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diff --git a/minionlivesmatter/templates/assets/tether/examples/scroll/index.html b/minionlivesmatter/templates/assets/tether/examples/scroll/index.html deleted file mode 100644 index 4d4fd64..0000000 --- a/minionlivesmatter/templates/assets/tether/examples/scroll/index.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,922 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html> - <head> - <link rel="stylesheet" href="../resources/css/base.css" /> - <link rel="stylesheet" href="../common/css/style.css" /> - </head> - <body> - - <div class="instructions">Scroll the page</div> - - <h2>THE END OF THE TETHER</h2> - - <p>By Joseph Conrad</p> - - <h3>Chapter I</h3> - - <p>For a long time after the course of the steamer <em>Sofala</em> had been - altered for the land, the low swampy coast had retained its appearance - of a mere smudge of darkness beyond a belt of glitter. The sunrays - seemed to fall violently upon the calm sea--seemed to shatter themselves - upon an adamantine surface into sparkling dust, into a dazzling vapor - of light that blinded the eye and wearied the brain with its unsteady - brightness.</p> - - <p>Captain Whalley did not look at it. When his Serang, approaching the - roomy cane arm-chair which he filled capably, had informed him in a low - voice that the course was to be altered, he had risen at once and had - remained on his feet, face forward, while the head of his ship swung - through a quarter of a circle. He had not uttered a single word, not - even the word to steady the helm. It was the Serang, an elderly, alert, - little Malay, with a very dark skin, who murmured the order to the - helmsman. And then slowly Captain Whalley sat down again in the - arm-chair on the bridge and fixed his eyes on the deck between his feet.</p> - - <p>He could not hope to see anything new upon this lane of the sea. He had - been on these coasts for the last three years. From Low Cape to Malantan - the distance was fifty miles, six hours' steaming for the old ship with - the tide, or seven against. Then you steered straight for the land, and - by-and-by three palms would appear on the sky, tall and slim, and with - their disheveled heads in a bunch, as if in confidential criticism of - the dark mangroves. The Sofala would be headed towards the somber - strip of the coast, which at a given moment, as the ship closed with - it obliquely, would show several clean shining fractures--the brimful - estuary of a river. Then on through a brown liquid, three parts water - and one part black earth, on and on between the low shores, three parts - black earth and one part brackish water, the Sofala would plow her way - up-stream, as she had done once every month for these seven years or - more, long before he was aware of her existence, long before he had ever - thought of having anything to do with her and her invariable voyages. - The old ship ought to have known the road better than her men, who had - not been kept so long at it without a change; better than the faithful - Serang, whom he had brought over from his last ship to keep the - captain's watch; better than he himself, who had been her captain for - the last three years only. She could always be depended upon to make her - courses. Her compasses were never out. She was no trouble at all to - take about, as if her great age had given her knowledge, wisdom, and - steadiness. She made her landfalls to a degree of the bearing, and - almost to a minute of her allowed time. At any moment, as he sat on - the bridge without looking up, or lay sleepless in his bed, simply by - reckoning the days and the hours he could tell where he was--the precise - spot of the beat. He knew it well too, this monotonous huckster's - round, up and down the Straits; he knew its order and its sights and its - people. Malacca to begin with, in at daylight and out at dusk, to cross - over with a rigid phosphorescent wake this highway of the Far East. - Darkness and gleams on the water, clear stars on a black sky, perhaps - the lights of a home steamer keeping her unswerving course in the - middle, or maybe the elusive shadow of a native craft with her mat sails - flitting by silently--and the low land on the other side in sight - at daylight. At noon the three palms of the next place of call, up a - sluggish river. The only white man residing there was a retired young - sailor, with whom he had become friendly in the course of many voyages. - Sixty miles farther on there was another place of call, a deep bay with - only a couple of houses on the beach. And so on, in and out, picking - up coastwise cargo here and there, and finishing with a hundred miles' - steady steaming through the maze of an archipelago of small islands up - to a large native town at the end of the beat. There was a three days' - rest for the old ship before he started her again in inverse order, - seeing the same shores from another bearing, hearing the same voices - in the same places, back again to the Sofala's port of registry on - the great highway to the East, where he would take up a berth nearly - opposite the big stone pile of the harbor office till it was time to - start again on the old round of 1600 miles and thirty days. Not a very - enterprising life, this, for Captain Whalley, Henry Whalley, otherwise - Dare-devil Harry--Whalley of the Condor, a famous clipper in her day. - No. Not a very enterprising life for a man who had served famous firms, - who had sailed famous ships (more than one or two of them his own); who - had made famous passages, had been the pioneer of new routes and new - trades; who had steered across the unsurveyed tracts of the South Seas, - and had seen the sun rise on uncharted islands. Fifty years at sea, and - forty out in the East ("a pretty thorough apprenticeship," he used - to remark smilingly), had made him honorably known to a generation of - shipowners and merchants in all the ports from Bombay clear over to - where the East merges into the West upon the coast of the two Americas. - His fame remained writ, not very large but plain enough, on the - Admiralty charts. Was there not somewhere between Australia and China a - Whalley Island and a Condor Reef? On that dangerous coral formation the - celebrated clipper had hung stranded for three days, her captain and - crew throwing her cargo overboard with one hand and with the other, as - it were, keeping off her a flotilla of savage war-canoes. At that time - neither the island nor the reef had any official existence. Later the - officers of her Majesty's steam vessel Fusilier, dispatched to make a - survey of the route, recognized in the adoption of these two names the - enterprise of the man and the solidity of the ship. Besides, as anyone - who cares may see, the "General Directory," vol. ii. p. 410, begins the - description of the "Malotu or Whalley Passage" with the words: "This - advantageous route, first discovered in 1850 by Captain Whalley in the - ship Condor," &c., and ends by recommending it warmly to sailing vessels - leaving the China ports for the south in the months from December to - April inclusive.