alistairmaclean.bearisland-第32部分

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d　if　Captain　Imrie　was　even　dimly　aware　of　this　thought　transference　process；　of　the　substitution　of　the　fearful　things；　the　dreadful　things　of　long　ago　for　the　unrealised　awareness　that　such　things　were　not　confined　to　the　actions　of　overt　warfare；　that　violent　death　acknowledged　no　restrictions　in　time　and　space；　that　the　bleak　and　barren　waters　of　the　Barents　Sea　were　its　habitat　and　its　home。　I　wondered　how　many　others　of　those　present　felt　this　atavistic　fear；　this　oddly　nameless　dread　so　often　encountered　in　the　loneliest　and　most　desolate　places　on　earth；　a　dread　that　reaches　back　over　the　aeons　to　primitive　man　who　as　yet　knew　not　fire；　to　those　unthinkably　distant　ancestors　who　crouched　in　terror　in　their　lightless　caves　while　the　forces　of　evil　and　darkness　walked　abroad　in　the　night：　a　fear　that；　here　and　now；　was　all　too　readily　reinforced　and　pounded　by　the　sudden；　violent；　and　inexplicable　deaths　of　three　of　their　pany　the　previous　night。　It　was　hard　to　tell；　I　thought；　just　who　was　feeling　affected　by　such　primeval　stirrings　of　foreboding　for　mankind　does　not　readily　acknowledge　even　to　itself；　far　less　show　or　discuss；　the　existence　of　such　irrationally　childlike　superstitions。　Captain　Imrie　and　Mr。　Stokes；　without　a　doubt：　they　had　gone　into　a　corner　by　themselves　and　were　staring　down；　unseeingly；　I　was　sure；　and　certainly　without　speaking；　at　the　glasses　in　their　hands；　and　as　the　two　of　them　rarely　if　ever　sat　together　without　discussing；　at　great　length；　matters　of　the　gravest　import；　this　was　highly　significant　in　itself。　Neal　Divine；　more　hollow…checked　than　ever　but　apparently　slightly　recovered　from　his　very　low　state　of　the　previous　evening；　sat　by　himself；　continuously　twirling　the　empty　glass　in　his　hand；　his　usual　nervous　preoccupied　self；　but　whether　he　was　preoccupied　with　mal　de　nter；　the　thought　that　he　was　about　to　begin　his　directorial　duties　and　so　consequently　be　exposed　to　the　lash　of　Gerran's　tongue　or　whether　he；　too；　was　feeling　fingers　from　the　dead　past　reach　deep　into　him　was　impossible　to　say。
　in〃　and　Goin〃　was　seated　by　Otto　at　the　head　of　the　table　and　they；　too；　were　silent。　I　wondered　just　what　the　relationship　between　the　two　men　was。　They　seemed　to　he　on　cordial　enough　terms　but　they　only　sought　each　other　out；　I　had　observed；　when　questions　of　business　were　to　be　discussed。　It　could　well　have　been　that；　personally；　they　had　little　in　mon；　but　the　fact　that　in〃　and　Goin〃　had　recently　been　made　vice…president　and　heir…apparent　to　Olympus　Productions　seemed　to　speak　highly　enough　of　Otto's　regard　for　him。　And　as　they　were　together　now　and　not　talking　I　assumed　that　they　were　pondering　over　matters　similar　to　those　that　were　engaging　the　attention　of　Imrie　and　myself。
　The　Three　Apostles　weren't　talking；　but　that　meant　nothing；　when　they　were　deprived　of　their　instruments；　their　music　magazines　and　their　garishly　primary…coloured　ics；　the　presence　of　all　of　which　they　had　probably　deemed　as　being　inappropriate　in　the　present　circumstances；　they　were　habitually　bereft　of　speech。　Stryker；　still　in　solicitously　close　attendance　upon　his　wife；　was　talking　quietly　to　the　Count；　while　the　Duke　was　conspicuously　not　talking　to　his　cabin…mate　Eddie；　but　as　they　were　rarely　on　speaking　terms　anyway；　this　was　hardly　significant。　I　became　aware　that　Lonnie　Gilbert　was　at　my　elbow　and　I　wondered　what　degree；　if　any；　of　the　underlying　significance　of　Captain　Imrie's　words　had　penetrated　his　befuddled　mind。　Lonnie　was　clutching　a　glass　of　Scotch；　both　container　and　contents　of　genuine　family　size；　a　marked　contrast　to　the　relatively　small　portions　he'd　been　pouring　himself　in　the　lounge　bar　about　midnight：　I　could　only　assume　that　somewhere　in　the　remoter　recesses　of　Lonnie's　mind　there　lurked　some　vestigial　traces　of　conscience　which　permitted　him　only　modest　amounts　of　hooch　not　honestly　e　by。
　Trivy　and　calumny　and　hate　and　pain　and　that　unrest　which　men　miscall　delight　shall　touch　them　not　and　torture　not　again；〃　Lonnie　intoned。　He　tilted　his　glass；　lowered　the　liquid　level　by　two　fingers　and　smacked　his　lips。　Trom　the　contagion…〃
