within the tides-第24部分

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that　coast　…　presumably　the　north　coast　of　Spain。　　His　experience



has　nothing　to　do　with　the　sea；　though。　　As　far　as　I　can　make　it



out；　he　was　an　officer　on　board　a　sloop…of…war。　　There's　nothing



strange　in　that。　　At　all　stages　of　the　long　Peninsular　campaign



many　of　our　men…of…war　of　the　smaller　kind　were　cruising　off　the



north　coast　of　Spain　…　as　risky　and　disagreeable　a　station　as　can



be　well　imagined。







It　looks　as　though　that　ship　of　his　had　had　some　special　service　to



perform。　　A　careful　explanation　of　all　the　circumstances　was　to　be



expected　from　our　man；　only；　as　I've　said；　some　of　his　pages　（good



tough　paper　too）　were　missing：　　gone　in　covers　for　jampots　or　in



wadding　for　the　fowling…pieces　of　his　irreverent　posterity。　　But　it



is　to　be　seen　clearly　that　communication　with　the　shore　and　even



the　sending　of　messengers　inland　was　part　of　her　service；　either　to



obtain　intelligence　from　or　to　transmit　orders　or　advice　to



patriotic　Spaniards；　guerilleros　or　secret　juntas　of　the　province。



Something　of　the　sort。　　All　this　can　be　only　inferred　from　the



preserved　scraps　of　his　conscientious　writing。







Next　we　come　upon　the　panegyric　of　a　very　fine　sailor；　a　member　of



the　ship's　company；　having　the　rating　of　the　captain's　coxswain。



He　was　known　on　board　as　Cuba　Tom；　not　because　he　was　Cuban



however；　he　was　indeed　the　best　type　of　a　genuine　British　tar　of



that　time；　and　a　man…of…war's　man　for　years。　　He　came　by　the　name



on　account　of　some　wonderful　adventures　he　had　in　that　island　in



his　young　days；　adventures　which　were　the　favourite　subject　of　the



yarns　he　was　in　the　habit　of　spinning　to　his　shipmates　of　an



evening　on　the　forecastle　head。　　He　was　intelligent；　very　strong；



and　of　proved　courage。　　Incidentally　we　are　told；　so　exact　is　our



narrator；　that　Tom　had　the　finest　pigtail　for　thickness　and　length



of　any　man　in　the　Navy。　　This　appendage；　much　cared　for　and



sheathed　tightly　in　a　porpoise　skin；　hung　half　way　down　his　broad



back　to　the　great　admiration　of　all　beholders　and　to　the　great　envy



of　some。







Our　young　officer　dwells　on　the　manly　qualities　of　Cuba　Tom　with



something　like　affection。　　This　sort　of　relation　between　officer



and　man　was　not　then　very　rare。　　A　youngster　on　joining　the　service



was　put　under　the　charge　of　a　trustworthy　seaman；　who　slung　his



first　hammock　for　him　and　often　later　on　became　a　sort　of　humble



friend　to　the　junior　officer。　　The　narrator　on　joining　the　sloop



had　found　this　man　on　board　after　some　years　of　separation。　　There



is　something　touching　in　the　warm　pleasure　he　remembers　and　records



at　this　meeting　with　the　professional　mentor　of　his　boyhood。







We　discover　then　that；　no　Spaniard　being　forthcoming　for　the



service；　this　worthy　seaman　with　the　unique　pigtail　and　a　very　high



character　for　courage　and　steadiness　had　been　selected　as　messenger



for　one　of　these　missions　inland　which　have　been　mentioned。　　His



preparations　were　not　elaborate。　　One　gloomy　autumn　morning　the



sloop　ran　close　to　a　shallow　cove　where　a　landing　could　be　made　on



that　iron…bound　shore。　　A　boat　was　lowered；　and　pulled　in　with　Tom



Corbin　（Cuba　Tom）　perched　in　the　bow；　and　our　young　man　（Mr。　Edgar



Byrne　was　his　name　on　this　earth　which　knows　him　no　more）　sitting



in　the　stern　sheets。







A　few　inhabitants　of　a　hamlet；　whose　grey　stone　houses　could　be



seen　a　hundred　yards　or　so　up　a　deep　ravine；　had　come　down　to　the



shore　and　watched　the　approach　of　the　boat。　　The　two　Englishmen



leaped　ashore。　　Either　from　dullness　or　astonishment　the　peasants



gave　no　greeting；　and　only　fell　back　in　silence。







Mr。　Byrne　had　made　up　his　mind　to　see　Tom　Corbin　started　fairly　on



his　way。　　He　looked　round　at　the　heavy　surprised　faces。







〃There　isn't　much　to　get　out　of　them；〃　he　said。　　〃Let　us　walk　up　to



the　village。　　There　will　be　a　wine　shop　for　sure　where　we　may　find



somebody　more　promising　to　talk　to　and　get　some　information　from。〃







〃Aye；　aye；　sir；〃　said　Tom　falling　into　step　behind　his　officer。　　〃A



bit　of　palaver　as　to　courses　and　distances　can　do　no　harm；　I



crossed　the　broadest　part　of　Cuba　by　the　help　of　my　tongue　tho'