</p> - - <p>This was the clearest gain he had out of life. Nothing could rob him - of this kind of fame. The piercing of the Isthmus of Suez, like the - breaking of a dam, had let in upon the East a flood of new ships, new - men, new methods of trade. It had changed the face of the Eastern seas - and the very spirit of their life; so that his early experiences meant - nothing whatever to the new generation of seamen.</p> - - <p>In those bygone days he had handled many thousands of pounds of his - employers' money and of his own; he had attended faithfully, as by law - a shipmaster is expected to do, to the conflicting interests of owners, - charterers, and underwriters. He had never lost a ship or consented to - a shady transaction; and he had lasted well, outlasting in the end the - conditions that had gone to the making of his name. He had buried his - wife (in the Gulf of Petchili), had married off his daughter to the man - of her unlucky choice, and had lost more than an ample competence in the - crash of the notorious Travancore and Deccan Banking Corporation, whose - downfall had shaken the East like an earthquake. And he was sixty-five - years old.</p> - - <h3>Chapter II</h3> - - <p>His age sat lightly enough on him; and of his ruin he was not ashamed. - He had not been alone to believe in the stability of the Banking - Corporation. Men whose judgment in matters of finance was as expert as - his seamanship had commended the prudence of his investments, and had - themselves lost much money in the great failure. The only difference - between him and them was that he had lost his all. And yet not his all. - There had remained to him from his lost fortune a very pretty little - bark, Fair Maid, which he had bought to occupy his leisure of a retired - sailor--"to play with," as he expressed it himself.</p> - - <p>He had formally declared himself tired of the sea the year preceding his - daughter's marriage. But after the young couple had gone to settle in - Melbourne he found out that he could not make himself happy on shore. He - was too much of a merchant sea-captain for mere yachting to satisfy him. - He wanted the illusion of affairs; and his acquisition of the Fair - Maid preserved the continuity of his life. He introduced her to his - acquaintances in various ports as "my last command." When he grew too - old to be trusted with a ship, he would lay her up and go ashore to be - buried, leaving directions in his will to have the bark towed out and - scuttled decently in deep water on the day of the funeral. His daughter - would not grudge him the satisfaction of knowing that no stranger would - handle his last command after him. With the fortune he was able to leave - her, the value of a 500-ton bark was neither here nor there. All this - would be said with a jocular twinkle in his eye: the vigorous old man - had too much vitality for the sentimentalism of regret; and a little - wistfully withal, because he was at home in life, taking a genuine - pleasure in its feelings and its possessions; in the dignity of his - reputation and his wealth, in his love for his daughter, and in his - satisfaction with the ship--the plaything of his lonely leisure.</p> - - <p>He had the cabin arranged in accordance with his simple ideal of comfort - at sea. A big bookcase (he was a great reader) occupied one side of his - stateroom; the portrait of his late wife, a flat bituminous oil-painting - representing the profile and one long black ringlet of a young woman, - faced his bed-place. Three chronometers ticked him to sleep and greeted - him on waking with the tiny competition of their beats. He rose at five - every day. The officer of the morning watch, drinking his early cup - of coffee aft by the wheel, would hear through the wide orifice of the - copper ventilators all the splashings, blowings, and splutterings of - his captain's toilet. These noises would be followed by a sustained - deep murmur of the Lord's Prayer recited in a loud earnest voice. Five - minutes afterwards the head and shoulders of Captain Whalley emerged - out of the companion-hatchway. Invariably he paused for a while on the - stairs, looking all round at the horizon; upwards at the trim of the - sails; inhaling deep draughts of the fresh air. Only then he would step - out on the poop, acknowledging the hand raised to the peak of the cap - with a majestic and benign "Good morning to you." He walked the deck - till eight scrupulously. Sometimes, not above twice a year, he had to - use a thick cudgel-like stick on account of a stiffness in the hip--a - slight touch of rheumatism, he supposed. Otherwise he knew nothing of - the ills of the flesh. At the ringing of the breakfast bell he went - below to feed his canaries, wind up the chronometers, and take the - head of the table. From there he had before his eyes the big carbon - photographs of his daughter, her husband, and two fat-legged babies - --his grandchildren--set in black frames into the maplewood bulkheads - of the cuddy. After breakfast he dusted the glass over these portraits - himself with a cloth, and brushed the oil painting of his wife with a - plumate kept suspended from a small brass hook by the side of the heavy - gold frame. Then with the door of his stateroom shut, he would sit down - on the couch under the portrait to read a chapter out of a thick pocket - Bible--her Bible. But on some days he only sat there for half an hour - with his finger between the leaves and the closed book resting on his - knees. Perhaps he had remembered suddenly how fond of boat-sailing she - used to be.</p> - - <p>She had been a real shipmate and a true woman too. It was like an - article of faith with him that there never had been, and never could be, - a brighter, cheerier home anywhere afloat or ashore than his home under - the poop-deck of the Condor, with the big main cabin all white and gold, - garlanded as if for a perpetual festival with an unfading wreath. She - had decorated the center of every panel with a cluster of home flowers. - It took her a twelvemonth to go round the cuddy with this labor of love. - To him it had remained a marvel of painting, the highest achievement of - taste and skill; and as to old Swinburne, his mate, every time he - came down to his meals he stood transfixed with admiration before the - progress of the work. You could almost smell these roses, he declared, - sniffing the faint flavor of turpentine which at that time pervaded the - saloon, and (as he confessed afterwards) made him somewhat less hearty - than usual in tackling his food. But there was nothing of the sort to - interfere with his enjoyment of her singing. "Mrs. Whalley is a regular - out-and-out nightingale, sir," he would pronounce with a judicial air - after listening profoundly over the skylight to the very end of the - piece. In fine weather, in the second dog-watch, the two men could hear - her trills and roulades going on to the accompaniment of the piano in - the cabin. On the very day they got engaged he had written to London - for the instrument; but they had been married for over a year before it - reached them, coming out round the Cape. The big case made part of the - first direct general cargo landed in Hong-kong harbor--an event that to - the men who walked the busy quays of to-day seemed as hazily remote as - the dark ages of history. But Captain Whalley could in a half hour of - solitude live again all his life, with its romance, its idyl, and its - sorrow. He had to close her eyes himself. She went away from under the - ensign like a sailor's wife, a sailor herself at heart. He had read - the service over her, out of her own prayer-book, without a break in his - voice. When he raised his eyes he could see old Swinburne facing him - with his cap pressed to his breast, and his rugged, weather-beaten, - impassive face streaming with drops of water like a lump of chipped red - granite in a shower. It was all very well for that old sea-dog to cry. - He had to read on to the end; but after the splash he did not remember - much of what happened for the next few days. An elderly sailor of the - crew, deft at needlework, put together a mourning frock for the child - out of one of her black skirts.