HE SHOOK hands with me: "Well, there you are, on your own, appointed officially under my re-sponsibility."
He was actually walking with me to the door.
What a distance off it seemed! I moved like a man in bonds.But we reached it at last.I opened it with the sensation of dealing with mere dream-stuff, and then at the last moment the fellowship of seamen asserted itself, stronger than the differ-ence of age and station.It asserted itself in Captain Ellis' voice.
"Good-bye--and good luck to you," he said so heartily that I could only give him a grateful glance.Then I turned and went out, never to see him again in my life.I had not made three steps into the outer office when I heard behind my back a gruff, loud, authoritative voice, the voice of our deputy-Neptune.
It was addressing the head Shipping-Master who, having let me in, had, apparently, remained hovering in the middle distance ever since "Mr.R., let the harbour launch have steam up to take the captain here on board the Melita at half-past nine to-night."
1
My new dignity sat yet so lightly on me that I was not aware that it was I, the Captain, the object of this last graciousness.It seemed as if all of a sud-den a pair of wings had grown on my shoulders.Imerely skimmed along the polished floor.
But R.was impressed.
"I say!" he exclaimed on the landing, while the Malay crew of the steam-launch standing by looked stonily at the man for whom they were going to be kept on duty so late, away from their gambling, from their girls, or their pure domestic joys."Isay! His own launch.What have you done to him?"His stare was full of respectful curiosity.I was quite confounded.
"Was it for me? I hadn't the slightest notion,"I stammered out.
He nodded many times."Yes.And the last person who had it before you was a Duke.So, there!"I think he expected me to faint on the spot.
But I was in too much of a hurry for emotional displays.My feelings were already in such a whirl that this staggering information did not seem to make the slightest difference.It merely fell into the seething cauldron of my brain, and I carried it off with me after a short but effusive passage of leave-taking with R.
The favour of the great throws an aureole round the fortunate object of its selection.That ex-cellent man enquired whether he could do anything for me.He had known me only by sight, and he was well aware he would never see me again; I was, in common with the other seamen of the port, merely a subject for official writing, filling up of forms with all the artificial superiority of a man of pen and ink to the men who grapple with realities outside the consecrated walls of official buildings.
What ghosts we must have been to him! Mere symbols to juggle with in books and heavy registers, without brains and muscles and per-plexities; something hardly useful and decidedly inferior.
And he--the office hours being over--wanted to know if he could be of any use to me!
I ought--properly speaking--I ought to have been moved to tears.But I did not even think of it.
It was merely another miraculous manifestation of that day of miracles.I parted from him as if he were a mere symbol.I floated down the staircase.
I floated out of the official and imposing portal.Iwent on floating along.
I use that word rather than the word "flew," be-cause I have a distinct impression that, though up-lifted by my aroused youth, my movements were deliberate enough.To that mixed white, brown, and yellow portion of mankind, out abroad on their own affairs, I presented the appearance of a man walking rather sedately.And nothing in the way of abstraction could have equalled my deep de-tachment from the forms and colours of this world.
It was, as it were, final.
And yet, suddenly, I recognized Hamilton.Irecognized him without effort, without a shock, without a start.There he was, strolling toward the Harbour Office with his stiff, arrogant dignity.
His red face made him noticeable at a distance.It flamed, over there, on the shady side of the street.
He had perceived me, too.Something (uncon-scious exuberance of spirits perhaps) moved me to wave my hand to him elaborately.This lapse from good taste happened before I was aware that I was capable of it.
The impact of my impudence stopped him short, much as a bullet might have done.I verily believe he staggered, though as far as I could see he didn't actually fall.I had gone past in a moment and did not turn my head.I had forgotten his existence.
The next ten minutes might have been ten seconds or ten centuries for all my consciousness had to do with it.People might have been falling dead around me, houses crumbling, guns firing, I wouldn't have known.I was thinking: "By Jove! I have got it." IT being the command.It had come about in a way utterly unforeseen in my modest day-dreams.
I perceived that my imagination had been run-ning in conventional channels and that my hopes had always been drab stuff.I had envisaged a command as a result of a slow course of promotion in the employ of some highly respectable firm.
The reward of faithful service.Well, faithful service was all right.One would naturally give that for one's own sake, for the sake of the ship, for the love of the life of one's choice; not for the sake of the reward.
There is something distasteful in the notion of a reward.
And now here I had my command, absolutely in my pocket, in a way undeniable indeed, but most unexpected; beyond my imaginings, outside all reasonable expectations, and even notwithstanding the existence of some sort of obscure intrigue to keep it away from me.It is true that the intrigue was feeble, but it helped the feeling of wonder--as if I had been specially destined for that ship I did not know, by some power higher than the prosaic agencies of the commercial world.
A strange sense of exultation began to creep into me.If I had worked for that command ten years or more there would have been nothing of the kind.
I was a little frightened.
"Let us be calm," I said to myself.
