第5章

Whohasnotseenpoorbirdscaughtbytheirfeetinthelime？Atfirsttheycanscarcelybelievetheyarecaught；itchangesnothingintheiraspect；buttheysoonaresurethattheyareheldfast，andindangerofnevergettingfreeagain。Andwhentheystruggletogetfree，andthestickystuffsoilstheirwingsandheads，theygraduallyassumethatpitifullookofadumbcreatureindistress，abouttodie。Suchwasthecasewiththe/Marie/。Atfirstitdidnotseemmuchtobeconcernedabout；shecertainlywascareenedalittleononeside，butitwasbroadmorning，andtheweatherwasfairandcalm；onehadtoknowsuchthingsbyexperiencetobecomeuneasy，andunderstandthatitwasaseriousmatter。 Thecaptainwastobepitied。Itwashisfault，ashehadnotunderstoodexactlywheretheywere。Hewrunghishands，saying:\"Godhelpus!Godhelpus!\"inavoiceofdespair。 Closetothem，duringaliftingofthefog，theycoulddistinguishaheadland，butnotrecognizeit。Butthemistscovereditanew，andtheysawitnolonger。 Therewasnosailorsmokeinsight。Theyalljostledabout，hurryingandknockingthedecklumberover。TheirdogTurc，whodidnotusuallymindthemovementofthesea，wasgreatlyaffectedtoobythisincident，thesesoundsfromdownbelow，theseheavywallowingswhenthelowswellpassedunder，andthesuddencalmthatafterwardsfollowed；heunderstoodthatallthiswasunusual，andhidhimselfawayincorners，withhistailbetweenhislegs。Theygotouttheboatstocarrythekedgesandsetthemfirm，andtriedtorowheroutofitbyunitingalltheirforcestogetheruponthetow-lines——aheavypieceofworkthis，whichlastedtensuccessivehours。So，wheneveningcame，thepoorbark，whichhadonlythatmorningbeensofreshandlight，lookedalmostswamped，fouled，andgoodfornothing。Shehadfoughthard，flounderedaboutonallsides，butstillremainedthere，fixedasinadock。 Nightwasovertakingthem；thewindandthewaveswererising；thingsweregrowingworse，when，allofasudden，towardssixo\'clock，theywereletgoclear，andcouldbeoffagain，tearingasunderthetow- lines，whichtheyhadlefttokeepherheadsteady。Themenwept，rushingaboutlikemadmen，cheeringfromstemtostern——\"We\'reafloat，boys!\" Theywereafloat，withajoythatcannotbedescribed；whatitwastofeelthemselvesgoingforwardsonabuoyantcraftagain，insteadofonthesemi-wreckitwasbefore，nonebutaseamanfeels，andfewofthemcantell。 Yann\'ssadnesshaddisappearedtoo。Likehisship，hebecamelivelyoncemore，curedbythehealthymanuallabour；hehadfoundhisrecklesslookagain，andhadthrownoffhisglumthoughts。 Nextmorning，whenthekedgeswerefishedup，the/Marie/wentonherwaytoIceland，andYann\'sheart，toallappearance，wasasfreeasinhisearlyyears。 CHAPTERXIII HOMENEWS Thehomeletterswerebeingdistributedonboardthe/Circe/，atanchoratHa-Long，overontheothersideoftheearth。Inthemidstofagroupofsailors，thepursercalledout，inaloudvoice，thenamesofthefortunatemenwhohadletterstoreceive。Thiswentonatevening，ontheship\'sside，allcrushingroundafunnel。 \"Moan，Sylvestre!\"Therewasoneforhim，postmarked\"Paimpol，\"butitwasnotGaud\'swriting。Whatdidthatmean？fromwhomdiditcomeelse？ Afterhavingturnedandflourisheditabout，heopeneditfearingly，andread: \"PLOUBAZLANEC，March5th，1884。 \"MYDEARGRANDSON:\" So，itwasfromhisdearoldgranny。Hebreathedfreeagain。Atthebottomofthelettersheevenhadplacedhersignature，learnedbyheart，buttremblinglikeaschool-girl\'sscribble:\"WidowMoan。\" \"WidowMoan!\"Withaquickspontaneousmovementhecarriedthepapertohislipsandkissedthepoorname，asasacredrelic。Forthisletterarrivedatacriticalmomentofhislife；to-morrowatdawn，hewastosetoutforthebattlefield。 ItwasinthemiddleofApril；Bac-NinhandHong-Hoahadjustbeentaken。TherewasnogreatwarfaregoingoninTonquin，yetthereinforcementsarrivingwerenotsufficient；sailorsweretakenfromalltheshipstomakeupthedeficitinthecorpsalreadydisembarked。 Sylvestre，whohadlanguishedsolonginthemidstofcruisesandblockades，hadjustbeenselectedwithsomeotherstofillupthevacancies。 Itistruethatnowpeacewasspokenof，butsomethingtoldthemthattheyyetwoulddisembarckingoodtimetofightabit。Theypackedtheirbags，madealltheirotherpreparations，andsaidgood-bye，andalltheeveningthroughtheystrolledaboutwiththeirunfortunatemateswhohadtoremain，feelingmuchgranderandprouderthanthey。 Eachinhisownwayshowedhisimpressionatthisdeparture——someweregraveandserious，othersexuberantandtalkative。 Sylvestrewasveryquietandthoughtful，thoughimpatient；only，whentheylookedathim，hissmileseemedtosay，\"Yes，I\'moneofthefightingparty，andhuzza!theactionisforto-morrowmorning!\" Ofgunshotsandbattleheformedbutanincompleteideaasyet；buttheyfascinatedhim，forhecameofavaliantrace。 ThestrangewritingofhislettermadehimanxiousaboutGaud，andhedrewnearaportholetoreadtheepistlethrough。Itwasdifficultamidallthosehalf-nakedmenpressinground，intheunbearableheatofthegundeck。 Ashethoughtshewoulddo，inthebeginningofherletterGrannyMoanexplainedwhyshehadhadtotakerecoursetotheinexperiencedhandofanoldneighbour: \"Mydearchild，Idon\'taskyourcousintowriteformeto-day，assheisingreattrouble。