knowing　far　less　Spanish　than　I　do　now。　　As　they　say　themselves　it



was　'four　words　and　no　more'　with　me；　that　time　when　I　got　left



behind　on　shore　by　the　Blanche；　frigate。〃







He　made　light　of　what　was　before　him；　which　was　but　a　day's　journey



into　the　mountains。　　It　is　true　that　there　was　a　full　day's　journey



before　striking　the　mountain　path；　but　that　was　nothing　for　a　man



who　had　crossed　the　island　of　Cuba　on　his　two　legs；　and　with　no



more　than　four　words　of　the　language　to　begin　with。







The　officer　and　the　man　were　walking　now　on　a　thick　sodden　bed　of



dead　leaves；　which　the　peasants　thereabouts　accumulate　in　the



streets　of　their　villages　to　rot　during　the　winter　for　field



manure。　　Turning　his　head　Mr。　Byrne　perceived　that　the　whole　male



population　of　the　hamlet　was　following　them　on　the　noiseless



springy　carpet。　　Women　stared　from　the　doors　of　the　houses　and　the



children　had　apparently　gone　into　hiding。　　The　village　knew　the



ship　by　sight；　afar　off；　but　no　stranger　had　landed　on　that　spot



perhaps　for　a　hundred　years　or　more。　　The　cocked　hat　of　Mr。　Byrne；



the　bushy　whiskers　and　the　enormous　pigtail　of　the　sailor；　filled



them　with　mute　wonder。　　They　pressed　behind　the　two　Englishmen



staring　like　those　islanders　discovered　by　Captain　Cook　in　the



South　Seas。







It　was　then　that　Byrne　had　his　first　glimpse　of　the　little　cloaked



man　in　a　yellow　hat。　　Faded　and　dingy　as　it　was；　this　covering　for



his　head　made　him　noticeable。







The　entrance　to　the　wine　shop　was　like　a　rough　hole　in　a　wall　of



flints。　　The　owner　was　the　only　person　who　was　not　in　the　street；



for　he　came　out　from　the　darkness　at　the　back　where　the　inflated



forms　of　wine　skins　hung　on　nails　could　be　vaguely　distinguished。



He　was　a　tall；　one…eyed　Asturian　with　scrubby；　hollow　cheeks；　a



grave　expression　of　countenance　contrasted　enigmatically　with　the



roaming　restlessness　of　his　solitary　eye。　　On　learning　that　the



matter　in　hand　was　the　sending　on　his　way　of　that　English　mariner



toward　a　certain　Gonzales　in　the　mountains；　he　closed　his　good　eye



for　a　moment　as　if　in　meditation。　　Then　opened　it；　very　lively



again。







〃Possibly；　possibly。　　It　could　be　done。〃







A　friendly　murmur　arose　in　the　group　in　the　doorway　at　the　name　of



Gonzales；　the　local　leader　against　the　French。　　Inquiring　as　to　the



safety　of　the　road　Byrne　was　glad　to　learn　that　no　troops　of　that



nation　had　been　seen　in　the　neighbourhood　for　months。　　Not　the



smallest　little　detachment　of　these　impious　POLIZONES。　　While



giving　these　answers　the　owner　of　the　wine…shop　busied　himself　in



drawing　into　an　earthenware　jug　some　wine　which　he　set　before　the



heretic　English；　pocketing　with　grave　abstraction　the　small　piece