</p> - - <p>He was not likely to forget; but you cannot dam up life like a sluggish - stream. It will break out and flow over a man's troubles, it will close - upon a sorrow like the sea upon a dead body, no matter how much love has - gone to the bottom. And the world is not bad. People had been very - kind to him; especially Mrs. Gardner, the wife of the senior partner - in Gardner, Patteson, & Co., the owners of the Condor. It was she who - volunteered to look after the little one, and in due course took her to - England (something of a journey in those days, even by the overland - mail route) with her own girls to finish her education. It was ten years - before he saw her again.</p> - - <p>As a little child she had never been frightened of bad weather; she - would beg to be taken up on deck in the bosom of his oilskin coat to - watch the big seas hurling themselves upon the Condor. The swirl and - crash of the waves seemed to fill her small soul with a breathless - delight. "A good boy spoiled," he used to say of her in joke. He had - named her Ivy because of the sound of the word, and obscurely fascinated - by a vague association of ideas. She had twined herself tightly round - his heart, and he intended her to cling close to her father as to a - tower of strength; forgetting, while she was little, that in the nature - of things she would probably elect to cling to someone else. But - he loved life well enough for even that event to give him a certain - satisfaction, apart from his more intimate feeling of loss.</p> - - <p>After he had purchased the Fair Maid to occupy his loneliness, he - hastened to accept a rather unprofitable freight to Australia simply for - the opportunity of seeing his daughter in her own home. What made him - dissatisfied there was not to see that she clung now to somebody else, - but that the prop she had selected seemed on closer examination "a - rather poor stick"--even in the matter of health. He disliked his - son-in-law's studied civility perhaps more than his method of - handling the sum of money he had given Ivy at her marriage. But of his - apprehensions he said nothing. Only on the day of his departure, with - the hall-door open already, holding her hands and looking steadily into - her eyes, he had said, "You know, my dear, all I have is for you and the - chicks. Mind you write to me openly." She had answered him by an almost - imperceptible movement of her head. She resembled her mother in - the color of her eyes, and in character--and also in this, that she - understood him without many words.</p> - - <p>Sure enough she had to write; and some of these letters made Captain - Whalley lift his white eye-brows. For the rest he considered he was - reaping the true reward of his life by being thus able to produce on - demand whatever was needed. He had not enjoyed himself so much in a - way since his wife had died. Characteristically enough his son-in-law's - punctuality in failure caused him at a distance to feel a sort of - kindness towards the man. The fellow was so perpetually being jammed on - a lee shore that to charge it all to his reckless navigation would be - manifestly unfair. No, no! He knew well what that meant. It was bad - luck. His own had been simply marvelous, but he had seen in his life too - many good men--seamen and others--go under with the sheer weight of bad - luck not to recognize the fatal signs. For all that, he was cogitating - on the best way of tying up very strictly every penny he had to leave, - when, with a preliminary rumble of rumors (whose first sound reached - him in Shanghai as it happened), the shock of the big failure came; - and, after passing through the phases of stupor, of incredulity, of - indignation, he had to accept the fact that he had nothing to speak of - to leave.</p> - - <p>Upon that, as if he had only waited for this catastrophe, the unlucky - man, away there in Melbourne, gave up his unprofitable game, and sat - down--in an invalid's bath-chair at that too. "He will never walk - again," wrote the wife. For the first time in his life Captain Whalley - was a bit staggered.</p> - - <p>The Fair Maid had to go to work in bitter earnest now. It was no longer - a matter of preserving alive the memory of Dare-devil Harry Whalley in - the Eastern Seas, or of keeping an old man in pocket-money and clothes, - with, perhaps, a bill for a few hundred first-class cigars thrown in at - the end of the year. He would have to buckle-to, and keep her going hard - on a scant allowance of gilt for the ginger-bread scrolls at her stem - and stern.</p> - - <p>This necessity opened his eyes to the fundamental changes of the world. - Of his past only the familiar names remained, here and there, but - the things and the men, as he had known them, were gone. The name of - Gardner, Patteson, & Co. was still displayed on the walls of warehouses - by the waterside, on the brass plates and window-panes in the business - quarters of more than one Eastern port, but there was no longer a - Gardner or a Patteson in the firm. There was no longer for Captain - Whalley an arm-chair and a welcome in the private office, with a bit of - business ready to be put in the way of an old friend, for the sake of - bygone services. The husbands of the Gardner girls sat behind the desks - in that room where, long after he had left the employ, he had kept his - right of entrance in the old man's time. Their ships now had yellow - funnels with black tops, and a time-table of appointed routes like a - confounded service of tramways. The winds of December and June were all - one to them; their captains (excellent young men he doubted not) were, - to be sure, familiar with Whalley Island, because of late years the - Government had established a white fixed light on the north end (with - a red danger sector over the Condor Reef), but most of them would have - been extremely surprised to hear that a flesh-and-blood Whalley still - existed--an old man going about the world trying to pick up a cargo here - and there for his little bark.