the cruise of the jasper b.-第16部分

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〃You've　the　temper　of　a　sultan；　Mr。　Cleggett；〃　she　said　with　a

laugh；　which　was　her　signal　of　capitulation。　　And　then　she　added

maliciously：　〃You've　a　devil　of　a　temperfor　a　little　man！〃



〃Little！〃　　Cleggett　felt　the　blood　rush　into　his　face　again　and

was　vexed　at　himself。　　〃I'm　taller　than　you　are！〃　he　cried；　and

the　next　instant　could　have　bitten　his　tongue　off　for　the

childish　vanity　of　the　speech。



〃You're　not！〃　she　cried；　her　whole　face　alive　with　laughter。　

〃Measure　and　see！〃



And　pulling　off　her　hat　she　caught　up　a　table　knife　and　made　him

stand　with　his　back　to　hers。　〃You're　cheating；〃　said　Cleggett；

laughing　now　in　spite　of　himself；　as　she　laid　the　knife　across

their　heads。　　But　his　voice　broke　and　trembled　on　the　next　words；

for　he　was　suddenly　thrilled　with　her　delicious　nearness。　

〃You're　standing　on　your　tiptoes；　and　your　hair's　piled　on　top　of

your　head。〃



〃Maybe　you　are　an　inch　taller；〃　she　admitted；　with　mock

reluctance。　　And　then　she　said；　with　a　ripple　of　mirth：　　〃You　are

taller　than　I　amI　give　up；　I　won't　go　to　Morris's。〃



Cleggett；　to　tell　the　truth；　was　a　bit　relieved　at　the

measurement。　　He　was　of　the　middle　height；　she　was　slightly

taller　than　the　average　woman；　he　had　really　thought　she　might

prove　taller　than　he。　　He　could　scarcely　have　told　why　he

considered　the　point　important。



But　after　the　quarrel　she　looked　at　Cleggett　with　a　new　and　more

approving　gaze。　　Neither　of　them　quite　realized　it；　but　she　had

challenged　his　ability　to　dominate　her；　and　she　had　been　worsted；

he　had　unconsciously　met　and　satisfied　in　her　that　subtle

inherent　craving　for　domination　which　all　women　possess　and　so

few　will　admit　the　possession　of。



Cleggett　started　across　the　sands　toward　Morris's　with　an

automatic　pistol　slung　in　a　shoulder　holster　under　his　left　arm

and　a　sword　cane　in　his　hand。　　He　paused　a　moment　by　the　scene　of

the　explosion　of　the　night　before；　but　daylight　told　him　nothing

that　lantern　light　had　failed　to　reveal。　　He　had　no　very　definite

plan；　although　he　thought　it　possible　that　he　might　gain　some

information。　　The　more　he　reflected　on　the　attitude　of　Morris's；

the　more　it　irritated　him；　and　he　yearned　to　make　this　irritation

known。



Perhaps　there　was　more　than　a　little　of　the　spirit　of　bravado　in

the　call　he　proposed　to　pay。　　He　planned；　the　next　day；　to　sail

the　Jasper　B。　out　into　the　bay　and　up　and　down　the　coast　for　a

few　miles；　to　give　himself　and　his　men　a　bit　of　practice　in

navigation　before　setting　out　for　the　China　Seas。　And　he　could

not　bear　to　think　that　the　hostile　denizens　of　Morris's　should

think　that　he　had　moved　the　Jasper　B。　from　her　position　through

any　fear　of　them。　　He　reasoned　that　the　most　pointed　way　of

showing　his　opinion　of　them　would　be　to　walk　casually　into

Morris's　barroom　and　order　a　drink　or　two。　　If　Cleggett　had　a

fault　as　a　commander　it　lay　in　these　occasional　foolhardy

impulses　which　he　found　it　difficult　to　control。　　Julius　Caesar

had　the　same　sort　of　pride；　which；　in　Caesar's　case；　amounted　to

positive　vanity。　　In　fact；　the　character　of　Caesar　and　the

character　of　Cleggett　had　many　points　in　common；　although

Cleggett　possessed　a　nicer　sense　of　honor　than　Caesar。



