To the Ends of the Earth by William Golding Read Free Book Online Page B

humiliation that for a fleeting moment met me eye to eye! Then the man was fumbling at the door of his hutch, got through it, pulled it to and was scrabbling at the bolt on the other side.
    Young Mr Taylor started to laugh again. I took him by the ear and twisted it until his laugh turned into a yelp.
    “Allow me to tell you, Mr Taylor,” said I, but quietly as the occasion demanded, “that one gentleman does not rejoice at the misfortune of another in public. You may make your bows and be off, the two of you. We shall take a constitutional again some day, I don’t doubt.”
    “Oh lord yes, sir,” said young Tommy, who seemed to think that having his ear twisted half off was a gesture of affection. “Whenever you choose, sir.”
    “Yes, sir,” said Willis with his beautiful simplicity. “We have missed a lesson in navigation.”
    They retreated down a ladder to what I am told is the Gun Room and suppose to be some sort of noisome pit. The last words I heard from them that day were spoken by Mr Taylor to Mr Willis in tones of high animation—
    “Don’t he hate a parson above anything?”
    I returned to my cabin, called Wheeler and bade him get off my boots. He responds so readily to the demands I make on him I wonder the other passengers do not make an equal use of his services. Their loss is my gain. Another fellow—Phillips, I think—serves the other side of the lobby as Wheeler serves this one.
    “Tell me, Wheeler,” said I as he fitted himself down in the narrow space, “why does Captain Anderson so dislike a parson?”
    “A little higher if you please, sir. Thank you, sir. Now the other if you would be so good.”
    “Wheeler!”
    “I’m sure I can’t say, sir. Does he, sir? Did he say so, sir?”
    “I know he does! I heard him as did the rest of the ship!”
    “We do not commonly have parsons in the Navy, sir. There are not enough to go round. Or if there are, the reverend gentlemen do not choose the sea. I will give these a brush again, sir. Now the coat?”
    “Not only did I hear him but one of the young gentlemen confirmed that Captain Anderson has a strong antipathy to the cloth, as did Lieutenant Cumbershum earlier, now I recollect it.”
    “Did he, sir? Thank you, sir.”
    “Is it not so?”
    “I know nothing, Mr Talbot, sir. And now, sir, may I bring you another draught of the paregoric? I believe you found it very settling, sir.”
    “No thank you, Wheeler. As you see, I have eluded the demon.”
    “It is rather strong, sir, as Mr Cumbershum informed you. And of course as he has less left, the purser has to charge more for it. That’s quite natural, sir. I believe there is a gentleman ashore as has wrote a book on it.”
    I bade him leave me and lay on my bunk for a while. I cast back in memory—could not remember what day of the voyage it was—took up this book, and it seemed to be the sixth, so I have confused your lordship and myself. I cannot keep pace with the events and shall not try. I have, at a moderate estimate, already written ten thousand words and must limit myself if I am to get our voyage between the luxurious covers of your gift. Can it be that I have evaded the demon opium only to fall victim to the furor scribendi  ? But if your lordship do but leaf through the book—
    A knock at the door. It is Bates, who serves in the passengers’ saloon.
    “Mr Summers’s compliments to Mr Talbot and will Mr Talbot take a glass of wine with him in the saloon?”
    “Mr Summers?”
    “The first lieutenant, sir.”
    “He is second in command to the captain, is he not? Tell Mr Summers I shall be happy to wait on him in ten minutes’ time.”
    It is not the captain, of course—but the next best thing. Come! We are beginning to move in society!

(X)
    I think it is the seventh—or the fifth—or the eighth perhaps —let “X” do its algebraic duty and represent the unknown quantity. Time has the habit of standing still so that as I write in the evening or night when