</p> - - <p>And everywhere it was the same. Departed the men who would have nodded - appreciatively at the mention of his name, and would have thought - themselves bound in honor to do something for Dare-devil Harry Whalley. - Departed the opportunities which he would have known how to seize; and - gone with them the white-winged flock of clippers that lived in the - boisterous uncertain life of the winds, skimming big fortunes out of - the foam of the sea. In a world that pared down the profits to an - irreducible minimum, in a world that was able to count its disengaged - tonnage twice over every day, and in which lean charters were snapped up - by cable three months in advance, there were no chances of fortune for - an individual wandering haphazard with a little bark--hardly indeed any - room to exist.</p> - - <p>He found it more difficult from year to year. He suffered greatly from - the smallness of remittances he was able to send his daughter. Meantime - he had given up good cigars, and even in the matter of inferior cheroots - limited himself to six a day. He never told her of his difficulties, and - she never enlarged upon her struggle to live. Their confidence in each - other needed no explanations, and their perfect understanding endured - without protestations of gratitude or regret. He would have been shocked - if she had taken it into her head to thank him in so many words, but - he found it perfectly natural that she should tell him she needed two - hundred pounds.</p> - - <p>He had come in with the Fair Maid in ballast to look for a freight in - the Sofala's port of registry, and her letter met him there. Its tenor - was that it was no use mincing matters. Her only resource was in opening - a boarding-house, for which the prospects, she judged, were good. Good - enough, at any rate, to make her tell him frankly that with two hundred - pounds she could make a start. He had torn the envelope open, hastily, - on deck, where it was handed to him by the ship-chandler's runner, who - had brought his mail at the moment of anchoring. For the second time - in his life he was appalled, and remained stock-still at the cabin door - with the paper trembling between his fingers. Open a boarding-house! Two - hundred pounds for a start! The only resource! And he did not know where - to lay his hands on two hundred pence.</p> - - <p>All that night Captain Whalley walked the poop of his anchored ship, as - though he had been about to close with the land in thick weather, and - uncertain of his position after a run of many gray days without a sight - of sun, moon, or stars. The black night twinkled with the guiding lights - of seamen and the steady straight lines of lights on shore; and all - around the Fair Maid the riding lights of ships cast trembling trails - upon the water of the roadstead. Captain Whalley saw not a gleam - anywhere till the dawn broke and he found out that his clothing was - soaked through with the heavy dew.</p> - - <p>His ship was awake. He stopped short, stroked his wet beard, and - descended the poop ladder backwards, with tired feet. At the sight - of him the chief officer, lounging about sleepily on the quarterdeck, - remained open-mouthed in the middle of a great early-morning yawn.</p> - - <p>"Good morning to you," pronounced Captain Whalley solemnly, passing into - the cabin. But he checked himself in the doorway, and without looking - back, "By the bye," he said, "there should be an empty wooden case put - away in the lazarette. It has not been broken up--has it?"</p> - - <p>The mate shut his mouth, and then asked as if dazed, "What empty case, - sir?"</p> - - <p>"A big flat packing-case belonging to that painting in my room. Let it - be taken up on deck and tell the carpenter to look it over. I may want - to use it before long."</p> - - <p>The chief officer did not stir a limb till he had heard the door of the - captain's state-room slam within the cuddy. Then he beckoned aft the - second mate with his forefinger to tell him that there was something "in - the wind."</p> - - <p>When the bell rang Captain Whalley's authoritative voice boomed out - through a closed door, "Sit down and don't wait for me." And his - impressed officers took their places, exchanging looks and whispers - across the table. What! No breakfast? And after apparently knocking - about all night on deck, too! Clearly, there was something in the wind. - In the skylight above their heads, bowed earnestly over the plates, - three wire cages rocked and rattled to the restless jumping of the - hungry canaries; and they could detect the sounds of their "old - man's" deliberate movements within his state-room. Captain Whalley was - methodically winding up the chronometers, dusting the portrait of - his late wife, getting a clean white shirt out of the drawers, making - himself ready in his punctilious unhurried manner to go ashore. He could - not have swallowed a single mouthful of food that morning. He had made - up his mind to sell the Fair Maid.</p> - - <h3>Chapter III</h3> - - <p>Just at that time the Japanese were casting far and wide for ships - of European build, and he had no difficulty in finding a purchaser, a - speculator who drove a hard bargain, but paid cash down for the Fair - Maid, with a view to a profitable resale. Thus it came about that - Captain Whalley found himself on a certain afternoon descending the - steps of one of the most important post-offices of the East with a slip - of bluish paper in his hand. This was the receipt of a registered letter - enclosing a draft for two hundred pounds, and addressed to Melbourne. - Captain Whalley pushed the paper into his waistcoat-pocket, took his - stick from under his arm, and walked down the street.</p> - - <p>It was a recently opened and untidy thoroughfare with rudimentary - side-walks and a soft layer of dust cushioning the whole width of - the road. One end touched the slummy street of Chinese shops near the - harbor, the other drove straight on, without houses, for a couple of - miles, through patches of jungle-like vegetation, to the yard gates - of the new Consolidated Docks Company. The crude frontages of the new - Government buildings alternated with the blank fencing of vacant plots, - and the view of the sky seemed to give an added spaciousness to the - broad vista. It was empty and shunned by natives after business - hours, as though they had expected to see one of the tigers from the - neighborhood of the New Waterworks on the hill coming at a loping canter - down the middle to get a Chinese shopkeeper for supper. Captain Whalley - was not dwarfed by the solitude of the grandly planned street. He - had too fine a presence for that. He was only a lonely figure walking - purposefully, with a great white beard like a pilgrim, and with a thick - stick that resembled a weapon. On one side the new Courts of Justice had - a low and unadorned portico of squat columns half concealed by a few old - trees left in the approach. On the other the pavilion wings of the - new Colonial Treasury came out to the line of the street. But Captain - Whalley, who had now no ship and no home, remembered in passing that - on that very site when he first came out from England there had stood a - fishing village, a few mat huts erected on piles between a muddy tidal - creek and a miry pathway that went writhing into a tangled wilderness - without any docks or waterworks.