig, ne mogli podgotovit' menya k vstreche s neyu. And now it had come! Maud Brewster! My memory flashed back to that first thin little volume on my desk, and I saw before me, as though in the concrete, the row of thin little volumes on my library shelf. How I had welcomed each of them! Each year one had come from the press, and to me each was the advent of the year. They had voiced a kindred intellect and spirit, and as such I had received them into a camaraderie of the mind; but now their place was in my heart. I vot lyubov' prishla! Mod BrusterPamyat' mgnovenno perenesla menya k tomu dnyu, kogda pervyj tonen'kij tomik ee stihov poyavilsya na moem pis'mennom stole. Kak nayavu, vstal predo mnoj i ves' ryad takih zhe tomikov, vystroivshihsya na moej knizhnoj polke. Kak ya privetstvoval poyavlenie kazhdogo iz nih! Oni vyhodili po odnomu v god i kak by znamenovali dlya menya nastuplenie novogo goda. YA nahodil v nih rodstvennye mne mysli i chuvstva, i oni stali postoyannymi sputnikami moej duhovnoj zhizni. A teper' zanyali mesto i v moem serdce. My heart? A revulsion of feeling came over me. I seemed to stand outside myself and to look at myself incredulously. Maud Brewster! Humphrey Van Weyden, "the cold-blooded fish," the "emotionless monster," the "analytical demon," of Charley Furuseth's christening, in love! And then, without rhyme or reason, all sceptical, my mind flew back to a small biographical note in the red-bound WHO'S WHO, and I said to myself, "She was born in Cambridge, and she is twenty-seven years old." And then I said, "Twenty-seven years old and still free and fancy free?" But how did I know she was fancy free? And the pang of new-born jealousy put all incredulity to flight. There was no doubt about it. I was jealous; therefore I loved. And the woman I loved was Maud Brewster. V serdce? Vnezapno moi mysli prinyali drugoe napravlenie. YA slovno vzglyanul na sebya so storony i usomnilsya v sebe. Mod Bruster... YA -- Hemfri Van-Vejden, kotorogo CHarli Feraset okrestil "ryboj", "beschuvstvennym chudovishchem", "demonom analiza", -- vlyublen! I tut zhe, bez vsyakoj vidimoj svyazi, mne prishla na pamyat' malen'kaya zametka v biograficheskom spravochnike, i ya skazal sebe: "Ona rodilas' v Kembridzhe, ej dvadcat' sem' let". I myslenno voskliknul: "Dvadcat' sem' let, i ona vse eshche svobodna i ne vlyublena!" No otkuda ya mog znat', chto ona ne vlyublena? Bol' ot vnezapno vspyhnuvshej revnosti podavila ostatki somnenij. V chem tut eshche somnevat'syaYA revnuyu -- znachit, lyublyu. I zhenshchina, kotoruyu ya lyublyu, -- Mod Bruster! I, Humphrey Van Weyden, was in love! And again the doubt assailed me. Not that I was afraid of it, however, or reluctant to meet it. On the contrary, idealist that I was to the most pronounced degree, my philosophy had always recognized and guerdoned love as the greatest thing in the world, the aim and the summit of being, the most exquisite pitch of joy and happiness to which life could thrill, the thing of all things to be hailed and welcomed and taken into the heart. But now that it had come I could not believe. I could not be so fortunate. It was too good, too good to be true. Symons's lines came into my head: Kak? YA, Hemfri Van-Vejden, vlyublen? Somneniya snova ovladeli mnoj. Ne to chtoby ya boyalsya lyubvi ili byl ej ne rad. Naprotiv, ubezhdennyj idealist, ya vsegda voshvalyal lyubov', schital ee velichajshim blagom na zemle, cel'yu i vencom sushchestvovaniya, samoj yarkoj radost'yu i samym bol'shim schast'em, kotoroe sleduet prizyvat' i vstrechat' s otkrytoj dushoj. No kogda lyubov' prishla, ya ne mog etomu poverit'. Takoe schast'e ne dlya menya. |to slishkom neveroyatno. Mne nevol'no pripomnilis' stihi Sajmonsa: "I wandered all these years among A world of women, seeking you." Sred' sonma zhenshchin mnogo dolgih let Bluzhdal ya, no iskal tebya odnu And then I had ceased seeking. It was not for me, this greatest thing in the world, I had decided. Furuseth was right; I was abnormal, an "emotionless monster," a strange bookish creature, capable of pleasuring in sensations only of the mind. And though I had been surrounded by women all my days, my appreciation of them had been aesthetic and nothing more. I had actually, at times, considered myself outside the pale, a monkish fellow denied