The Blue Lagoon / Голубая лагуна. Генри де Вэр Стэкпул

I can’t be after lookin’ for it now.”

      He held out the coat and an almost invisible hand took it; at the same moment a terrible blow shook the sea and sky.

      “There she goes,” said Mr Button; “an’ me old fiddle an’ all. Don’t be frightened, childer. Now we’ll all halloo togither—are yiz ready?”

      “Ay, ay,” said Dick, who was a picker-up of sea terms[59].

      “Halloo!” yelled Pat.

      “Halloo! Halloo!” joined Dick and Emmeline.

      A faint reply came, but from where, it was difficult to say. The old man rowed a few strokes and then paused on his oars. The surface of the sea was absolutely still, and silence closed round them like a ring.

      The sun, could they have seen it, was now leaving the horizon.

      They called again. Then they waited, but there was no response.

      “There’s no use yellin’ like bulls to chaps that’s deaf as adders[60],” said the old sailor, shipping his oars; then he gave another shout, with the same result.

      “Mr Button!” came Emmeline’s voice.

      “What is it, honey?”

      “I’m—m—’fraid.”

      “You wait wan minit till I find the shawl—here it is!—an’ I’ll wrap you up in it.”

      He got cautiously to the stern and took Emmeline in his arms.

      “Don’t want the shawl,” said Emmeline; “I’m not so much afraid in your coat.” The rough, tobacco-smelling old coat gave her courage somehow.

      “Well, then, keep it on. Dicky, are you cowld?”

      “I’ve got into daddy’s great-coat; he left it behind him.”

      “Well, then, I’ll put the shawl round me own shoulders, for it’s cowld I am. Are y’ hungry, childer?”

      “No,” said Dick, “but I’m drefful—yow–”

      “Sleepy, is it? Well, down you get in the bottom of the boat, and here’s the shawl for a pillow. I’ll be rowin’ again in a minit to keep meself warm.”

      He buttoned the top button of the coat.

      “I’m a’right,” murmured Emmeline in a dreamy voice.

      “Shut your eyes tight,” replied Mr Button.

      “She’s off[61],” murmured Mr Button to himself. Then he laid her gently down beside Dick. He shifted forward, moving like a crab. Then he put his hand to his pocket for his pipe and tobacco box. They were in his coat pocket, but Emmeline was in his coat. To search for them would be to awaken her.

      The darkness of night was now adding itself to the blindness of the fog. The oarsman could not see even the thole pins[62]. For a moment he thought of awakening the children to keep him company, but he was ashamed. Then he took to the oars again, and rowed “by the feel of the water.” The creak of the oars was like a companion’s voice, the exercise calmed his fears. Now and again, forgetful of the sleeping children, he gave a halloo, and paused to listen. But no answer came.

      Then he continued rowing, long, steady, laborious strokes, each taking him further and further from the boats that he was never to see again.

      Chapter VI

      Dawn on a Wide, Wide Sea

      “Is it aslape I’ve been?” said Mr Button, suddenly awaking with a start.

      He must have slept for hours, for now a warm, gentle wind was blowing, the moon was shining, and the fog was gone.

      “Is it dhraming I’ve been?” continued the awakened one. “Where am I at all, at all? I dreamt I’d gone aslape on the main-hatch and the ship was blown up with powther, and it’s all come true.”

      “Mr Button!” came a small voice from the stern (Emmeline’s).

      “What is it, honey?”

      “Where are we now?”

      “Sure, we’re afloat on the say; where else would we be?”

      “Where’s uncle?”

      “He’s beyant there in the long-boat—he’ll be afther us in a minit.”

      “I want a drink.”

      He filled a tin cup, and gave her a drink. Then he took his pipe and tobacco from his coat pocket.

      She almost immediately fell asleep again beside Dick, who had not stirred or moved; and the old sailor, standing up and steadying himself, cast his eyes round the horizon. Not a sign of sail or boat was there on all the moonlit sea. It was possible that the boats might be near enough to show up at daybreak.

      But nothing is more mysterious than the currents of the sea. The ocean is an ocean of rivers, some fast flowing, some slow, and a league[63] from where you are drifting at the rate of a mile an hour another boat may be drifting two.

      A slight warm breeze was frosting the water, blending moonshine and star shimmer; the ocean lay like a lake, yet the nearest mainland was perhaps a thousand miles away.

      The thoughts of youth may be long, but not longer than the thoughts of this old sailor man smoking his pipe under the stars. Thoughts as long as the world is round.

      I doubt if Paddy Button could have told you the name of the first ship he ever sailed in. If you had asked him, he would probably have replied: “I disremimber; it was to the Baltic, and cruel cowld weather, and I was say-sick—till I near brought me boots up[64].”

      So he sat smoking his pipe, and calling to mind wild drunken scenes and palm-shadowed harbours, and the men and the women he had known—such men and such women! Then he fell asleep again, and when he awoke the moon had gone.

      Presently, and almost at a stroke, a pencil of fire ruled a line along the eastern horizon, and the eastern sky became more beautiful than a rose leaf in May. The line of fire contracted into one spot—it was the rising sun.

      As the light increased the sky above became of a blue impossible to imagine unless seen. The light was music to the soul. It was day.

      “Daddy!” suddenly cried Dick, sitting up in the sunlight and rubbing his eyes with his open palms. “Where are we?”

      “All right, Dicky, me son!” cried the old sailor, who had been standing up looking around for the boats. “Your daddy’s safe; he’ll be wid us in a minit, an’ bring another ship along with him. So you’re awake, are you, Em’line?”

      Emmeline, sitting up in the old pilot coat, nodded in reply without speaking.

      Did she guess that things were different from what Mr Button was making them out to be? Who can tell?

      She was wearing an old cap of Dick’s, which Mrs Stannard in the hurry and confusion had put on her head. It was pushed to one side, and she made a funny enough little figure as she sat up in the early morning brightness, dressed in the old salt-stained coat beside Dick, whose straw hat[65] was somewhere in the bottom of the boat, and whose auburn locks were blowing in the faint breeze.

      “Hurroo!” cried Dick, looking around at the blue and sparkling water. “I’m goin’ to be a sailor, aren’t I, Paddy? You’ll let me sail the boat, won’t you, Paddy, an’ show me how to row?”

      “Aisy does it[66],” said Paddy, taking hold of the child. “I haven’t a sponge or towel, but I’ll just wash your face in salt wather and lave you to dry in the sun.”

      He filled

59

который подхватывал морские термины

60

глухой как пень

61

Она уснула

62

уключины

63

Лье – старинная мера длины, равная трём милям.

64

я чуть коньки не отбросил

65

соломенная шляпа

66

easy does it – это проще простого