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But you cant suspect me of anything, he muttered, negligently. The Commanding Officer thought: Why should he say this? Immediately afterwards the man before him added: My cargo is for an English port. His voice had turned husky for the moment. The Commanding Officer reflected: Thats true. There can be nothing. I cant suspect him. Yet why was he lying with steam up* in this fogand then, hearing us come in, why didnt he give some sign of life? Why? Could it be anything else but a guilty conscience? He could tell by the leadsmen that this was a man-of-war. Yeswhy? The Commanding Officer went on thinking: Suppose I ask him and then watch his face. He will betray himself in some way. Its perfectly plain that the fellow has been drinking. Yes, he has been drinking; but he will have a lie ready all the same. The Commanding Officer was one of those men who are made morally and almost physically uncomfortable by the mere thought of having to beat down a lie. He shrank from the act in scorn and disgust, which was invincible because more temperamental than moral. So he went out on deck instead and had the crew mustered formally for his inspection. He found them very much what the report of the boarding officer had led him to expect. And from their answers to his questions he could discover no flaw in the log-book story. He dismissed them. His impression of them wasa picked lot; have been promised a fistful of money each if this came off; all slightly anxious, but not frightened. Not a single one of them likely to give the show away. They dont feel in danger of their life. They know England and English ways too well! He felt alarmed at catching himself thinking as if his vaguest suspicions were turning into a certitude. For, indeed, there was no shadow of reason for his inferences. There was nothing to give away. He returned to the chart-room. The Northman had lingered behind there; and something subtly different in his bearing, more bold in his blue, glassy stare, induced the Commanding Officer to conclude that the fellow had snatched at the opportunity to take another swig at the bottle he must have had concealed somewhere. He noticed, too, that the Northman on meeting his eyes put on an elaborately surprised expression. At least, it seemed elaborated. Nothing could be trusted. And the Englishman felt himself with astonishing conviction faced by an enormous lie, solid like a wall, with no way round to get at the truth, whose ugly murderous face he seemed to see peeping over at him with a cynical grin. I dare say, he began, suddenly, you are wondering at my proceedings, though I am not detaining you, am I? You wouldnt dare to move in this fog? I dont know where I am, the Northman ejaculated, earnestly. I really dont. He looked around as if the very chart-room fittings were strange to him. The Commanding Officer asked him whether he had not seen any unusual objects floating about while he was at sea. Objects! What objects? We were groping blind in the fog for days. We had a few clear intervals, said the Commanding Officer. And Ill tell you what we have seen and the conclusion Ive come to about it. He told him in a few words. He heard the sound of a sharp breath indrawn through closed teeth. The Northman with his hand on the table stood absolutely motionless and dumb. He stood as if thunderstruck. Then he produced a fatuous smile. |
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