the eternal or the passing passions I saw and understood so well in others. And now it had come! Undreamed of and unheralded, it had come. In what could have been no less than an ecstasy, I left my post at the head of the companion-way and started along the deck, murmuring to myself those beautiful lines of Mrs. Browning: A ya davno perestal iskat', reshiv, chto "velichajshee blago", kak vidno, ne dlya menya i Feraset prav: ya ne takoj, kak vse normal'nye lyudi, ya -- "beschuvstvennoe chudovishche", knizhnyj cherv', zhivushchij tol'ko razumom i tol'ko v etom sposobnyj nahodit' usladu. I hotya vsyu zhizn' ya byl okruzhen zhenshchinami, no vosprinimal ih chisto esteticheski. Po vremenam mne i samomu nachinalo kazat'sya, chto ya iz drugogo testa, nezheli vse, i obrechen zhit' monahom, i ne dano mne ispytat' te vechnye ili prehodyashchie strasti, kotorye ya nablyudal i tak horosho ponimal v drugih. I vot strast' prishla. Prishla nezhdanno-negadanno. V kakom-to ekstaze ya pobrel po palube, bormocha pro sebya prelestnye stihi |lizabet Brauning [13]: "I lived with visions for my company Instead of men and women years ago, And found them gentle mates, nor thought to know A sweeter music than they played to me." Kogda-to ya pokinul mir lyudej I zhil odin sredi moih videnij. YA ne znaval tovarishchej milej I muzyki nezhnej ih pesnopenij. But the sweeter music was playing in my ears, and I was blind and oblivious to all about me. The sharp voice of Wolf Larsen aroused me. No eshche bolee nezhnaya muzyka zvuchala teper' v moih ushah, i ya byl gluh i slep ko vsemu okruzhayushchemu. Rezkij okrik Volka Larsena zastavil menya ochnut'sya. "What the hell are you up to?" he was demanding. -- Kakogo cherta vam tut nuzhno? -- ryavknul on. I had strayed forward where the sailors were painting, and I came to myself to find my advancing foot on the verge of overturning a paint-pot. YA nabrel na matrosov, krasivshih bort shhuny, i chut' ne oprokinul vedro s kraskoj. "Sleep-walking, sunstroke, - what?" he barked. -- Vy chto, ochumeli? Mozhet, u vas solnechnyj udar? -- prodolzhal on bushevat'. "No; indigestion," I retorted, and continued my walk as if nothing untoward had occurred. -- Net, rasstrojstvo zheludka, -- otrezal ya i kak ni v chem ne byvalo zashagal dal'she. CHAPTER XXIV GLAVA XXIV Among the most vivid memories of my life are those of the events on the Ghost which occurred during the forty hours succeeding the discovery of my love for Maud Brewster. I, who had lived my life in quiet places, only to enter at the age of thirty-five upon a course of the most irrational adventure I could have imagined, never had more incident and excitement crammed into any forty hours of my experience. Nor can I quite close my ears to a small voice of pride which tells me I did not do so badly, all things considered. Sobytiya, razygravshiesya na "Prizrake" vskore posle togo, kak ya sdelal otkrytie, chto vlyublen v Mod Bruster, ostanutsya navsegda odnim iz samyh volnuyushchih vospominanij moej zhizni. Vse proizoshlo na protyazhenii kakih-nibud' soroka chasov. Prozhiv tridcat' pyat' let v tishi i uedinenii, ya neozhidanno popal v polosu samyh neveroyatnyh priklyuchenij. Nikogda ne dovodilos' mne ispytyvat' stol'ko trevolnenij za kakie-nibud' sorok chasov. I esli kakoj-to golos nasheptyvaet mne poroj, chto pri slozhivshihsya obstoyatel'stvah ya derzhalsya ne tak uzh ploho, -- ya ne ochen'-to plotno zatykayu ushi... To begin with, at the midday dinner, Wolf Larsen informed the hunters that they were to eat thenceforth in the steerage. It was an unprecedented thing on sealing-schooners, where it is the custom for the hunters to rank, unofficially as officers. He gave no reason, but his motive was obvious enough. Horner and Smoke had been displaying a gallantry toward Maud Brewster, ludicrous in itself and inoffensive to her, but to him evidently distasteful. Vse nachalos' s togo, chto v polden', za obedom. Volk Larsen predlozhil ohotnikam pitat'sya vpred' v svoem kubrike. |to bylo neslyhannym narusheniem obychaya, ustanovivshegosya na promyslovyh shhunah, gde ohotniki neoficial'no priravnivayutsya k oficeram. Larsen ne pozhelal puskat'sya v ob®yasneniya, no vse bylo yasno bez slov. Horner i Smok nachali okazyvat' Mod Bruster znaki vnimaniya. |to bylo tol'ko smeshno i