of　money　the　officer　threw　upon　the　table　in　recognition　of　the



unwritten　law　that　none　may　enter　a　wine…shop　without　buying　drink。



His　eye　was　in　constant　motion　as　if　it　were　trying　to　do　the　work



of　the　two；　but　when　Byrne　made　inquiries　as　to　the　possibility　of



hiring　a　mule；　it　became　immovably　fixed　in　the　direction　of　the



door　which　was　closely　besieged　by　the　curious。　　In　front　of　them；



just　within　the　threshold；　the　little　man　in　the　large　cloak　and



yellow　hat　had　taken　his　stand。　　He　was　a　diminutive　person；　a　mere



homunculus；　Byrne　describes　him；　in　a　ridiculously　mysterious；　yet



assertive　attitude；　a　corner　of　his　cloak　thrown　cavalierly　over



his　left　shoulder；　muffling　his　chin　and　mouth；　while　the　broad…



brimmed　yellow　hat　hung　on　a　corner　of　his　square　little　head。　　He



stood　there　taking　snuff；　repeatedly。







〃A　mule；〃　repeated　the　wine…seller；　his　eyes　fixed　on　that　quaint



and　snuffy　figure。　。　。　〃No；　senor　officer！　　Decidedly　no　mule　is　to



be　got　in　this　poor　place。〃







The　coxswain；　who　stood　by　with　the　true　sailor's　air　of　unconcern



in　strange　surroundings；　struck　in　quietly　…







〃If　your　honour　will　believe　me　Shank's　pony's　the　best　for　this



job。　　I　would　have　to　leave　the　beast　somewhere；　anyhow；　since　the



captain　has　told　me　that　half　my　way　will　be　along　paths　fit　only



for　goats。〃







The　diminutive　man　made　a　step　forward；　and　speaking　through　the



folds　of　the　cloak　which　seemed　to　muffle　a　sarcastic　intention　…







〃Si；　senor。　　They　are　too　honest　in　this　village　to　have　a　single



mule　amongst　them　for　your　worship's　service。　　To　that　I　can　bear



testimony。　　In　these　times　it's　only　rogues　or　very　clever　men　who



can　manage　to　have　mules　or　any　other　four…footed　beasts　and　the



wherewithal　to　keep　them。　　But　what　this　valiant　mariner　wants　is　a



guide；　and　here；　senor；　behold　my　brother…in…law；　Bernardino；　wine…



seller；　and　alcade　of　this　most　Christian　and　hospitable　village；



who　will　find　you　one。〃







This；　Mr。　Byrne　says　in　his　relation；　was　the　only　thing　to　do。　　A



youth　in　a　ragged　coat　and　goat…skin　breeches　was　produced　after



some　more　talk。　　The　English　officer　stood　treat　to　the　whole



village；　and　while　the　peasants　drank　he　and　Cuba　Tom　took　their



departure　accompanied　by　the　guide。　　The　diminutive　man　in　the



cloak　had　disappeared。







Byrne　went　along　with　the　coxswain　out　of　the　village。　　He　wanted



to　see　him　fairly　on　his　way；　and　he　would　have　gone　a　greater



distance；　if　the　seaman　had　not　suggested　respectfully　the



advisability　of　return　so　as　not　to　keep　the　ship　a　moment　longer



than　necessary　so　close　in　with　the　shore　on　such　an　unpromising



looking　morning。　　A　wild　gloomy　sky　hung　over　their　heads　when　they



took　leave　of　each　other；　and　their　surroundings　of　r