　〃Lonnie。〃　I　nodded　at　the　glass。　〃When　did　you　start　this　morning？〃
　〃Start。　My　dear　fellow；　I　never　stopped。　A　sleepless　night。　From　the　contagion　of　the　world's　slow　stain　they　are　secure　and　now　can　never　mourn　the　heart　grown　cold；　the　head　grown　grey…〃
　Aware　that　he　had　lost　his　audience；　Lonnie　broke　off　and　followed　my　line　of　sight。　Mary　Darling　and　Allen；　proprieties　observed；　were　leaving。　Mary　hesitated；　stopped　in　front　of　Judith　Haynes's　chair；　smiled　and　said：　〃Good　morning；　Miss　Haynes。　I　hope　you're　feeling　better　today？〃
　Judith　Haynes　smiled；　a　fractionally　glimpsed　set　of　perfect　teeth；　then　looked　away：　a　false　smile　meant　to　be　seen　and　understood　as　a　false　smile；　followed　by　a　plete　and　contemptuous　dismissal。　I　saw　colour　stain　Mary　Darling's　cheeks　and　she　made　as　if　to　speak　but　Allen；　his　lips　tight；　took　her　arm　and　urged　her　gently　towards　the　lee　door。
　〃Well；　well；〃　I　said。　I　wonder　what　all　that　was　about。　A　clearly　offended　Miss　Haynes　but　I　can't　conceive　of　our　little　Mary　giving　offence　to　anybody。〃
　Tut　she　has　done；　my　boy；　she　has　done。　Our　Judith　is　one　of　those　sad　and　unfortunate　females　who　can't　abide　any　other　female　who　is　younger；　better　looking　or　more　intelligent　than　she　is。　Our　little　Mary　offends　on　at　least　two　of　those　counts。〃
　〃You　disappoint　me；〃　I　said。　〃Here　I　was；　manfully　trying　to　discount　…or　at　least　ignore…what　appears　to　be　the　universally　held　opinion　that　Judith　Haynes　is　a　plete　and　utter　bitch　and　now…'
　〃And　you　were　right。〃　Lonnie　regarded　his　empty　glass　with　an　expression　of　faint　astonishment。　〃She　isn't　a　bitch；　at　least　she　doesn't　make　a　career　out　of　it；　except　inadvertently。　To　those　who　offer　no　threat　or　petition；　little　children　or　pets；　she　is　capable　of　generous　impulses；　even　affection。　But　that　apart；　a　poor　poor　creature；　incapable　of　loving　or　inspiring　love　in　others；　to　wit　and　in　short；　a　loveless　soul；　perverse　but　pitiable；　a　person　who　having　once　seen　herself　and　not　liking　what　she　has　seen；　turns　away　from　reality　and　takes　refuge　in　misanthropic　fantasy。〃　Lonnie　executed　a　swift　sideways　scuttle　in　the　direction　of　an　unattended　Scotch　bottle；　replenished　his　glass　with　the　speed　and　expertise　born　of　a　lifetime　of　practice；　returned　happily　and　warmed　to　his　theme。
　〃Sick；　sick；　sick　and　it　is　the　sick；　not　the　whole；　who　require　our　help　and　sympathy。〃　Lonnie　could；　on　occasion；　sound　very　pontifical　indeed。
　〃She's　one　of　the　hapless　band　of　the　world's　willing　walking　wounded　…how's　that；　four　was　and　never　a　stutter…who　take　a　positive　delight　in　being　hurt；　in　being　affronted；　and　if　the　hurt　is　not　really　there；　why；　then；　all　the　better；　they　can　imagine　one　even　closer　to　the　heart's　desire。
　For　those　unfortunates　who　love　only　themselves　the　loving　embrace　of　self…pity；　close　hugged　like　an　old　and　dear　friend；　is　the　supreme；　the　most　precious　luxury　in　life。　I　can　assure　you；　my　dear　fellow；　that　no　hippo　ever　wallowed　in　his　African　mud　bath　with　half　the　relish…'
　〃I'm　sure　you're　right；　Lonnie；〃　I　said；　〃and　a　very　apt　analogy　that　is；　too。〃　I　wasn't　listening　to　him　any　more；　my　attention　had　been　caught　and　held　by　the　fleeting　glimpse　I'd　had　of　a　figure　hurrying　by　on　the　deck　outside。　Heissman；　I　was　almost　sure　it　was　Heissman；　and　if　it　were　I'd　three　immediate　questions　that　asked　for　equally　immediate　answers。
　Heissman　was　rarely　observed　to　move　at　any　but　the　most　deliberate　and　leisurely　speed　so　why　the　uncharacteristic　haste？　Why；　if　he　were　moving　aft；　did　he　choose　the　weather　instead　of　the　lee　side　of　the　superstructure　unless　he　hoped　to　avoid　being　observed　through　the　largely　snow…obscured　windows　on　the　weather　side　of　the　saloon？　And　what；　in　view　of　his　well…known　and　almost　pathological　aversion　to　cold…an　inevitable　legacy；　one　supposed；　of　his　long　years　in　Siberia…was　he　doing　on　the　upper　deck　anyway？　I　clapped　Lonnie　on　the　shoulder。　〃Tack；　as　the　saying　goes；　in　a　trice。　I　have　to　visit　the　sick。〃
　I　left；　not　hurriedly；　through　the　lee　door；　then　paused　to　see　if　anyone　was　interested　enou