niskol'ko ne zadevalo ee, no kapitanu yavno prishlos' ne po vkusu. The announcement was received with black silence, though the other four hunters glanced significantly at the two who had been the cause of their banishment. Jock Horner, quiet as was his way, gave no sign; but the blood surged darkly across Smoke's forehead, and he half opened his mouth to speak. Wolf Larsen was watching him, waiting for him, the steely glitter in his eyes; but Smoke closed his mouth again without having said anything. Rasporyazhenie kapitana bylo vstrecheno grobovym molchaniem; ostal'nye chetvero ohotnikov mnogoznachitel'no pokosilis' na vinovnikov izgnaniya. Dzhok Horner, malyj vyderzhannyj, i glazom ne morgnul, no Smok pobagrovel i uzhe gotov byl chto-to vozrazit'. Odnako Volk Larsen sledil za nim i zhdal, glaza ego holodno pobleskivali, i Smok tak i ne proronil ni slova. "Anything to say?" the other demanded aggressively. -- Vy, kazhetsya, hoteli chto-to skazat'? -- vyzyvayushche sprosil ego Volk Larsen. It was a challenge, but Smoke refused to accept it. No Smok ne prinyal vyzova. "About what?" he asked, so innocently that Wolf Larsen was disconcerted, while the others smiled. -- |to naschet chego? -- v svoyu ochered', sprosil on i pri etom s takim nevinnym vidom, chto Volk Larsen ne srazu nashelsya, chto skazat', a vse prisutstvuyushchie usmehnulis'. "Oh, nothing," Wolf Larsen said lamely. "I just thought you might want to register a kick." -- Ne znayu, -- protyanul Volk Larsen. -- Mne, otkrovenno govorya, pokazalos', chto vam ne terpitsya poluchit' pinka. "About what?" asked the imperturbable Smoke. -- |to za chto zhe? -- vse tak zhe nevozmutimo vozrazil Smok. Smoke's mates were now smiling broadly. His captain could have killed him, and I doubt not that blood would have flowed had not Maud Brewster been present. For that matter, it was her presence which enabled. Smoke to act as he did. He was too discreet and cautious a man to incur Wolf Larsen's anger at a time when that anger could be expressed in terms stronger than words. I was in fear that a struggle might take place, but a cry from the helmsman made it easy for the situation to save itself. Ohotniki uzhe otkrovenno ulybalis' vo ves' rot. Kapitan gotov byl ubit' Smoka, i ya ubezhden, chto tol'ko prisutstvie Mod Bruster uderzhalo ego ot krovoprolitiya. Vprochem, ne bud' ee zdes'. Smok i ne vel by sebya tak. On byl slishkom ostorozhen, chtoby razdrazhat' Volka Larsena v takuyu minutu, kogda tot besprepyatstvenno mog pustit' v hod kulaki. Vse zhe ya ochen' boyalsya, chto delo dojdet do draki, no krik rulevogo razryadil napryazhenie. "Smoke ho!" the cry came down the open companion-way. -- Dym na gorizonte! -- doneslos' s paluby cherez otkrytyj lyuk trapa. "How's it bear?" Wolf Larsen called up. -- Napravlenie? -- kriknul v otvet Volk Larsen. "Dead astern, sir." -- Pryamo za kormoj, ser. "Maybe it's a Russian," suggested Latimer. -- Ne russkie li? -- vyskazal predpolozhenie Letimer. His words brought anxiety into the faces of the other hunters. A Russian could mean but one thing - a cruiser. The hunters, never more than roughly aware of the position of the ship, nevertheless knew that we were close to the boundaries of the forbidden sea, while Wolf Larsen's record as a poacher was notorious. All eyes centred upon him. Pri etih slovah lica ohotnikov pomrachneli. Russkij parohod mog byt' tol'ko krejserom, i hotya ohotniki imeli lish' smutnoe predstavlenie o koordinatah shhuny, no oni vse zhe znali, chto nahodyatsya vblizi granic zapretnyh vod, a brakon'erskie podvigi Volka Larsena byli obshcheizvestny. Vse glaza ustremilis' na nego. "We're dead safe," he assured them with a laugh. "No salt mines this time, Smoke. But I'll tell you what - I'll lay odds of five to one it's the Macedonia." -- Vzdor! -- so smehom otozvalsya on. -- Na etot raz, Smok, vy eshche ne popadete na solyanye kopi. No vot chto ya vam skazhu: stavlyu pyat' protiv odnogo, chto eto "Makedoniya". No one accepted his offer, and he went on: "In which event, I'll lay ten to one there's trouble breezing up." Nikto ne prinyal ego pari, i on prodolzhal: -- A esli eto "Makedoniya", tak derzhu desyat' protiv odnogo, chto ne minovat' nam stychki. "No, thank you," Latimer spoke up. "I don't object to losing my money, but I like to