Herfatherdiedsuddenlytwodaysago。ItappearsthathiswholefortunehasbeenlostthroughunluckygamblinglastwinterinParis。Sohishouseandfurniturewillhavetobesold。Nobodyintheplacewasexpectingthis。Ithink，dearchild，thatthiswillpainyouasmuchasitdoesme。 \"Gaos，theson，sendsyouhiskindremembrance；hehasrenewedhisarticleswithCaptainGuermeurofthe/Marie/，andthedepartureforIcelandwasratherearlythisyear，fortheysetsailonthefirstofthemonth，twodaysbeforeourpoorGaud\'strouble，andhedon\'tknowofityet。 \"Butyoucaneasilyimaginethatweshallnotgetthemwednow，forshewillbeobligedtoworkforherdailybread。\" Sylvestredweltstupor-stricken；thisbadnewsquitespoiledhisgleeatgoingouttofight。 PARTIII INTHESHADOW CHAPTERI THESKIRMISH Hark!abullethurtlesthroughtheair! Sylvestrestopsshorttolisten! Heisuponaninfinitemeadow，greenwiththesoftvelvetcarpetofspring。Theskyisgray，lowering，asiftoweighuponone\'sveryshoulders。 Theyaresixsailorsreconnoitringamongthefreshrice-fields，inamuddypathway。 Hist!againthewhizz，breakingthesilenceoftheair——ashrill，continuoussound，akindofprolonged/zing/，givingoneastrongimpressionthatthepelletsbuzzingbymighthavestungfatally。 ForthefirsttimeinhislifeSylvestrehearsthatmusic。Thebulletscomingtowardsamanhaveadifferentsoundfromthosefiredbyhimself:thefar-offreportisattenuated，ornotheardatall，soitiseasiertodistinguishthesharprushofmetalasitswiftlypassesby，almostgrazingone\'sears。 Crack!whizz!ping!againandyetagain!Theballsfallinregularshowersnow。Closebythesailorstheystopshort，andareburiedinthefloodedsoiloftherice-fields，accompaniedbyafaintsplash，likehailfallingsharpandswiftinapuddleofwater。 Themarineslookedatoneanotherasifitwasallapieceofoddfun，andsaid: \"OnlyJohnChinaman!pish!\" Tothesailors，Annamites，Tonquinese，or\"BlackFlags\"areallofthesameChinesefamily。Itisdifficulttoshowtheircontemptandmockingrancour，aswellaseagernessfor\"bowlingoverthebeggars，\" whentheyspeakof\"theChinese。\" Twoorthreebulletsarestillflyingabout，morecloselygrazing； theycanbeseenbouncinglikegrasshoppersinthegreen。Theslightshowerofleaddidnotlastlong。 Perfectsilencereturnstothebroadverdantplain，andnowherecananythingbeseenmoving。Thesamesixarestillthere，standingonthewatch，scentingthebreeze，andtryingtodiscoverwhencethevolleycame。Surelyfromoveryonder，bythatclumpofbamboos，whichlookslikeanislandoffeathersintheplain；behinditseveralpointedroofsappearhalfhidden。Sotheyallmadeforit，theirfeetslippingorsinkingintothesoakedsoil。Sylvestrerunsforemost，onhislonger，morenimblelegs。 Nomorebuzzofbullets；theymighthavethoughttheyweredreaming。 Asinallthecountriesoftheworld，somefeaturesarethesame；thecloudygrayskiesandthefreshtintsoffieldsinspring-time，forexample；onecouldimaginethisuponFrenchmeadows，andtheseyoungfellows，runningmerrilyoverthem，playingaverydifferentsportfromthisgameofdeath。 Butastheyapproach，thebamboosshowtheexoticdelicacyoftheirfoliage，andthevillageroofsgrowsharperinthesingularityoftheircurves，andyellowmenhiddenbehindadvancetoreconnoitre； theirflatfacesarecontractedbyfearandspitefulness。Thensuddenlytheyrushoutscreaming，anddeployintoalongline，trembling，butdecidedanddangerous。 \"TheChinese!\"shoutthesailorsagain，withtheirsamebravesmile。 Butthistimetheyfindthatthereareagoodmany——toomany；andoneofthemturningroundperceivesotherChinesecomingfrombehind，springingupfromthelongtallgrass。 Atthismoment，youngSylvestrecameoutgrand；hisoldgrannywouldhavebeenproudtoseehimsuchawarrior。Sincethelastfewdayshehadaltered。Hisfacewasbronzed，andhisvoicestrengthened。Hewasinhisownelementhere。 Inamomentofsupremeindecisionthesailorshitbythebulletsalmostyieldedtoanimpulseofretreat，whichwouldcertainlyhavebeendeathtothemall；butSylvestrecontinuedtoadvance，clubbinghisrifle，andfightingawholeband，knockingthemdownrightandleftwithsmashingblowsfromthebutt-end。Thankstohimthesituationwasreversed；thatpanicormadnessthatblindlydeceivesallintheseleaderlessskirmisheshadnowpassedovertotheChineseside，anditwastheywhobegantoretreat。 Itwassoonallover；theywerefairlytakingtotheirheels。Thesixsailors，reloadingtheirrepeatingrifles，shotthemdowneasily；uponthegrasslaydeadbodiesbyredpools，andskullswereemptyingtheirbrainsintotheriver。 Theyfled，coweringlikeleopards。Sylvestreranafterthem，althoughhehadtwowounds——alance-thrustinthethighandadeepgashinhisarm；butfeelingnothingsavetheintoxicationofbattle，thatunreasoningfeverthatcomesofvigorousblood，givesloftycouragetosimplesouls，andmadetheheroesofantiquity。 Onewhomhewaspursuingturnedround，andwithaspasmofdesperateterrortookadeliberateaimathim。Sylvestrestoppedshort，smilingscornfully，sublime，tolethimfire，andseeingthedirectionoftheaim，onlyshiftedalittletotheleft。ButwiththepressureuponthetriggerthebarreloftheChinesejingaldeviatedslightlyinthesamedirection。