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Elisha Cuthbert Photos Books: Martin Eden The Pickwick Papers The Sea Wolf |
had done, he could
see that it had been an object-lesson to me, and he became more
domineering and exultant. Also there was a lust in him, akin to
madness, which had come with sight of the blood he had drawn. He
was beginning to see red in whatever direction he looked. The
psychology of it is sadly tangled, and yet I could read the
workings of his mind as clearly as though it were a printed book.
Several days went by, the Ghost still foaming down the trades, and
I could swear I saw madness growing in Thomas Mugridges eyes. And
I confess that I became afraid, very much afraid. Whet, whet,
whet, it went all day long. The look in his eyes as he felt the
keen edge and glared at me was positively carnivorous. I was
afraid to turn my shoulder to him, and when I left the galley I
went out backwards--to the amusement of the sailors and hunters,
who made a point of gathering in groups to witness my exit. The
strain was too great. I sometimes thought my mind would give way
under it--a meet thing on this ship of madmen and brutes. Every
hour, every minute of my existence was in jeopardy. I was a human
soul in distress, and yet no soul, fore or aft, betrayed sufficient
sympathy to come to my aid. At times I thought of throwing myself
on the mercy of Wolf Larsen, but the vision of the mocking devil in
his eyes that questioned life and sneered at it would come strong
upon me and compel me to refrain. At other times I seriously
contemplated suicide, and the whole force of my hopeful philosophy
was required to keep me from going over the side in the darkness of
night.
Several times Wolf Larsen tried to inveigle me into discussion, but
I gave him short answers and eluded him. Finally, he commanded me
to resume my seat at the cabin table for a time and let the cook do
my work. Then I spoke frankly, telling him what I was enduring
from Thomas Mugridge because of the three days of favouritism which
had been shown me. Wolf Larsen regarded me with smiling eyes.
"So youre afraid, eh?" he sneered.
"Yes," I said defiantly and honestly, "I am afraid."
"Thats the way with you fellows," he cried, half angrily,
"sentimentalizing about your immortal souls and afraid to die. At
sight of a sharp knife and a cowardly Cockney the clinging of life
to life overcomes all your fond foolishness. Why, my dear fellow,
you will live for ever. You are a god, and God cannot be killed.
Cooky cannot hurt you. You are sure of your resurrection. Whats
there to be afraid of?
"You have eternal life before you. You are a millionaire in
immortality, and a millionaire whose fortune cannot be lost, whose
fortune is less perishable than the stars and as lasting as space
or time. It is impossible for you to diminish your principal.
Immortality is a thing without beginning or end. Eternity is
eternity, and though you die here and now you will go on living
somewhere else and hereafter. And it is all very beautiful, this
shaking off of the flesh and soaring of the imprisoned spirit.
Cooky cannot hurt you. He can only give you a boost on the path
you eternally must tread.
"Or, if you do not wish to be boosted just yet, why not boost
Cooky? According to your ideas, he, too, must be an immortal
millionaire. You cannot bankrupt him. His paper will always
circulate at par. You cannot diminish the length of his living by
killing him, for he is without beginning or end. Hes bound to go
on living, somewhere, somehow. Then boost him. Stick a knife in
him and let his spirit free. As it is, its in a nasty prison, and
youll do him only a kindness by breaking down the door. And who
knows?--it may be a very beautiful spirit that will go soaring up
into the blue from that ugly carcass. Boost him along, and Ill
promote you to his place, and hes getting forty-five dollars a
month."
It was plain that I could look for no help or mercy from Wolf
Larsen. Whatever was to be done I must do The Sea Wolf page 35 The Sea Wolf page 37 |