get a run for it anyway. There never was a time when there wasn't trouble when you and that brother of yours got together, and I'll lay twenty to one on that." -- Net uzh, pokorno blagodaryu, -- provorchal Letimer. -- Mozhno, konechno, i risknut', kogda est' kakojnibud' shans. No razve u vas s vashim bratcem delo hot' raz oboshlos' bez stychki? Stavlyu dvadcat' protiv odnogo, chto i teper' budet to zhe. A general smile followed, in which Wolf Larsen joined, and the dinner went on smoothly, thanks to me, for he treated me abominably the rest of the meal, sneering at me and patronizing me till I was all a-tremble with suppressed rage. Yet I knew I must control myself for Maud Brewster's sake, and I received my reward when her eyes caught mine for a fleeting second, and they said, as distinctly as if she spoke, "Be brave, be brave." Vse zasmeyalis', v tom chisle i sam Larsen, i obed proshel sravnitel'no gladko -- glavnym obrazom blagodarya moemu dolgoterpeniyu, tak kak kapitan vzyalsya posle etogo izvodit' menya, to vyshuchivaya, to prinimaya pokrovitel'stvennyj ton, i dovel delo do togo, chto menya uzhe tryaslo ot beshenstva i ya ele sderzhivalsya. No ya znal, chto dolzhen derzhat' sebya v rukah radi Mod Bruster, i byl voznagrazhden, kogda glaza ee na mig vstretilis' s moimi i skazali mne yasnee slov: "Krepites', krepites'!" We left the table to go on deck, for a steamer was a welcome break in the monotony of the sea on which we floated, while the conviction that it was Death Larsen and the Macedonia added to the excitement. The stiff breeze and heavy sea which had sprung up the previous afternoon had been moderating all morning, so that it was now possible to lower the boats for an afternoon's hunt. The hunting promised to be profitable. We had sailed since daylight across a sea barren of seals, and were now running into the herd. Vstav iz-za stola, my podnyalis' na palubu. Vstrecha s parohodom sulila kakoe-to raznoobrazie v monotonnom morskom plavanii, a predpolozhenie, chto eto Smert' Larsen na svoej "Makedonii", osobenno vzvolnovalo vseh. Svezhij veter, podnyavshij nakanune sil'nuyu volnu, uzhe s utra nachal stihat', i teper' mozhno bylo spuskat' lodki; ohota obeshchala byt' udachnoj. S rassveta my shli po sovershenno pustynnomu moryu, a sejchas pered nami bylo bol'shoe stado kotikov. The smoke was still miles astern, but overhauling us rapidly, when we lowered our boats. They spread out and struck a northerly course across the ocean. Now and again we saw a sail lower, heard the reports of the shot-guns, and saw the sail go up again. The seals were thick, the wind was dying away; everything favoured a big catch. As we ran off to get our leeward position of the last lee boat, we found the ocean fairly carpeted with sleeping seals. They were all about us, thicker than I had ever seen them before, in twos and threes and bunches, stretched full length on the surface and sleeping for all the world like so many lazy young dogs. Dymok parohoda po-prezhnemu vidnelsya vdali za kormoj i, poka my spuskali lodki, stal zametno priblizhat'sya k nam. Nashi shlyupki rasseyalis' po okeanu i vzyali kurs na sever. Vremya ot vremeni na kakoj-nibud' iz nih spuskali parus, posle chego ottuda donosilis' zvuki vystrelov, a zatem parus vzvivalsya snova. Kotiki shli gusto, veter sovsem stih, vse blagopriyatstvovalo ohote. Vyjdya na podvetrennuyu storonu ot krajnej shlyupki, my obnaruzhili, chto more zdes' bukval'no useyano telami spyashchih kotikov. YA nikogda eshche ne videl nichego podobnogo: kotiki okruzhali nas so vseh storon i, rastyanuvshis' na vode po dvoe, po troe ili nebol'shimi gruppami, mirno spali, kak lenivye shchenki. Under the approaching smoke the hull and upper-works of a steamer were growing larger. It was the Macedonia. I read her name through the glasses as she passed by scarcely a mile to starboard. Wolf Larsen looked savagely at the vessel, while Maud Brewster was curious. Dym vse priblizhalsya, i uzhe nachali vyrisovyvat'sya korpus parohoda i ego palubnye nadstrojki. |to byla "Makedoniya". YA prochel nazvanie sudna v binokl', kogda ono prohodilo sprava, vsego v kakoj-nibud' mile ot nas. Volk Larsen brosil zlobnyj vzglyad v ego storonu, a Mod Bruster s lyubopytstvom posmotrela na kapitana. "Where is the trouble you were so sure was