</p> - - <p>No ship--no home. And his poor Ivy away there had no home either. A - boarding-house is no sort of home though it may get you a living. His - feelings were horribly rasped by the idea of the boarding-house. In his - rank of life he had that truly aristocratic temperament characterized by - a scorn of vulgar gentility and by prejudiced views as to the derogatory - nature of certain occupations. For his own part he had always preferred - sailing merchant ships (which is a straightforward occupation) to buying - and selling merchandise, of which the essence is to get the better of - somebody in a bargain--an undignified trial of wits at best. His father - had been Colonel Whalley (retired) of the H. E. I. Company's service, - with very slender means besides his pension, but with distinguished - connections. He could remember as a boy how frequently waiters at the - inns, country tradesmen and small people of that sort, used to "My lord" - the old warrior on the strength of his appearance.</p> - - <p>Captain Whalley himself (he would have entered the Navy if his father - had not died before he was fourteen) had something of a grand air which - would have suited an old and glorious admiral; but he became lost like - a straw in the eddy of a brook amongst the swarm of brown and yellow - humanity filling a thoroughfare, that by contrast with the vast and - empty avenue he had left seemed as narrow as a lane and absolutely - riotous with life. The walls of the houses were blue; the shops of the - Chinamen yawned like cavernous lairs; heaps of nondescript merchandise - overflowed the gloom of the long range of arcades, and the fiery - serenity of sunset took the middle of the street from end to end with a - glow like the reflection of a fire. It fell on the bright colors and the - dark faces of the bare-footed crowd, on the pallid yellow backs of the - half-naked jostling coolies, on the accouterments of a tall Sikh trooper - with a parted beard and fierce mustaches on sentry before the gate of - the police compound. Looming very big above the heads in a red haze of - dust, the tightly packed car of the cable tramway navigated cautiously - up the human stream, with the incessant blare of its horn, in the manner - of a steamer groping in a fog.</p> - - <p>Captain Whalley emerged like a diver on the other side, and in the - desert shade between the walls of closed warehouses removed his hat to - cool his brow. A certain disrepute attached to the calling of a - landlady of a boarding-house. These women were said to be rapacious, - unscrupulous, untruthful; and though he contemned no class of his - fellow-creatures--God forbid!--these were suspicions to which it was - unseemly that a Whalley should lay herself open. He had not expostulated - with her, however. He was confident she shared his feelings; he was - sorry for her; he trusted her judgment; he considered it a merciful - dispensation that he could help her once more,--but in his aristocratic - heart of hearts he would have found it more easy to reconcile himself to - the idea of her turning seamstress. Vaguely he remembered reading years - ago a touching piece called the "Song of the Shirt." It was all very - well making songs about poor women. The granddaughter of Colonel - Whalley, the landlady of a boarding-house! Pooh! He replaced his hat, - dived into two pockets, and stopping a moment to apply a flaring match - to the end of a cheap cheroot, blew an embittered cloud of smoke at a - world that could hold such surprises.</p> - - <p>Of one thing he was certain--that she was the own child of a clever - mother. Now he had got over the wrench of parting with his ship, he - perceived clearly that such a step had been unavoidable. Perhaps he had - been growing aware of it all along with an unconfessed knowledge. But - she, far away there, must have had an intuitive perception of it, with - the pluck to face that truth and the courage to speak out--all the - qualities which had made her mother a woman of such excellent counsel.</p> - - <p>It would have had to come to that in the end! It was fortunate she had - forced his hand. In another year or two it would have been an utterly - barren sale. To keep the ship going he had been involving himself deeper - every year. He was defenseless before the insidious work of adversity, - to whose more open assaults he could present a firm front; like a - cliff that stands unmoved the open battering of the sea, with a lofty - ignorance of the treacherous backwash undermining its base. As it was, - every liability satisfied, her request answered, and owing no man a - penny, there remained to him from the proceeds a sum of five hundred - pounds put away safely. In addition he had upon his person some forty - odd dollars--enough to pay his hotel bill, providing he did not linger - too long in the modest bedroom where he had taken refuge.</p> - - <p>Scantily furnished, and with a waxed floor, it opened into one of - the side-verandas. The straggling building of bricks, as airy as a - bird-cage, resounded with the incessant flapping of rattan screens - worried by the wind between the white-washed square pillars of the - sea-front. The rooms were lofty, a ripple of sunshine flowed over the - ceilings; and the periodical invasions of tourists from some passenger - steamer in the harbor flitted through the wind-swept dusk of the - apartments with the tumult of their unfamiliar voices and impermanent - presences, like relays of migratory shades condemned to speed headlong - round the earth without leaving a trace. The babble of their irruptions - ebbed out as suddenly as it had arisen; the draughty corridors and - the long chairs of the verandas knew their sight-seeing hurry or - their prostrate repose no more; and Captain Whalley, substantial and - dignified, left well-nigh alone in the vast hotel by each light-hearted - skurry, felt more and more like a stranded tourist with no aim in view, - like a forlorn traveler without a home. In the solitude of his room he - smoked thoughtfully, gazing at the two sea-chests which held all that he - could call his own in this world. A thick roll of charts in a sheath - of sailcloth leaned in a corner; the flat packing-case containing the - portrait in oils and the three carbon photographs had been pushed under - the bed. He was tired of discussing terms, of assisting at surveys, of - all the routine of the business. What to the other parties was merely - the sale of a ship was to him a momentous event involving a radically - new view of existence. He knew that after this ship there would be no - other; and the hopes of his youth, the exercise of his abilities, every - feeling and achievement of his manhood, had been indissolubly connected - with ships. He had served ships; he had owned ships; and even the years - of his actual retirement from the sea had been made bearable by the idea - that he had only to stretch out his hand full of money to get a ship. He - had been at liberty to feel as though he were the owner of all the - ships in the world. The selling of this one was weary work; but when - she passed from him at last, when he signed the last receipt, it was as - though all the ships had gone out of the world together, leaving him on - the shore of inaccessible oceans with seven hundred pounds in his hands.