The　main　entrance　to　Morris's　was　on　the　west　side。　　From　the

west　verandah　one　could　enter　directly　either　the　main

dining…room；　at　the　north　side　of　the　building；　the　office；　or

the　barroom。　　The　barroom；　which　was　large；　ran　the　whole　length

of　the　south　side　of　the　place。　　Doors　also　led　into　the　barroom；

from　the　south　verandah；　which　was　built　over　the　water；　and　from

the　east　verandah；　which　was　visible　from　the　Jasper　B。and

onto　the　roof　of　which　Cleggett　had　seen　Loge　tumble　the　limp

body　of　his　victim；　Heinrich。　　That　had　been　only　the　day　before；

but　so　much　had　happened　since　that　Cleggett　could　scarcely

realize　that　so　little　time　had　elapsed。



Cleggett　strolled　into　the　barroom　and　took　a　seat　at　a　table　in

the　southeast　corner　of　it；　with　his　back　to　the　angle　of　the

walls。　　He　thus　commanded　a　view　of　the　bar　itself；　a　door　which

led；　as　he　conjectured；　into　the　kitchen；　the　door　communicating

with　the　office；　and　a　door　which　gave　upon　the　west

verandahall　this　easily；　and　without　turning　his　head。　　By

turning　his　head　ever　so　slightly　to　his　right；　he　could　command

a　view　of　the　door　leading　to　the　east　verandah。　　Unless　the

ceiling　suddenly　opened　above　him；　or　the　floor　beneath；　it　would

be　impossible　to　surprise　him。　　Cleggett　took　this　position　less

through　any　positive　fear　of　attack　than　because　he　possessed　the

instinct　of　the　born　strategist。　　Cleggett　was　like　Robert　E。　Lee

in　his　quick　grasp　of　a　situation　and；　indeed；　in　other

respectsalthough　Cleggett　would　never　under　any　circumstances

have　countenanced　human　slavery。



There　were　only　two　men　in　the　place　when　Cleggett　took　his　seat；

the　bartender　and　a　fellow　who　was　evidently　a　waiter。　　He　had

entered　the　west　door　and　walked　across　the　room　without　looking

at　them；　withholding　his　gaze　purposely。　　When　he　looked　towards

the　bar；　after　seating　himself；　the　waiter；　with　his　back　towards

Cleggett's　corner；　was　talking　in　a　low　tone　to　the　bartender。　

But　they　had　both　seen　him；　Cleggett　perceived　they　both　knew

him。



〃See　what　the　gentleman　wants；　Pierre；〃　said　the　bartender　in　a

voice　too　elaborately　casual　to　hide　his　surprise　at　seeing

Cleggett。



The　waiter　turned　and　came　towards　him；　and　Cleggett　saw　the

man's　face　for　the　first　time。　　It　was　a　face　that　Cleggett　never

forgot。　　Cleggett　judged　the　man　to　be　a　Frenchman；　he　was　dark

and　sallow；　with　nervous；　black　eyebrows；　and　a　smirk　that　came

and　went　quickly。　　But　the　unforgettable　feature　was　a　mole　that

grew　on　his　upper　lip；　on　the　right　side；　near　the　base　of　his

flaring　nostril。　　Many　moles　have　hairs　in　them；　Pierre's　mole

had　not　merely　half　a　dozen　hairs；　but　a　whole　crop。　　They　grew

thick　and　long；　and；　with　a　perversion　of　vanity　almost

inconceivable　in　a　sane　person；　Pierre　had　twisted　these　hairs

together；　as　a　man　twists　a　mustache；　and　had　trained　them　to

grow　obliquely　across　his　cheek　bone。　　He　was　a　big　fellow；　for　a

Frenchman；　and；　as　he　walked　towards　Cleggett　with　a　mincing

elasticity　of　gait；　he　smirked　and　caressed　this　whimsical

adornment。　　Cleggett；　fascinated；　stared　at　it　as　the　fellow

paused　before　him。　　Pierre；　evidently　gratified　at　the　sensation

he　was　creating；　continued　to　smirk　and　twist；　and　then；　seeing

that　he　held　his　audience；　he　took　from　his　waistcoat　pocket　a

