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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;〃 
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