Hesuddenlyfeltasmartrapuponhisbreast，andinaflashofthoughtunderstoodwhatitwas，evenbeforefeelinganypain； heturnedtowardstheothersfollowing，andtriedtocryouttothemthetraditionalphraseoftheoldsoldier，\"Ithinkit\'sallupwithme!\"Inthegreatbreaththatheinhaledafterhavingrun，torefillhislungswithair，hefelttheairrushinalsobyaholeinhisrightbreast，withahorriblegurgling，liketheblastinabrokenbellows。Inthatsametimehismouthfilledwithblood，andasharppainshotthroughhisside，whichrapidlygrewworse，untilitbecameatrociousandunspeakable。Hewhirledroundtwoorthreetimes，hisbrainswimmingtoo；andgaspingforbreaththroughtherisingredtidethatchokedhim，fellheavilyinthemud。 CHAPTERII \"OUT，BRIEFCANDLE!\" Aboutafortnightlater，astheskywasdarkeningattheapproachoftherains，andtheheatmoreheavilyweighedoveryellowTonquin，SylvestrebroughttoHanoi，wassenttoHa-Long，andplacedonboardahospital-shipabouttoreturntoFrance。 Hehadbeencarriedaboutforsometimeondifferentstretchers，withintervalsofrestattheambulances。Theyhaddonealltheycouldforhim；butundertheinsufficientconditions，hischesthadfilledwithwateronthepiercedside，andthegurglingairenteredthroughthewound，whichwouldnotcloseup。 Hehadreceivedthemilitarymedal，whichgavehimamoment\'sjoy。Buthewasnolongerthewarriorofold——resoluteofgait，andsteadyinhisresoundingvoice。Allthathadvanishedbeforethelong-sufferingandweakeningfever。Hehadbecomeahome-sickboyagain；hehardlyspokeexceptinansweringoccasionalquestions，inafeebleandalmostinaudiblevoice。Tofeeloneselfsosickandsofaraway；tothinkthatitwantedsomanydaysbeforehecouldreachhome!Wouldheeverliveuntilthen，withhisstrengthebbingaway？Suchaterrifyingfeelingofdistancecontinuallyhauntedhimandweighedateverywakening；andwhen，afterafewhours\'stupor，heawokefromthesickeningpainofhiswounds，withfeverishheatandthewhistlingsoundinhispiercedbosom，heimploredthemtoputhimonboard，inspiteofeverything。Hewasveryheavytocarryintohisward，andwithoutintendingit，theygavehimsomecrueljoltsontheway。 Theylaidhimononeoftheironcampbedsteadsplacedinrows，hospitalfashion，andthenhesetoutinaninversedirection，onhislongjourneythroughtheseas。Insteadoflivinglikeabirdinthefullwindofthetops，heremainedbelowdeck，inthemidstofthebadairofmedicines，wounds，andmisery。 Duringthefirstdaysthejoyofbeinghomewardboundmadehimfeelalittlebetter。Hecouldevenbearbeingproppedupinbedwithpillows，andattimesheaskedforhisbox。Hisseaman\'schestwasadealbox，boughtinPaimpol，tokeepallhislovedtreasuresin； insidewerelettersfromGrannyYvonne，andalsofromYannandGaud，acopy-bookintowhichhehadcopiedsomesea-songs，andoneoftheworksofConfuciusinChinese，caughtupatrandomduringpillage；ontheblanksidesofitsleaveshehadwrittenthesimpleaccountofhiscampaign。 Neverthelesshegotnobetter，andafterthefirstweek，thedoctorsdecidedthatdeathwasimminent。TheywereneartheLinenow，inthestiflingheatofstorms。Thetroop-shipkeptonhercourse，shakingherbeds，thewoundedandthedying；quickerandquickershespedoverthetossingsea，troubledstillasduringtheswayofthemonsoons。 SinceleavingHa-Longmorethanonepatientdied，andwasconsignedtothedeepwateronthehighroadtoFrance；manyofthenarrowbedsnolongerboretheirsufferingburdens。 Uponthisparticulardayitwasverygloomyinthetravellinghospital；onaccountofthehighseasithadbeennecessarytoclosetheironport-lids，whichmadethestiflingsick-roommoreunbearable。 Sylvestrewasworse；theendwasnigh。Lyingalwaysuponhiswoundedside，hepresseduponitwithbothhandswithallhisremainingstrength，totryandallaythewaterydecompositionthatroseinhisrightlung，andtobreathewiththeotherlungonly。Butbydegreestheotherwasaffectedandtheultimateagonyhadbegun。 Dreamsandvisionsofhomehauntedhisbrain；inthehotdarkness，belovedorhorriblefacesbentoverhim；hewasinanever-endinghallucination，throughwhichfloatedapparitionsofBrittanyandIceland。Inthemorningwascalledinthepriest，andtheoldman，whowasusedtoseeingsailorsdie，wasastonishedtofindsopureasoulinsostrongandmanlyabody。 Hecriedoutforair，air!buttherewasnoneanywhere；theventilatorsnolonggaveany；theattendant，whowasfanninghimwithaChinesefan，onlymovedunhealthyvapoursoverhimofsickeningstaleness，whichrevoltedalllungs。Sometimesfierce，desperatefitscameoverhim；hewishedtotearhimselfawayfromthatbed，wherehefeltdeathwouldcometoseizehim，andrushaboveintothefullfreshwindandtrytoliveagain。Oh!tobelikethoseothers，scramblingaboutamongtherigging，andlivingamongthemasts。Buthisextremeeffortonlyendedinthefeebleliftingofhisweakenedhead； somethingliketheincompletedmovementofasleeper。Hecouldnotmanageit，butfellbackinthehollowofhiscrumpledbed，partlychainedtherebydeath；andeachtime，afterthefatigueofalikeshock，helostallconsciousness。 Topleasehimtheyopenedaportatlast，althoughitwasdangerous，theseabeingveryrough。Itwasgoingonforsixintheevening。Whenthediskwasswungback，aredlightentered，gloriousandradiant。 