Complete Works
a clout on the bloomin’ mouth — blast their... S’elp me!... Yer will pay fur it with yer money. I’m goin’ ter ‘ave it in a minyte; as soon has ye’re dead, yer bloomin’ useless fraud. That’s the man I am. An’ ye’re a thing — a bloody thing. Yah — you corpse!” He flung at Jimmy’s head the biscuit he had been all the time clutching hard, but it only grazed, and striking with a loud crack the bulkhead beyond burst like a hand-grenade into flying pieces. James Wait, as if wounded mortally, fell back on the pillow. His lips ceased to move and the rolling eyes became quiet and stared upwards with an intense and steady persistence. Donkin was surprised; he sat suddenly on the chest, and looked down, exhausted and gloomy. After a moment, he began to mutter to himself, “Die, you beggar — die. Somebody’ll come in... I wish I was drunk... Ten days... oysters...” He looked up and spoke louder. “No... No more for yer... no more bloomin’ gals that cook oysters... Who’s yer? It’s my turn now... I wish I was drunk; I would soon giv’ you a leg up. That’s where yer bound to go. Feet fust, through a port... Splash! Never see yer any more. Overboard! Good ‘nuff fur yer.” Jimmy’s head moved slightly and he turned his eyes to Donkin’s face; a gaze unbelieving, desolated and appealing, of a child frightened by the menace of being shut up alone in the dark. Donkin observed him from the chest with hopeful eyes; then, without rising, tried the lid. Locked. “I wish I was drunk,” he muttered and getting up listened anxiously to the distant sound of footsteps on the deck. They approached — ceased. Some one yawned interminably just outside the door, and the footsteps went away shuffling lazily. Donkin’s fluttering heart eased its pace, and when he looked towards the bunk again Jimmy was staring as before at the white beam. — ”‘Ow d’yer feel now?” he asked. — ”Bad,” breathed out Jimmy.
Donkin sat down patient and purposeful. Every half-hour the bells spoke to one another ringing along the whole length of the ship. Jimmy’s respiration was so rapid that it couldn’t be counted, so faint that it couldn’t be heard. His eyes were terrified as though he had been looking at unspeakable horrors; and by his face one could see that he was thinking of abominable things. Suddenly with an incredibly strong and heartbreaking voice he sobbed out:
“Overboard!... I!... My God!” Donkin writhed a little on the box. He looked unwillingly. James Wait was mute. His two long bony hands smoothed the blanket upwards, as though he had wished to gather it all up under his chin. A tear, a big solitary tear, escaped from the corner of his eye and, without touching the hollow cheek, fell on the pillow. His throat rattled faintly.
And Donkin, watching the end of that hateful nigger, felt the anguishing grasp of a great sorrow on his heart at the thought that he himself, some day, would have to go through it all — just like this — perhaps! His eyes became moist. “Poor beggar,” he murmured. The night seemed to go by in a flash; it seemed to him he could hear the irremediable rush of precious minutes. How long would this blooming affair last? Too long surely. No luck. He could not restrain himself. He got up and approached the bunk. Wait did not stir. Only his eyes appeared alive and his hands continued their smoothing movement with a horrible and tireless industry. Donkin bent over.
“Jimmy,” he called low. There was no answer, but the rattle stopped. “D’yer see me?” he asked, trembling. Jimmy’s chest heaved. Donkin, looking away, bent his ear to Jimmy’s lips, and heard a sound like the rustle of a single dry leaf driven along the smooth sand of a beach. It shaped itself.
“Light... the lamp... and... go,” breathed out Wait.
Donkin, instinctively, glanced over his shoulder at the brilliant flame; then, still looking away, felt under the pillow for a key. He got it at once and for the next few minutes remained on his knees shakily but swiftly busy inside the box. When he got up, his face — for the first time in his life — had a pink flush — perhaps of triumph.
He slipped the key under the pillow again, avoiding to glance at Jimmy, who had not moved. He turned his back squarely from the bunk, and started to the door as though he were going to walk a mile. At his second stride he had his nose against it. He clutched the handle cautiously, but at that moment
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