breezing up, Captain Larsen?" she asked gaily. -- Gde zhe stychka, kotoruyu vy predrekali, kapitan Larsen? -- veselo sprosila ona. He glanced at her, a moment's amusement softening his features. On vzglyanul na nee s usmeshkoj, i lico ego na mig smyagchilos'. "What did you expect? That they'd come aboard and cut our throats?" -- A vy chego zhdali? CHto oni voz'mut nas na abordazh i pererezhut nam glotki? "Something like that," she confessed. "You understand, seal- hunters are so new and strange to me that I am quite ready to expect anything." -- Da, chego-nibud' v etom rode, -- priznalas' ona. -- YA ved' tak malo znayu nravy morskih ohotnikov, chto gotova ozhidat' chego ugodno. He nodded his head. "Quite right, quite right. Your error is that you failed to expect the worst." On kivnul. -- Pravil'no, pravil'noVasha oshibka lish' v tom, chto vy mogli ozhidat' chego-nibud' i pohuzhe. "Why, what can be worse than cutting our throats?" she asked, with pretty naive surprise. -- Kak? CHto zhe eshche mozhet byt' huzhe, chem esli nam pererezhut glotki? -- naivno udivilas' ona. "Cutting our purses," he answered. "Man is so made these days that his capacity for living is determined by the money he possesses." -- Huzhe, esli u nas vzrezhut koshelek, -- otvetil on. -- V nashe vremya chelovek ustroen tak, chto ego zhiznesposobnost' opredelyaetsya soderzhaniem ego koshel'ka. "'Who steals my purse steals trash,'" she quoted. -- "Gorst' musora poluchit tot, kto koshelek moj ukradet", -- procitirovala ona. "Who steals my purse steals my right to live," was the reply, "old saws to the contrary. For he steals my bread and meat and bed, and in so doing imperils my life. There are not enough soup-kitchens and bread-lines to go around, you know, and when men have nothing in their purses they usually die, and die miserably - unless they are able to fill their purses pretty speedily." -- No kto kradet moj koshelek, kradet moe pravo na zhizn', -- posledoval otvet. -- Staraya pogovorka naiznanku... Ved' on kradet moj hleb, i moj kusok myasa, i moyu postel' i tem samym stavit pod ugrozu i moyu zhizn'. Vy zhe znaete, chto togo supa i hleba, kotorye besplatno razdayut bednyakam, hvataet daleko ne na vseh golodnyh, i, kogda u cheloveka pust koshelek, emu nichego ne ostaetsya, kak umeret' sobach'ej smert'yu... esli on ne izlovchitsya tem ili inym sposobom bystro svoj koshelek popolnit'. "But I fail to see that this steamer has any designs on your purse." -- No ya ne vizhu, chtoby etot parohod pokushalsya na vash koshelek. "Wait and you will see," he answered grimly. -- Podozhdite, eshche uvidite, -- mrachno promolvil on. We did not have long to wait. Having passed several miles beyond our line of boats, the Macedonia proceeded to lower her own. We knew she carried fourteen boats to our five (we were one short through the desertion of Wainwright), and she began dropping them far to leeward of our last boat, continued dropping them athwart our course, and finished dropping them far to windward of our first weather boat. The hunting, for us, was spoiled. There were no seals behind us, and ahead of us the line of fourteen boats, like a huge broom, swept the herd before it. ZHdat' nam prishlos' nedolgo. Projdya na neskol'ko mil' vpered za nashi shlyupki, "Makedoniya" spustila svoi. My znali, chto na nej chetyrnadcat' shlyupok, a u nas bylo tol'ko pyat', posle togo kak na odnoj udral Uejnrajt. "Makedoniya" snachala spustila neskol'ko shlyupok s podvetrennoj storony i dovol'no daleko ot nashej krajnej shlyupki, potom stala spuskat' ih poperek nashego kursa i poslednyuyu spustila daleko s navetrennoj storony ot nashej blizhajshej shlyupki. Manevr "Makedonii" isportil nam ohotu. Pozadi nas kotikov ne bylo, a vperedi borozdili more chetyrnadcat' chuzhih shlyupok i, slovno ogromnaya metla, smetali pered soboyu stado. Our boats hunted across the two or three miles of water between them and the point where the Macedonia's had been dropped, and then headed for home. The wind had fallen to a whisper, the ocean was growing calmer and calmer, and this, coupled with the presence of the great herd, made a perfect hunting day - one of the two or three days to be encountered in the whole of a lucky season. An angry lot of men, boat-pullers and steerers as well as hunters, swarmed