Thedyingsunappeareduponthehorizonindazzlingsplendour，throughatornriftinagloomysky；itsblindinglightglancedoverthewaves，andlitupthefloatinghospital，likeawavingtorch。 Butnoairrushedin；thelittletherewasoutside，waspowerlesstoenteranddrivebeforeitthefeveredatmosphere。Overallsidesofthatboundlessequatorialsea，floatedawarmandheavymoisture，unfitforrespiration。Noaironanyside，notevenforthepoorgaspingfellowsontheirdeathbeds。 Onevisiondisturbedhimgreatly；itwasofhisoldgrandmother，walkingquicklyalongaroad，withaheartrendinglookofalarm；fromlow-lyingfunerealcloudsaboveher，fellthedrizzlingrain；shewasonherwaytoPaimpol，summonedthithertobeinformedofhisdeath。 Hewasstrugglingnow，withthedeath-rattleinhisthroat。Fromthecornersofhismouththeyspongedawaythewaterandblood，whichhadwelledupinquantitiesfromhischestinwrithingagony。Stillthegrand，glorioussunlitupall，likeaconflagrationofthewholeworld，withblood-ladenclouds；throughtheapertureoftheport-hole，awidestreakofcrimsonfireblazedin，and，spreadingoverSylvestre\'sbed，formedahaloaroundhim。 AtthatverymomentthatsamesunwastobeseeninBrittany，wheremiddaywasabouttostrike。Itwas，indeed，thesamesun，beheldattheprecisemomentofitsnever-endinground；buthereitkeptquiteanotherhue。Higherupinthebluishsky，itkeptsheddingasoftwhitelightongrandmotherYvonne，sittingoutatherdoor，sewing。 InIceland，too，whereitwasmorning，itwasshiningatthatsamemomentofdeath。Muchpalerthere，itseemedasifitonlyshoweditsfacebysomemiracle。Sadlyitsheditsraysoverthefjordwhere/LaMarie/floated；andnowitsskywaslitupbyapurenorthernlight，whichalwaysgivestheideaofafrozenplanet\'sreflection，withoutanatmosphere。Withacoldaccuracy，itoutlinedalltheessentialsofthatstonychaosthatisIceland；thewholeofthecountryasseenfrom/LaMarie/seemedfixedinonesameperspectiveandheldupright。 Yannwasthere，litupbyastrangelight，fishing，asusual，inthemidstofthislunar-likescenery。 Asthebeamoffieryflamethatcamethroughtheport-holefaded，andthesundisappearedcompletelyunderthegildedbillows，theeyesofthegrandsonrolledinwardtowardhisbrowasiftofallbackintohishead。 Theyclosedhiseyelidswiththeirownlonglashes，andSylvestrebecamecalmandbeautifulagain，likearecliningmarblestatueofmanlyrepose。 CHAPTERIII THEGRAVEABROAD IcannotrefrainfromtellingyouaboutSylvestre\'sfuneral，whichI conductedmyselfinSingapore。WehadthrownenoughotherdeadintotheSeaofChina，duringtheearlydaysofthehomevoyage；andastheMalaylandwasquitenear，wedecidedtokeephisremainsafewhourslonger；toburyhimfittingly。 Itwasveryearlyinthemorning，onaccountoftheterriblesun。Intheboatthatcarriedhimashore，hiscorpsewasshroudedinthenationalflag。Thecitywasinsleepaswelanded。Awagonette，sentbytheFrenchConsul，waswaitingonthequay；welaidSylvestreuponit，withawoodencrossmadeonboard——thepaintstillwetuponit，forthecarpenterhadtohurryoverit，andthewhitelettersofhisnameranintotheblackground。 WecrossedthatBabelintherisingsun。AndthenitwassuchanemotiontofindtheserenecalmofanEuropeanplaceofworshipinthemidstofthedistastefulturmoiloftheChinesecountry。Underthehighwhitearch，whereIstoodalonewithmysailors，the\"/DiesIroe/，\"chantedbyamissionarypriest，soundedlikeasoftmagicalincantation。Throughtheopendoorswecouldseesightsthatresembledenchantedgardens，exquisiteverdureandimmensepalm-trees，thewindshookthelargefloweringshrubsandtheirperfumedcrimsonpetalsfelllikerain，almosttothechurchitself。Thencewemarchedtotheceremony，veryfaroff。Ourlittleprocessionofsailorswasveryunpretentious，butthecoffinremainedconspicuouslywrappedintheflagofFrance。WehadtotraversetheChinesequarter，throughseethingcrowdsofyellowmen；andthentheMalayandIndiansuburbs，wherealltypesofAsiaticfaceslookeduponuswithastonishment。 Thencametheopencountryalreadyheated；throughshadygroveswhereexquisitebutterflies，onvelvetybluewings，flittedinmasses。Oneitherside，wavedtallluxuriantpalms，andquantitiesofflowersinsplendidprofusion。Atlastwecametothecemetery，withmandarins\' tombsandmany-colouredinscriptions，adornedwithpaintingsofdragonsandothermonsters；amidastoundingfoliageandplantsgrowingeverywhere。ThespotwherewelaidhimdowntorestresembledanookinthegardensofIndra。Intotheearthwedrovethelittlewoodencross，lettered: SYLVESTREMOAN，AGED19。 Andwelefthim，forcedtogobecauseofthehotrisingsun；weturnedbackoncemoretolookathimunderthosemarvelloustreesandhugenoddingflowers。 CHAPTERIV TOTHESURVIVORS，THESPOILS ThetroopercontinueditscoursethroughtheIndianOcean。Downbelowinthefloatinghospitalotherdeath-sceneswenton。Ondecktherewascarelessnessofhealthandyouth。Roundabout，overthesea，wasaveryfeastofpuresunandair。 Inthisfinetrade-windweather，thesailors，stretchedintheshadeofthesails，wereplayingwithlittlepetparrotsandmakingthemrunraces。InthisSingapore，whichtheyhadjustleft，thesailorsbuyallkindsoftameanimals。Theyhadallchosenbabyparrots，withchildishlooksupontheirhooknosefaces；theyhadnotailsyet；theyweregreen，ofawonderfulshade。