</p> - - <p>Striding firmly, without haste, along the quay, Captain Whalley averted - his glances from the familiar roadstead. Two generations of seamen born - since his first day at sea stood between him and all these ships at the - anchorage. His own was sold, and he had been asking himself, What next?</p> - - <p>From the feeling of loneliness, of inward emptiness,--and of loss - too, as if his very soul had been taken out of him forcibly,--there had - sprung at first a desire to start right off and join his daughter. - "Here are the last pence," he would say to her; "take them, my dear. And - here's your old father: you must take him too."</p> - - <p>His soul recoiled, as if afraid of what lay hidden at the bottom of - this impulse. Give up! Never! When one is thoroughly weary all sorts of - nonsense come into one's head. A pretty gift it would have been for a - poor woman--this seven hundred pounds with the incumbrance of a hale old - fellow more than likely to last for years and years to come. Was he not - as fit to die in harness as any of the youngsters in charge of these - anchored ships out yonder? He was as solid now as ever he had been. But - as to who would give him work to do, that was another matter. Were he, - with his appearance and antecedents, to go about looking for a junior's - berth, people, he was afraid, would not take him seriously; or else if - he succeeded in impressing them, he would maybe obtain their pity, which - would be like stripping yourself naked to be kicked. He was not anxious - to give himself away for less than nothing. He had no use for anybody's - pity. On the other hand, a command--the only thing he could try for with - due regard for common decency--was not likely to be lying in wait - for him at the corner of the next street. Commands don't go a-begging - nowadays. Ever since he had come ashore to carry out the business of - the sale he had kept his ears open, but had heard no hint of one being - vacant in the port. And even if there had been one, his successful past - itself stood in his way. He had been his own employer too long. The only - credential he could produce was the testimony of his whole life. What - better recommendation could anyone require? But vaguely he felt that - the unique document would be looked upon as an archaic curiosity of the - Eastern waters, a screed traced in obsolete words--in a half-forgotten - language.</p> - - <h3>Chapter IV</h3> - - <p>Revolving these thoughts, he strolled on near the railings of the quay, - broad-chested, without a stoop, as though his big shoulders had never - felt the burden of the loads that must be carried between the cradle - and the grave. No single betraying fold or line of care disfigured the - reposeful modeling of his face. It was full and untanned; and the upper - part emerged, massively quiet, out of the downward flow of silvery hair, - with the striking delicacy of its clear complexion and the powerful - width of the forehead. The first cast of his glance fell on you candid - and swift, like a boy's; but because of the ragged snowy thatch of the - eyebrows the affability of his attention acquired the character of a - dark and searching scrutiny. With age he had put on flesh a little, had - increased his girth like an old tree presenting no symptoms of decay; - and even the opulent, lustrous ripple of white hairs upon his chest - seemed an attribute of unquenchable vitality and vigor.</p> - - <p>Once rather proud of his great bodily strength, and even of his personal - appearance, conscious of his worth, and firm in his rectitude, there had - remained to him, like the heritage of departed prosperity, the tranquil - bearing of a man who had proved himself fit in every sort of way for the - life of his choice. He strode on squarely under the projecting brim of - an ancient Panama hat. It had a low crown, a crease through its whole - diameter, a narrow black ribbon. Imperishable and a little discolored, - this headgear made it easy to pick him out from afar on thronged wharves - and in the busy streets. He had never adopted the comparatively modern - fashion of pipeclayed cork helmets. He disliked the form; and he hoped - he could manage to keep a cool head to the end of his life without all - these contrivances for hygienic ventilation. His hair was cropped close, - his linen always of immaculate whiteness; a suit of thin gray flannel, - worn threadbare but scrupulously brushed, floated about his burly limbs, - adding to his bulk by the looseness of its cut. The years had mellowed - the good-humored, imperturbable audacity of his prime into a temper - carelessly serene; and the leisurely tapping of his iron-shod stick - accompanied his footfalls with a self-confident sound on the flagstones. - It was impossible to connect such a fine presence and this unruffled - aspect with the belittling troubles of poverty; the man's whole - existence appeared to pass before you, facile and large, in the freedom - of means as ample as the clothing of his body.</p> - - <p>The irrational dread of having to break into his five hundred pounds for - personal expenses in the hotel disturbed the steady poise of his mind. - There was no time to lose. The bill was running up. He nourished the - hope that this five hundred would perhaps be the means, if everything - else failed, of obtaining some work which, keeping his body and soul - together (not a matter of great outlay), would enable him to be of use - to his daughter. To his mind it was her own money which he employed, as - it were, in backing her father and solely for her benefit. Once at work, - he would help her with the greater part of his earnings; he was good for - many years yet, and this boarding-house business, he argued to himself, - whatever the prospects, could not be much of a gold-mine from the first - start. But what work? He was ready to lay hold of anything in an honest - way so that it came quickly to his hand; because the five hundred pounds - must be preserved intact for eventual use. That was the great point. - With the entire five hundred one felt a substance at one's back; but - it seemed to him that should he let it dwindle to four-fifty or even - four-eighty, all the efficiency would be gone out of the money, as though - there were some magic power in the round figure. But what sort of work?