little　piece　of　cosmetic　and；　as　a　final　touch　of　Gallic

grotesquerie；　waxed　the　thing。　　It　was　all　done　with　that　air　of

quiet　histrionicism；　and　with　that　sense　of　self…appreciation；

which　only　the　French　can　achieve　in　its　perfection。　　〃You

ordered；　M'sieur？〃　　Pierre；　having　produced　his　effect；　like　the

artist　（though　debased）　that　he　was；　did　not　linger　over　it。



〃Era　Scotch　highball；〃　said　Cleggett；　recovering　himself。　　〃And

with　a　piece　of　lemon　peeling　in　it；　please。〃



Pierre　served　him　deftly。　　Cleggett　stirred　his　drink　and　sipped

it　slowly；　gazing　at　the　bartender；　who　elaborately　avoided

watching　him。　　But　after　a　moment　a　little　noise　at　his　right

attracted　his　attention。　　Pierre；　with　his　hand　cupped；　had

dashed　it　along　a　window　pane　and　caught　a　big　stupid　fly；　abroad

thus　early　in　the　year。　　With　a　sense　of　almost　intolerable

disgust；　Cleggett　saw　the　man；　with　a　rapt　smile　on　his　face；

tear　the　insect's　legs　from　it；　and　turn　it　loose。　　If　ever　a

creature　rejoiced　in　wickedness　for　its　own　sake；　and　as　if　its

practice　were　an　art　in　itself；　Pierre　was　that　person；　Cleggett

concluded。　　Knowing　Pierre；　one　could　almost　understand　those

cafes　of　Paris　where　the　silly　poets　of　degradation

ostentatiously　affect　the　worship　of　all　manner　of　devils。



An　instant　later；　Pierre；　as　if　he　had　been　doing　something　quite

charming；　looked　at　Cleggett　with　a　grin；　a　grin　that　assumed

that　there　was　some　kind　of　an　understanding　between　them

concerning　this　delightful　pastime。　　It　was　too　much。　　Cleggett；

with　an　oathand　never　stopping　to　reflect　that　it　was　perhaps

just　the　sort　of　action　which　Pierre　hoped　to　provokegrasped

his　cane　with　the　intention　of　laying　it　across　the　fellow's

shoulders　half　a　dozen　times；　come　what　might；　and　leaving　the

place。



But　at　that　instant　the　door　from　the　office　　opened　and　the　man

whom　he　knew　only　as　Loge　entered　the　room。



Loge　paused　at　the　right　of　Cleggett；　and　then　marched　directly

across　the　room　and　sat　down　opposite　the　commander　of　the　Jasper

B。　at　the　same　table。　　He　was　wearing　the　cutaway　frock　coat；　and

as　he　swung　his　big　frame　into　the　seat　one　of　his　coat　tails

caught　in　the　chair　back　and　was　lifted。



Cleggett　saw　the　steel　butt　of　an　army　revolver。　Loge　perceived

by　his　face　that　he　had　seen　it；　and　laughed。



〃I've　been　wanting　to　talk　to　you；〃　he　said；　leaning　across　the

table　and　showing　his　yellow　teeth　in　a　smile　which　he　perhaps

intended　to　be　ingratiating。　　Cleggett；　looking　Loge　fixedly　in

the　eye；　withdrew　his　right　hand　from　beneath　his　coat；　and　laid

his　magazine　pistol　on　the　table　under　his　hand。



〃I　am　at　your　service；〃　he　said；　steadily；　giving　back　unwavering

gaze　for　gaze。　　〃I　am　looking　for　some　information　myself；　and　I

am　in　exactly　the　humor　for　a　little　comfortable　chat。〃





CHAPTER　XI



REPARTEE　AND　PISTOLS



Loge　dropped　his　gaze　to　the　pistol；　and　the　smile　upon　his　lips

slowly　turned　into　a　sneer。　　But　when　he　lifted　his　eyes　to

Cleggett's　again　there　was　no　fear　in　them。



〃Put　up　your　gun；〃　he　said；　easily　enough。　　〃You　won't　have　any

use　for　it　here。〃



〃Thank　you　for　the　assurance；〃　said　Cleggett；　〃but　it　occurs　to

me　that　it　is　in　a　very　good　place　where　it　is。〃



〃Oh；　if　it　amuses　you　to　play　with　it〃　said　Loge。



〃It　does；〃