over our side. Each man felt that he had been robbed; and the boats were hoisted in amid curses, which, if curses had power, would have settled Death Larsen for all eternity - "Dead and damned for a dozen iv eternities," commented Louis, his eyes twinkling up at me as he rested from hauling taut the lashings of his boat. Zakonchiv otstrel zverya na uzkoj polose v tri-chetyre mili, -- eto bylo vse, chto ostavila nam dlya ohoty "Makedoniya", -- nashi shlyupki vynuzhdeny byli vernut'sya na shhunu. Veter ulegsya, ele zametnoe dunovenie pronosilos' nad pritihshim okeanom. Takaya pogoda pri vstreche s ogromnym stadom kotikov mogla by obespechit' otlichnuyu ohotu. Dazhe v udachnyj sezon takih dnej vypadaet nemnogo, i vse nashi matrosy -- i grebcy i rulevye, ne govorya uzhe ob ohotnikah, -- podnimayas' na bort, kipeli zloboj. Kazhdyj chuvstvoval sebya ograblennym. Poka vtaskivali shlyupki, proklyatiya tak i sypalis' na golovu Smerti Larsena, i esli by krepkie slova mogli ubivat', on, verno, byl by obrechen na pogibel'. -- Provalit'sya by emu v preispodnyuyu na veki vechnye! -- provorchal Luis, brosaya mne mnogoznachitel'nyj vzglyad i prisazhivayas' otdohnut', posle togo kak on prinajtovil svoyu shlyupku. "Listen to them, and find if it is hard to discover the most vital thing in their souls," said Wolf Larsen. "Faith? and love? and high ideals? The good? The beautiful? the true?" -- Vot prislushajtes'-ka k ih slovam i skazhite, chto eshche moglo by tak ih vzvolnovat', -- zagovoril Volk Larsen. -- Vera? Lyubov'? Vysokie idealy? Dobro? Krasota? Istina? "Their innate sense of right has been violated," Maud Brewster said, joining the conversation. -- V nih oskorbleno vrozhdennoe chuvstvo spravedlivosti, -- zametila Mod Bruster. She was standing a dozen feet away, one hand resting on the main- shrouds and her body swaying gently to the slight roll of the ship. She had not raised her voice, and yet I was struck by its clear and bell-like tone. Ah, it was sweet in my ears! I scarcely dared look at her just then, for the fear of betraying myself. A boy's cap was perched on her head, and her hair, light brown and arranged in a loose and fluffy order that caught the sun, seemed an aureole about the delicate oval of her face. She was positively bewitching, and, withal, sweetly spirituelle, if not saintly. All my old-time marvel at life returned to me at sight of this splendid incarnation of it, and Wolf Larsen's cold explanation of life and its meaning was truly ridiculous and laughable. Ona stoyala shagah v desyati ot nas, priderzhivayas' odnoj rukoj za grot-vanty i chut' pokachivayas' v takt legkoj kachke shhuny. Ona skazala eto negromko, no ya vzdrognul -- golos ee prozvenel, kak chistyj kolokol'chik. Kak on laskal moj sluh! YA edva osmelilsya vzglyanut' na nee, boyas' vydat' sebya. Svetlo-kashtanovye volosy ee, vybivayas' iz-pod morskoj furazhki, zolotilis' na solnce i slovno oreolom okruzhali nezhnyj oval lica. Ona byla ocharovatel'na i polna soblazna, i vmeste s tem neobychajnaya oduhotvorennost' ee oblika pridavala ej chto-to nezemnoeVse moe prezhnee vostorzhennoe preklonenie pered zhizn'yu voskreslo vo mne pered stol' divnym ee voploshcheniem, i holodnye rassuzhdeniya Volka Larsena o smysle zhizni pokazalis' nelepymi i smeshnymi. "A sentimentalist," he sneered, "like Mr. Van Weyden. Those men are cursing because their desires have been outraged. That is all. What desires? The desires for the good grub and soft beds ashore which a handsome pay-day brings them - the women and the drink, the gorging and the beastliness which so truly expresses them, the best that is in them, their highest aspirations, their ideals, if you please. The exhibition they make of their feelings is not a touching sight, yet it shows how deeply they have been touched, how deeply their purses have been touched, for to lay hands on their purses is to lay hands on their souls." -- Vy sentimental'ny, kak mister Van-Vejden, -- yazvitel'no proiznes Larsen. -- Pochemu eti lyudi chertyhayutsya? Da potomu, chto kto-to pomeshal ispolneniyu ih zhelanij. A kakovy ih zhelaniya? Pozhrat' povkusnej da povalyat'sya na myagkoj posteli, sojdya na bereg, posle togo kak im vyplatyat kruglen'kuyu summu. ZHenshchiny i vino, zhivotnyj razgul -- vot i vse ih zhelaniya, vse, chem polny ih