Astheywentrunningoverthecleanwhiteplanks，theylookedlikefreshyoungleaves，fallenfromtropicaltrees。 Sometimesthesailorsgatheredthemalltogetherinonelot，whentheyinspectedoneanotherfunnily；twistingabouttheirthroats，tobeseenunderallaspects。Theycomicallywaddledaboutlikesomanylamepeople，orsuddenlystartedoffinagreathurryforsomeunknowndestination；andsomefelldownintheirexcitement。Andthereweremonkeys，learningtricksofallkinds，anothersourceofamusement。 Someweremosttenderlylovedandevenkissedextravagantly，astheynestledagainstthecallousbosomsoftheirmasters，gazingfondlyatthemwithwomanisheyes，half-grotesqueandhalf-touching。 Uponthestrokeofthreeo\'clock，thequartermastersbroughtondecktwocanvasbags，sealedwithhugeredseals，bearingSylvestre\'sname； forbyorderoftheregulationsinregardtothedead，allhisclothesandpersonalworldlybelongingsweretobesoldbyauction。Thesailorsgailygroupedthemselvesaroundthepile；for，onboardahospitalship，toomanyofthesesalesofeffectsareseentoexciteanyparticularemotion。Besides，Sylvestrehadbeenbutlittleknownuponthatship。 Hisjacketsandshirtsandblue-stripedjerseyswerefingeredandturnedoverandthenboughtupatdifferentprices，thebuyersforcingthebiddingjusttoamusethemselves。 Thencametheturnofthesmalltreasure-box，whichwassoldforfiftysous。Thelettersandmilitarymedalhadbeentakenoutofit，tobesentbacktothefamily；butnotthebookofsongsandtheworkofConfucious，withtheneedles，cotton，andbuttons，andallthepettyrequisitesplacedtherebytheforethoughtofGrannyMoanforsewingandmending。 Thenthequartermasterwhoheldupthethingstobesolddrewouttwosmallbuddhas，takeninsomepagodatogivetoGaud，andsofunnyweretheythattheyweregreetedwithageneralburstoflaughter，whentheyappearedasthelastlot。Butthesailorslaughed，notforwantofheart，butonlythroughthoughtlessness。 Toconclude，thebagsweresold，andthebuyerimmediatelystruckoutthenameonthemtosubstitutehisown。 Acarefulsweepofthebroomwasafterwardgiventoclearthescrupulouslycleandeckofthedustandoddsandends，whilethesailorsreturnedmerrilytoplaywiththeirparrotsandmonkeys。 CHAPTERV THEDEATH-BLOW Oneday，inthefirstfortnightofJune，asoldYvonnewasreturninghome，someneighbourstoldherthatshehadbeensentforbytheCommissionerfromtheNavalRegistryOffice。Ofcourseitconcernedhergrandson，butthatdidnotfrightenherintheleast。ThefamiliesofseafarersareusedtotheNavalRegistry，andshe，thedaughter，wife，mother，andgrandmotherofseamen，hadknownthatofficeforthepastsixtyyears。 Doubtlessithadtodowithhis\"delegation\"；orperhapstherewasasmallprize-moneyaccountfrom/LaCirce/totakethroughherproxy。 Assheknewwhatrespectwasdueto\"/MonsieurleCommissaire/，\"sheputonherbestgownandacleanwhitecap，andsetoutabouttwoo\'clock。 Trottingalongswiftlyonthepathwaysofthecliff，shenearedPaimpol；andmusinguponthesetwomonthswithoutletters，shegrewabitanxious。 Shemetheroldsweetheartsittingoutathisdoor。Hehadgreatlyagedsincetheappearanceofthewintercold。 \"Eh，eh!Whenyou\'reready，youknow，don\'tmakeanyceremony，mybeauty!\"That\"suitofdeal\"stillhauntedhismind。 ThejoyousbrightnessofJunesmiledaroundher。Ontherockyheightstherestillgrewthestuntedreedswiththeiryellowblossoms；butpassingintothehollownooksshelteredagainstthebitterseawinds，onemetwithhighsweet-smellinggrass。Butthepooroldwomandidnotseeallthis，overwhoseheadsomanyrapidseasonshadpassed，whichnowseemedasshortasdays。 Aroundthecrumblinghamletwithitsgloomywallsgrewroses，pinks，andstocks；andevenuponthetopsofthewhitewashedandmossyroofs，sprangthefloweretsthatattractedthefirst\"miller\" butterfliesoftheseason。 Thisspring-timewasalmostwithoutloveinthelandofIcelanders，andthebeautifullassesofproudrace，whosatoutdreamingontheirdoorsteps，seemedtolookfarbeyondthevisiblethingswiththeirblueorbrowneyes。Theyoungmen，whoweretheobjectsoftheirmelancholyanddesires，wereremote，fishingonthenorthernseas。 Butitwasaspring-timeforallthat——warm，sweet，andtroubling，withitsbuzzingoffliesandperfumeofyoungplants。 Andallthissoullessfreshnesssmileduponthepooroldgrandmother，whowasquicklywalkingalongtohearofthedeathofherlast-borngrandson。Shenearedtheawfulmomentwhenthisevent，whichhadtakenplaceinthesodistantChineseseas，wastobetoldtoher；shewastakingthatsinisterwalkthatSylvestrehaddivinedathisdeath-hour——thesightofthathadtornhislastagonizedtearsfromhim；hisdarlingoldgrannysummonedtoPaimpoltobetoldthathewasdead! Clearlyhehadseenherpassalongthatroad，runningstraighton，withhertinybrownshawl，herumbrella，andlargehead-dress。Andthatapparitionhadmadehimtossandwritheinfearfulanguish，whilethehuge，redsunoftheEquator，disappearinginitsglory，peeredthroughtheport-holeofthehospitaltowatchhimdie。Buthe，inhislasthallucination，hadseenhisoldgrannymovingunderarain-ladensky，andonthecontraryajoyouslaughingspring-timemockedheronallsides。 