</p> - - <p>Confronted by that haunting question as by an uneasy ghost, for whom he - had no exorcising formula, Captain Whalley stopped short on the apex - of a small bridge spanning steeply the bed of a canalized creek with - granite shores. Moored between the square blocks a seagoing Malay prau - floated half hidden under the arch of masonry, with her spars lowered - down, without a sound of life on board, and covered from stem to stern - with a ridge of palm-leaf mats. He had left behind him the overheated - pavements bordered by the stone frontages that, like the sheer face of - cliffs, followed the sweep of the quays; and an unconfined spaciousness - of orderly and sylvan aspect opened before him its wide plots of rolled - grass, like pieces of green carpet smoothly pegged out, its long ranges - of trees lined up in colossal porticos of dark shafts roofed with a - vault of branches.</p> - - <p>Some of these avenues ended at the sea. It was a terraced shore; and - beyond, upon the level expanse, profound and glistening like the gaze - of a dark-blue eye, an oblique band of stippled purple lengthened itself - indefinitely through the gap between a couple of verdant twin islets. - The masts and spars of a few ships far away, hull down in the outer - roads, sprang straight from the water in a fine maze of rosy lines - penciled on the clear shadow of the eastern board. Captain Whalley gave - them a long glance. The ship, once his own, was anchored out there. It - was staggering to think that it was open to him no longer to take a boat - at the jetty and get himself pulled off to her when the evening came. To - no ship. Perhaps never more. Before the sale was concluded, and till the - purchase-money had been paid, he had spent daily some time on board the - Fair Maid. The money had been paid this very morning, and now, all at - once, there was positively no ship that he could go on board of when he - liked; no ship that would need his presence in order to do her work--to - live. It seemed an incredible state of affairs, something too bizarre - to last. And the sea was full of craft of all sorts. There was that prau - lying so still swathed in her shroud of sewn palm-leaves--she too had - her indispensable man. They lived through each other, this Malay he had - never seen, and this high-sterned thing of no size that seemed to be - resting after a long journey. And of all the ships in sight, near and - far, each was provided with a man, the man without whom the finest ship - is a dead thing, a floating and purposeless log.</p> - - <p>After his one glance at the roadstead he went on, since there was - nothing to turn back for, and the time must be got through somehow. The - avenues of big trees ran straight over the Esplanade, cutting each other - at diverse angles, columnar below and luxuriant above. The interlaced - boughs high up there seemed to slumber; not a leaf stirred overhead: - and the reedy cast-iron lampposts in the middle of the road, gilt like - scepters, diminished in a long perspective, with their globes of white - porcelain atop, resembling a barbarous decoration of ostriches' eggs - displayed in a row. The flaming sky kindled a tiny crimson spark upon - the glistening surface of each glassy shell.</p> - - <p>With his chin sunk a little, his hands behind his back, and the end of - his stick marking the gravel with a faint wavering line at his heels, - Captain Whalley reflected that if a ship without a man was like a body - without a soul, a sailor without a ship was of not much more account - in this world than an aimless log adrift upon the sea. The log might be - sound enough by itself, tough of fiber, and hard to destroy--but what of - that! And a sudden sense of irremediable idleness weighted his feet like - a great fatigue.</p> - - <p>A succession of open carriages came bowling along the newly opened - sea-road. You could see across the wide grass-plots the discs of - vibration made by the spokes. The bright domes of the parasols swayed - lightly outwards like full-blown blossoms on the rim of a vase; and - the quiet sheet of dark-blue water, crossed by a bar of purple, made a - background for the spinning wheels and the high action of the horses, - whilst the turbaned heads of the Indian servants elevated above the line - of the sea horizon glided rapidly on the paler blue of the sky. In an - open space near the little bridge each turn-out trotted smartly in a - wide curve away from the sunset; then pulling up sharp, entered the main - alley in a long slow-moving file with the great red stillness of the sky - at the back. The trunks of mighty trees stood all touched with red on - the same side, the air seemed aflame under the high foliage, the - very ground under the hoofs of the horses was red. The wheels turned - solemnly; one after another the sunshades drooped, folding their colors - like gorgeous flowers shutting their petals at the end of the day. In - the whole half-mile of human beings no voice uttered a distinct word, - only a faint thudding noise went on mingled with slight jingling sounds, - and the motionless heads and shoulders of men and women sitting in - couples emerged stolidly above the lowered hoods--as if wooden. But one - carriage and pair coming late did not join the line.</p> - - <p>It fled along in a noiseless roll; but on entering the avenue one of the - dark bays snorted, arching his neck and shying against the steel-tipped - pole; a flake of foam fell from the bit upon the point of a satiny - shoulder, and the dusky face of the coachman leaned forward at once over - the hands taking a fresh grip of the reins. It was a long dark-green - landau, having a dignified and buoyant motion between the sharply - curved C-springs, and a sort of strictly official majesty in its supreme - elegance. It seemed more roomy than is usual, its horses seemed slightly - bigger, the appointments a shade more perfect, the servants perched - somewhat higher on the box. The dresses of three women--two young - and pretty, and one, handsome, large, of mature age--seemed to fill - completely the shallow body of the carriage. The fourth face was that - of a man, heavy lidded, distinguished and sallow, with a somber, thick, - iron-gray imperial and mustaches, which somehow had the air of solid - appendages. His Excellency--</p> - - <p>The rapid motion of that one equipage made all the others appear utterly - inferior, blighted, and reduced to crawl painfully at a snail's pace. - The landau distanced the whole file in a sort of sustained rush; the - features of the occupant whirling out of sight left behind an impression - of fixed stares and impassive vacancy; and after it had vanished in full - flight as it were, notwithstanding the long line of vehicles hugging the - curb at a walk, the whole lofty vista of the avenue seemed to lie open - and emptied of life in the enlarged impression of an august solitude.