dushi, -- ih vysshie stremleniya, ih idealy, esli hotite. To, kak oni proyavlyayut svoi chuvstva, zrelishche maloprivlekatel'noe, zato sejchas ochen' yasno vidno, chto oni zadety za zhivoe. Rastrevozhit' ih dushu mozhno sil'nee vsego, esli zalezt' k nim v karman. "'You hardly behave as if your purse had been touched," she said, smilingly. -- Odnako po vashemu povedeniyu ne vidno, chtoby k vam zalezli v karman, -- skazala ona smeyas'. "Then it so happens that I am behaving differently, for my purse and my soul have both been touched. At the current price of skins in the London market, and based on a fair estimate of what the afternoon's catch would have been had not the Macedonia hogged it, the Ghost has lost about fifteen hundred dollars' worth of skins." -- Vidimo, ya prosto vedu sebya inache, a mne tozhe zalezli v karman i, sledovatel'no, rastrevozhili i moyu dushu. Esli podschitat' primerno, skol'ko shkur ukrala u nas segodnya "Makedoniya", to, uchityvaya poslednie ceny na kotikovye shkury na londonskom rynke, "Prizrak" poteryal tysyachi poltory dollarov, nikak ne men'she. "You speak so calmly - " she began. -- Vy govorite ob etom tak spokojno... -- nachala ona. "But I do not feel calm; I could kill the man who robbed me," he interrupted. "Yes, yes, I know, and that man my brother - more sentiment! Bah!" -- No ya sovsem ne spokoen, -- perebil on. -- YA mog by ubit' togo, kto menya ograbil. Da, da, ya znayu -- on moj brat! VzdorSantimenty! His face underwent a sudden change. His voice was less harsh and wholly sincere as he said: Vnezapno vyrazhenie ego lica izmenilos', i on progovoril menee rezko i s notkoj iskrennosti v golose: "You must be happy, you sentimentalists, really and truly happy at dreaming and finding things good, and, because you find some of them good, feeling good yourself. Now, tell me, you two, do you find me good?" -- Vy, lyudi sentimental'nye, dolzhny byt' schastlivy, poistine schastlivy, mechtaya o chem-to svoem i nahodya v zhizni chto-to horoshee. Najdete chto-nibud' horoshee i, glyadish', sami sebya chuvstvuete horoshimi. A vot skazhite-ka mne, vy oba, est' chto-nibud' horoshee vo mne? "You are good to look upon - in a way," I qualified. -- Vneshne vy, po-svoemu, sovsem neplohi, -- opredelil ya. "There are in you all powers for good," was Maud Brewster's answer. -- V vas zalozheno vse, chtoby tvorit' dobro, -- otvechala Mod Bruster. "There you are!" he cried at her, half angrily. "Your words are empty to me. There is nothing clear and sharp and definite about the thought you have expressed. You cannot pick it up in your two hands and look at it. In point of fact, it is not a thought. It is a feeling, a sentiment, a something based upon illusion and not a product of the intellect at all." -- Tak ya i znal! -- serdito voskliknul on. -- Vashi slova dlya menya pustoj zvuk. V tom, kak vy vyrazili svoyu mysl', net nichego yasnogo, chetkogo, opredelennogo. Ee nel'zya vzyat' v ruki i rassmotret'. Sobstvenno govorya, eto dazhe ne mysl'. |to vpechatlenie, santiment, vyrosshij iz illyuzii, no vovse ne plod razuma. As he went on his voice again grew soft, and a confiding note came into it. "Do you know, I sometimes catch myself wishing that I, too, were blind to the facts of life and only knew its fancies and illusions. They're wrong, all wrong, of course, and contrary to reason; but in the face of them my reason tells me, wrong and most wrong, that to dream and live illusions gives greater delight. And after all, delight is the wage for living. Without delight, living is a worthless act. To labour at living and be unpaid is worse than to be dead. He who delights the most lives the most, and your dreams and unrealities are less disturbing to you and more gratifying than are my facts to me." Ponemnogu ego golos smyagchilsya, i v nem snova prozvuchala iskrennyaya notka. -- Vidite li, ya tozhe poroj lovlyu sebya na zhelanii byt' slepym k faktam zhizni i zhit' illyuziyami i vymyslami. Oni lzhivy, naskvoz' lzhivy, oni protivorechat zdravomu smyslu. I, nesmotrya na eto, moj razum podskazyvaet mne, chto vysshee naslazhdenie v tom i sostoit, chtoby mechtat' i zhit' illyuziyami, hot' oni i lzhivy. A ved' v konce-to koncov naslazhdenie -- edinstvennaya nasha nagrada v zhizni. Ne bud' naslazhdeniya -- ne stoilo by i zhit'. Vzyat' na