NearingPaimpol，shebecamemoreandmoreuneasy，andimprovedherspeed。Nowsheisinthegraytownwithitsnarrowgranitestreets，wherethesunfalls，biddinggood-daytosomeotheroldwomen，hercontemporaries，sittingattheirwindows。Astonishedtoseeher；theysaid:\"Whereverisshegoingsoquickly，inherSundaygown，onaweek-day？\" \"MonsieurleCommissaire\"oftheNavalEnlistmentOfficewasnotinjustthen。Oneuglylittlecreature，aboutfifteenyearsold，whowashisclerk，satathisdesk。Ashewastoopunytobeafisher，hehadreceivedsomeeducationandpassedhistimeinthatsamechair，inhisblacklinendust-sleeves，scratchingawayatpaper。 Withalookofimportance，whenshehadsaidhername，hegotuptogettheofficialdocumentsfromoffashelf。 Therewereagreatmanypapers——whatdiditallmean？Parchments，sealedpapers，asailor\'srecord-book，grownyellowonthesea，andoverallfloatedanodourofdeath。Hespreadthemalloutbeforethepooroldwoman，whobegantotrembleandfeeldizzy。ShehadjustrecognizedtwooftheletterswhichGaudusedtowriteforhertohergrandson，andwhichwerenowreturnedtoherneverunsealed。ThesamethinghadhappenedtwentyyearsagoatthedeathofhersonPierre； thelettershadbeensentbackfromChinato\"MonsieurleCommissaire，\"whohadgiventhemtoherthus。 Nowhewasreadingoutinaconsequentialvoice:\"Moan，Jean-Marie- Sylvestre，registeredatPaimpol，folio213，number2091，diedonboardthe/BienHoa/，onthe14thof。\" \"What——whathashappenedtohim，mygoodsir？\" \"Discharged——dead，\"heanswered。 Itwasn\'tbecausethisclerkwasunkind，butifhespokeinthatbrutalway，itwasthroughwantofjudgment，andfromlackofintelligenceinthelittleincompletebeing。 Ashesawthatshedidnotunderstandthattechnicalexpression，hesaidinBreton: \"/Marweo/!\" \"/Marweo/!\"(Heisdead。) Sherepeatedthewordsafterhim，inheragedtremulousvoice，asapoorcrackedechowouldsendbacksomeindifferentphrase。Sowhatshehadpartlyforeseenwastrue；butitonlymadehertremble；nowthatitwascertain，itseemedtoaffecthernomore。Tobeginwith，herfacultytosufferwasslightlydulledbyoldage，especiallysincethislastwinter。Paindidnotstrikeherimmediately。Somethingseemedtofallupsidedowninherbrain，andsomehoworanothershemixedthisdeathupwithothers。Shehadlostsomanyofthembefore。 Sheneededamomenttograspthatthiswasherverylastone，herdarling，theobjectofallherprayers，life，andwaiting，andofallherthoughts，alreadydarkenedbythesombreapproachofsecondchildhood。 Shefeltasortofshameatshowingherdespairbeforethislittlegentlemanwhohorrifiedher。Wasthatthewaytotellagrandmotherofherdarling\'sdeath？Sheremainedstandingbeforethedesk，stiffened，andtearingthefringesofherbrownshawlwithherpooragedhands，soreandchappedwithwashing。 Howfarawayshefeltfromhome!Goodness!whatalongwalkbacktobegonethrough，andsteadily，too，beforenearingthewhitewashedhutinwhichshelongedtoshutherselfup，likeawoundedbeastwhohidesinitsholetodie。Andsoshetriednottothinktoomuchandnottounderstandyet，frightenedaboveallatthelonghome-journey。 Theygaveheranordertogoandtake，astheheiress，thethirtyfrancsthatcamefromthesaleofSylvestre\'sbag；andthentheletters，thecertificates，andtheboxcontainingthemilitarymedal。 Shetookthewholeparcelawkwardlywithopenfingers，unabletofindpocketstoputthemin。 ShewentstraightthroughPaimpol，lookingatnoone，herbodybentslightlylikeoneabouttofall，witharushingofbloodinherears； pressingandhurryingalonglikesomepooroldmachine，whichcouldnotbewoundup，atagreatpressure，forthelasttime，withoutfearofbreakingitssprings。 Atthethirdmileshewentalongquitebentintwoandexhausted；fromtimetotimeherfootstruckagainstthestones，givingherapainfulshockuptotheveryhead。Shehurriedtoburyherselfinherhome，forfearoffallingandhavingtobecarriedthere。 CHAPTERVI ACHARITABLEASSUMPTION \"OldYvonne\'stipsy!\"wasthecry。 Shehadfallen，andthestreetchildrenranafterher。ItwasjustattheboundaryoftheparishofPloubazlanec，wheremanyhousesstragglealongtheroadside。Butshehadthestrengthtoriseandhobblealongonherstick。 \"OldYvonne\'stipsy!\" Theboldlittlecreaturesstaredherfullintheface，laughing。Her/coiffe/wasallawry。Someoftheselittleoneswerenotreallywicked，andthese，whentheyscannedhercloserandsawthesenilegrimaceofbitterdespair，turnedaside，surprisedandsaddened，daringtosaynothingmore。 Athome，withthedoortightlyclosed，shegaveventtothedeepscreamofdespairthatchokedher，andfelldowninacorner，herheadagainstthewall。Hercaphadfallenoverhereyes；shethrewoffroughlywhatformerlyhadbeensowelltakencareof。HerSundaydresswassoiled，andathinmeshofyellowishwhitehairstrayedfrombeneathhercap，completingherpitiful，poverty-strickendisorder。 CHAPTERVII THECOMFORTER ThusdidGaud，cominginfornewsintheevening，findher；herhairdishevelled，herarmshangingdown，andherheadrestingagainstthestonewall，withafallingjawgrinning，andtheplaintivewhimperofalittlechild；shescarcelycouldweepanymore；thesegrandmothers，growntooold，havenotearsleftintheirdried-upeyes。 \"Mygrandsonisdead!