</p> - - <p>Captain Whalley had lifted his head to look, and his mind, disturbed in - its meditation, turned with wonder (as men's minds will do) to matters - of no importance. It struck him that it was to this port, where he had - just sold his last ship, that he had come with the very first he had - ever owned, and with his head full of a plan for opening a new trade - with a distant part of the Archipelago. The then governor had given - him no end of encouragement. No Excellency he--this Mr. Denham--this - governor with his jacket off; a man who tended night and day, so to - speak, the growing prosperity of the settlement with the self-forgetful - devotion of a nurse for a child she loves; a lone bachelor who lived as - in a camp with the few servants and his three dogs in what was called - then the Government Bungalow: a low-roofed structure on the half-cleared - slope of a hill, with a new flagstaff in front and a police orderly on - the veranda. He remembered toiling up that hill under a heavy sun for - his audience; the unfurnished aspect of the cool shaded room; the long - table covered at one end with piles of papers, and with two guns, a - brass telescope, a small bottle of oil with a feather stuck in the neck - at the other--and the flattering attention given to him by the man in - power. It was an undertaking full of risk he had come to expound, but a - twenty minutes' talk in the Government Bungalow on the hill had made it - go smoothly from the start. And as he was retiring Mr. Denham, already - seated before the papers, called out after him, "Next month the Dido - starts for a cruise that way, and I shall request her captain officially - to give you a look in and see how you get on." The Dido was one of the - smart frigates on the China station--and five-and-thirty years make a - big slice of time. Five-and-thirty years ago an enterprise like his had - for the colony enough importance to be looked after by a Queen's ship. - A big slice of time. Individuals were of some account then. Men like - himself; men, too, like poor Evans, for instance, with his red face, - his coal-black whiskers, and his restless eyes, who had set up the first - patent slip for repairing small ships, on the edge of the forest, in - a lonely bay three miles up the coast. Mr. Denham had encouraged that - enterprise too, and yet somehow poor Evans had ended by dying at - home deucedly hard up. His son, they said, was squeezing oil out of - cocoa-nuts for a living on some God-forsaken islet of the Indian Ocean; - but it was from that patent slip in a lonely wooded bay that had sprung - the workshops of the Consolidated Docks Company, with its three - graving basins carved out of solid rock, its wharves, its jetties, - its electric-light plant, its steam-power houses--with its gigantic - sheer-legs, fit to lift the heaviest weight ever carried afloat, and - whose head could be seen like the top of a queer white monument peeping - over bushy points of land and sandy promontories, as you approached the - New Harbor from the west.</p> - - <p>There had been a time when men counted: there were not so many carriages - in the colony then, though Mr. Denham, he fancied, had a buggy. And - Captain Whalley seemed to be swept out of the great avenue by the swirl - of a mental backwash. He remembered muddy shores, a harbor without - quays, the one solitary wooden pier (but that was a public work) jutting - out crookedly, the first coal-sheds erected on Monkey Point, that caught - fire mysteriously and smoldered for days, so that amazed ships came - into a roadstead full of sulphurous smoke, and the sun hung blood-red - at midday. He remembered the things, the faces, and something more - besides--like the faint flavor of a cup quaffed to the bottom, like a - subtle sparkle of the air that was not to be found in the atmosphere of - to-day.</p> - - <p>In this evocation, swift and full of detail like a flash of magnesium - light into the niches of a dark memorial hall, Captain Whalley - contemplated things once important, the efforts of small men, the growth - of a great place, but now robbed of all consequence by the greatness - of accomplished facts, by hopes greater still; and they gave him for a - moment such an almost physical grip upon time, such a comprehension of - our unchangeable feelings, that he stopped short, struck the ground with - his stick, and ejaculated mentally, "What the devil am I doing here!" He - seemed lost in a sort of surprise; but he heard his name called out in - wheezy tones once, twice--and turned on his heels slowly.</p> - - <p>He beheld then, waddling towards him autocratically, a man of an - old-fashioned and gouty aspect, with hair as white as his own, but with - shaved, florid cheeks, wearing a necktie--almost a neckcloth--whose - stiff ends projected far beyond his chin; with round legs, round arms, - a round body, a round face--generally producing the effect of his short - figure having been distended by means of an air-pump as much as the - seams of his clothing would stand. This was the Master-Attendant of the - port. A master-attendant is a superior sort of harbor-master; a person, - out in the East, of some consequence in his sphere; a Government - official, a magistrate for the waters of the port, and possessed of vast - but ill-defined disciplinary authority over seamen of all classes. - This particular Master-Attendant was reported to consider it miserably - inadequate, on the ground that it did not include the power of life - and death. This was a jocular exaggeration. Captain Eliott was fairly - satisfied with his position, and nursed no inconsiderable sense of such - power as he had. His conceited and tyrannical disposition did not allow - him to let it dwindle in his hands for want of use. The uproarious, - choleric frankness of his comments on people's character and conduct - caused him to be feared at bottom; though in conversation many pretended - not to mind him in the least, others would only smile sourly at the - mention of his name, and there were even some who dared to pronounce him - "a meddlesome old ruffian." But for almost all of them one of Captain - Eliott's outbreaks was nearly as distasteful to face as a chance of - annihilation.</p> - - <style> - body { - padding: 15px; - } - - .pointer { - padding: 15px; - background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.4); - color: white; - border-radius: 10px; - pointer-events: none; - opacity: 0; - - transition: opacity 300ms; - -webkit-transition: opacity 300ms; - } - - .pointer.show { - opacity: 1; - } - </style> - - - <div class="pointer"></div> - - <script src="//github.hubspot.com/tether/dist/js/tether.js"></script> - <script> - new Tether({ - element: '.pointer', - attachment: 'middle right', - targetAttachment: 'middle left', - targetModifier: 'scroll-handle', - target: document.body - }); - - var headers = document.querySelectorAll('h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6'); - var hideTimeout = null; - var pointer = document.querySelector('.pointer') - - var getSection = function(){ - var closest, closestTop; - for (var i=0; i < headers.length; i++){ - var rect = headers[i].getBoundingClientRect(); - - if (closestTop === undefined || (rect.top < 0 && rect.top > closestTop)){ - closestTop = rect.top; - closest = headers[i]; - } - } - return closest.innerHTML; - } - - document.addEventListener('scroll', function(){ - var percentage = Math.floor((100 * Math.max(0, pageYOffset)) / (document.body.scrollHeight - innerHeight)) + '%' - pointer.innerHTML = getSection() + ' - ' + percentage - - pointer.classList.add('show'); - - if (hideTimeout) - clearTimeout(hideTimeout); - - hideTimeout = setTimeout(function(){ - pointer.classList.remove('show'); - }, 1000); - }); - </script> - </body> -</html> |