sebya trud zhit' i nichego ot zhizni ne poluchat' -- da eto zhe huzhe, chem byt' trupom. Kto bol'she naslazhdaetsya, tot i zhivet polnee, a vas vse vashi vymysly i fantazii ogorchayut men'she, a teshat bol'she, chem menya -- moi fakty. He shook his head slowly, pondering. On medlenno, zadumchivo pokachal golovoj. "I often doubt, I often doubt, the worthwhileness of reason. Dreams must be more substantial and satisfying. Emotional delight is more filling and lasting than intellectual delight; and, besides, you pay for your moments of intellectual delight by having the blues. Emotional delight is followed by no more than jaded senses which speedily recuperate. I envy you, I envy you." -- CHasto, ochen' chasto ya somnevayus' v cennosti chelovecheskogo razuma. Mechty, veroyatno, dayut nam bol'she, chem razum, prinosyat bol'she udovletvoreniya. |mocional'noe naslazhdenie polnee i dlitel'nee intellektual'nogo, ne govorya uzh o tom, chto za mgnoveniya intellektual'noj radosti potom rasplachivaesh'sya chernoj melanholiej. A emocional'noe udovletvorenie vlechet za soboj lish' legkoe prituplenie chuvstv, kotoroe skoro prohodit. YA zaviduyu vam, zaviduyu vam! He stopped abruptly, and then on his lips formed one of his strange quizzical smiles, as he added: On vnezapno oborval svoyu rech', i po gubam ego skol'znula znakomaya mne strannaya usmeshka. "It's from my brain I envy you, take notice, and not from my heart. My reason dictates it. The envy is an intellectual product. I am like a sober man looking upon drunken men, and, greatly weary, wishing he, too, were drunk." -- No ya zaviduyu vam umom, a ne serdcem, zamet'te. Zavist' -- produkt mozga, ee diktuet mne moj razum. Tak trezvyj chelovek, kotoromu nadoela ego trezvost', zhaleet, glyadya na p'yanyh, chto on sam ne p'yan. "Or like a wise man looking upon fools and wishing he, too, were a fool," I laughed. -- Vy hotite skazat': tak umnik glyadit na durakov i zhaleet, chto on sam ne durak, -- zasmeyalsya ya. "Quite so," he said. "You are a blessed, bankrupt pair of fools. You have no facts in your pocketbook." -- Vot imenno, -- otvechal on. -- Vy para blazhennyh, obankrotivshihsya durakov. U vas net ni odnogo fakta za dushoj. "Yet we spend as freely as you," was Maud Brewster's contribution. -- Odnako my zhivem na svoi cennosti ne huzhe vas, -- vozrazila Mod Bruster. "More freely, because it costs you nothing." -- Dazhe luchshe, potomu chto vam eto nichego ne stoit. "And because we draw upon eternity," she retorted. -- I eshche potomu, chto my berem v dolg u vechnosti. "Whether you do or think you do, it's the same thing. You spend what you haven't got, and in return you get greater value from spending what you haven't got than I get from spending what I have got, and what I have sweated to get." -- Tak li eto, ili vy tol'ko voobrazhaete, chto eto tak, -- ne imeet znacheniya. Vse ravno vy tratite to, chego u vas net, a vzamen priobretaete bol'shie cennosti, chem ya, tratyashchij to, chto u menya est' i chto ya dobyl v pote lica svoego. "Why don't you change the basis of your coinage, then?" she queried teasingly. -- Pochemu zhe vy ne perevedete svoj kapital v druguyu valyutu? -- nasmeshlivo sprosila ona. He looked at her quickly, half-hopefully, and then said, all regretfully: "Too late. I'd like to, perhaps, but I can't. My pocketbook is stuffed with the old coinage, and it's a stubborn thing. I can never bring myself to recognize anything else as valid." On bystro, s ten'yu nadezhdy, vzglyanul na nee i, pomolchav, otvetil so vzdohom: -- Pozdno. YA by i rad, pozhaluj, da ne mogu. Ves' moj kapital -- v valyute starogo vypuska, i mne ot nee ne izbavit'sya. YA ne mogu zastavit' sebya priznat' cennost' kakoj-libo drugoj valyuty, krome moej. He ceased speaking, and his gaze wandered absently past her and became lost in the placid sea. The old primal melancholy was strong upon him. He was quivering to it. He had reasoned himself into a spell of the blues, and within few hours one could look for the devil within him to be up and stirring. I remembered Charley Furuseth, and knew this man's sadness as the penalty which the materialist ever pays for his materialism. On umolk. Vzglyad ego, rasseyanno skol'znuv po ee licu, zateryalsya gde-to v sinej morskoj dali. Zverinaya toska snova ovladel