\"Shethrewtheletters，papers，andmedalintohercaller\'slap。 Gaudquicklyscannedthewhole，sawthenewswastrue，andfellonherkneestopray。Thetwowomenremainedtheretogetheralmostdumb，throughtheJunegloaming，whichinBrittanyislongbutinIcelandisnever-ending。Onthehearththecricketthatbringsjoywaschirpinghisshrillmusic。 ThedimduskenteredthroughthenarrowwindowintothedwellingofthoseMoans，whohadallbeendevouredbythesea，andwhosefamilywasnowextinguished。 AtlastGaudsaid:\"/I\'ll/cometoyou，goodgranny，tolivewithyou； I\'llbringmybedthatthey\'veleftme，andI\'lltakecareofyouandnurseyou——youshan\'tbeallalone。\" Shewept，too，forherlittlefriendSylvestre，butinhersorrowshewasledinvoluntarilytothinkofanother——hewhohadgonebacktothedeep-seafishery。 TheywouldhavetowritetoYannandtellhimSylvestrewasdead；itwasjustnowthatthefisherswerestarting。Wouldhe，too，weepforhim？Mayhaphewould，forhehadlovedhimdearly。Inthemidstofherowntears，Gaudthoughtagreatdealofhim；nowandagainwaxingwrothagainstthehard-heartedfellow，andthenpityinghimatthethoughtofthatpainwhichwouldstrikehimalso，andwhichwouldbeasalinkbetweenthemboth——onewayandanother，herheartwasfullofhim。 CHAPTERVIII THEBROTHER\'SGRIEF OnepaleAugustevening，theletterthatannouncedYann\'sbrother\'sdeath，atlengtharrivedonboardthe/Marie/，upontheIcelandseas； itwasafteradayofhardworkandexcessivefatigue，justastheyweregoingdowntosupandtorest。Witheyesheavywithsleep，hereaditintheirdarknookbelowdeck，litbytheyellowbeamofthesmalllamp；atthefirstmomenthebecamestunnedandgiddy，likeonedazedoutoffairunderstanding。VeryproudandreticentinallthingsconcerningthefeelingswasYann，andhehidtheletterinhisbluejersey，nexthisbreast，withoutsayinganything，assailorsdo。Buthedidnotfeelthecouragetositdownwiththeotherstosupper，anddisdainingeventoexplainwhy，hethrewhimselfintohisberthandfellasleep。SoonhedreamedofSylvestredead，andofhisfuneralgoingby。 Towardsmidnight，beinginthatstateofmindthatispeculiartoseamanwhoareconsciousofthetimeofdayintheirslumber，andquiteclearlyseethehourdrawnightwhentoawakenforthewatch——hesawthefuneral，andsaidtohimself:\"Iamdreaming；luckilythematewillcomeandwakemeup，andthevisionwillpassaway。\" Butwhenaheavyhandwaslaiduponhimandavoicecriedout:\"Tumbleout，Gaos!watch，boy!\"heheardtheslightrustlingofpaperathisbreast，afineghastlymusicthataffirmedthefactofthedeath。Yes，theletter!Itwastrue，then？Themorecruel，heartrendingimpressiondeepened，andhejumpedupsoquicklyinhissuddenstart，thathestruckhisforeheadagainsttheoverheadbeam。Hedressedandopenedthehatchwaytogoupmechanicallyandtakehisplaceinthefishing。 CHAPTERIX WORKCURESSORROW WhenYannwasondeck，helookedaroundhimwithsleep-ladeneyes，overthefamiliarcircleofthesea。Thatnighttheillimitableimmensityshoweditselfinitsmostastonishinglysimpleaspects，inneutraltints，givingonlytheimpressionofdepth。Thishorizon，whichindicatednorecognisableregionoftheearth，orevenanygeologicalage，musthavelookedsomanytimesthesamesincetheoriginoftime，that，gazinguponit，onesawnothingsavetheeternityofthingsthatexistandcannothelpexisting。 Itwasnotthedeadofnight，forapatchoflight，whichseemedtooozefromnoparticularpoint，dimlylitupthescene。Thewindsobbedasusualitsaimlesswail。Allwasgray，aficklegray，whichfadedbeforethefixedgaze。Thesea，duringitsmysteriousrest，hiditselfunderfeebletintswithoutaname。 Abovefloatedscatteredclouds；theyhadassumedvariousshapes，for，withoutform，thingscannotexist；inthedarknesstheyhadblendedtogether，soastoformonesinglevastveiling。 Butinoneparticularspotofthesky，lowdownonthewaters，theyseemedadark-veinedmarble，thestreaksclearlydefinedalthoughverydistant；atenderdrawing，asiftracedbysomedreamyhand——somechanceeffect，notmeanttobeviewedforlong，andindeedhasteningtodieaway。Eventhatalone，inthemidstofthisbroadgrandeur，appearedtomeansomething；onemightthinkthatthesad，undefinedthoughtofthenothingnessaroundwaswrittenthere；andthesightinvoluntarilyremainedfixeduponit。 Yann\'sdazzledeyesgrewaccustomedtotheoutsidedarkness，andgazedmoreandmoresteadilyuponthatveininginthesky；ithadnowtakentheshapeofakneelingfigurewitharmsoutstretched。Hebegantolookuponitasahumanshadowrenderedgiganticbythedistanceitself。 Inhismind，wherehisindefinitedreamsandprimitivebeliefsstilllingered，theominousshadow，crushedbeneaththegloomysky，slowlycoalescedwiththethoughtofhisdeadbrother，asifitwerealasttokenfromhim。 Hewasusedtosuchstrangeassociationsofideas，thatthriveinthemindsofchildren。Butwords，vagueastheymaybe，arestilltooprecisetoexpressthosefeelings；onewouldneedthatuncertainlanguagethatcomesindreams，ofwhichuponawakening，oneretainsmerelyenigmatical，senselessfragments。 Lookinguponthecloud，hefeltadeepanguish，fullofunknownmystery，thatfrozehisverysoul；heunderstoodfullwellnowthathispoorlittlebrotherwouldnevermorebeseen；sorrow，whichhadbeensometimepenetratingthehard，roughrindofhisheart，nowgushedinandbrimmeditover。HebeheldSylvestreagainwithhissoftchildisheyes；atthethoughtofembracinghimnomore，aveilfellbetweenhiseyelidsandhiseyes，againsthiswill；and，atfirst，hecouldnotrightlyunderstandwhatitwas——neverhavingweptinallhismanhood。Butthetearsbegantofallheavilyandswiftlydownhischeeks，andthensobsrenthisdeepchest。 Hewentonwithhisfishing，losingnotimeandspeakingtonoone，andhistwomates，thoughhearinghiminthedeepsilence，pretendednottodoso，forfearofirritatinghim，knowinghimtobesohaughtyandreserved。 Inhisopiniondeathwastheendofitall。Outofrespectheoftenjoinedinthefamilyprayersforthedead，buthebelievedinnoafter-lifeofthesoul。Betweenthemselves，intheirlongtalks，thesailorsallsaidthesame，inablunttaken-for-grantedway，asawell-knownfact；butitdidnotstopthemfrombelievinginghosts，havingavaguefearofgraveyards，andanunlimitedconfidenceinprotectingsaintsandimages，andabovealladeeprespectfortheconsecratedeartharoundthechurches。 SoYannhimselffearedtobeswallowedupbythesea，asifitwouldannihilatehim，andthethoughtofSylvestre，sofarawayontheothersideoftheearth，madehissorrowmoredarkanddesperate。Withhiscontemptforhisfellows，hehadnoshameorconstraintinweeping，nomorethanifhewerealone。 Aroundtheboatthechaosgrewwhiter，althoughitwasonlytwoo\'clock，andatthesametimeitappearedtospreadfarther，hollowinginafearfulmanner。Withthatkindofrisingdawn，eyesopenedwider，andtheawakenedmindcouldconceivebettertheimmensityofdistance，astheboundariesofvisiblespacerecededandwidenedaway。 Thepaleauroraincreased，seemingtocomeintinyjetswithslightshocks；eternalthingsseemedtolightupbysheertransparency，asifwhite-flamedlampshadslowlybeenraisedupbehindtheshapelessgrayclouds，andheldtherewithmysteriouscare，forfearofdisturbingthecalm，evenrestofthesea。Belowthehorizonthatcolossalwhitelampwasthesun，whichdraggeditselfalongwithoutstrength，beforetakingitsleisurelyascent，whichbeganinthedawn\'seyeabovetheocean。 Onthisday，theusualrosytintswerenotseen；allremainedpaleandmournful。Onboardthegrayship，Yannweptalone。Thetearsofthefierceelderbrother，togetherwiththemelancholyofthissurroundingwaste，wereasmourning，worninhonourofthepoor，obscure，younghero，upontheseseasofIceland，wherehalfhislifehadbeenpassed。 Whenthefulllightofdayappeared，Yannabruptlywipedhiseyeswithhissleeveandceasedweeping。Thatgriefwasovernow。Heseemedcompletelyabsorbedbytheworkofthefishery，andbythemonotonousroutineofsubstantialdeeds，asifheneverhadthoughtofanythingelse。 Thecatchingwentonapace，andtherewerescanthandsforthework。 Aroundaboutthefishers，intheimmensedepths，atransformationscenewastakingplace。Thegrandopeningoutoftheinfinitude，thatgreatwonderofthemorning，hadfinished，andthedistanceseemedtodiminishandcloseinaroundthem。Howwasitthatbeforetheseahadseemedsoboundless! Thehorizonwasquiteclearnow，andmorespaceseemednecessary。Thevoidfilledinwithflecksandstreamersthatfloatedabove，somevagueasmist，otherswithvisiblyjaggededges。Theyfellsoftlyamidanuttersilence，likesnowygauze，butfellonallsidestogether，sothatbelowthemsuffocationsetinswiftly；ittookawaythebreathtoseetheairsothickened。 ItwasthefirstoftheAugustfogsthatwasrising。Inafewmomentsthewinding-sheetbecameuniversallydense；allaroundthe/Marie/awhitedamplayunderthelight，andinitthemastfadedanddisappeared。 \"Here\'sthecursedfognow，forsure，\"grumbledthemen。Theyhadlongagomadetheacquaintanceofthatcompulsorycompanionofthesecondpartofthefishingseason；butitalsoannounceditsendandthetimeforreturningtoBrittany。 Itcondensedintofine，sparklingdropsintheirbeards，andshoneupontheirweather-beatenfaces。Lookingathwartshiptooneanother，theyappeareddimasghosts；andbycomparison，nearerobjectswereseenmoreclearlyunderthecolourlesslight。Theytookcarenottoinhaletheairtoodeeply，forafeelingofchillandwetpenetratedthelungs。 Butthefishingwasgoingonbriskly，sothattheyhadnotimelefttochatter，andtheyonlythoughtoftheirlines。Everymomentbigheavyfishweredrawninondeck，andslappeddownwithasmacklikeawhip- crack；theretheywriggledaboutangrily，flappingtheirtailsonthedeck，scatteringplentyofsea-waterabout，andsilveryscalestoo，inthecourseoftheirdeath-struggle。Thesailorwhosplitthemopenwithhislongknife，sometimescuthisownfingers，inhishaste，sothathiswarmbloodmingledwiththebrine。 CHAPTERX THEWHITEFOG Caughtinthefog，theyremainedtendaysinsuccessionwithoutbeingabletoseeanything。Thefishingwentonhandsomelythewhile，andwithsomuchtodotherewasnotimeforweariness。Atregularintervalsoneofthemblewalongfog-horn，whenceissuedasoundlikethehowlingofawildbeast。 Sometimes，outofthedepthsofwhitefog，anotherbellowingansweredtheircall。Thenasharperwatchwaskept。Iftheblastswereapproaching，allearswereturnedinthedirectionofthatunknownneighbour，whomtheymightperhapsneversee，butwhosepresencewasneverthelessadanger。Conjecturesweremadeaboutthestrangevessel；