the mirror of the sea- 第30部分

hastening　towards　the　Cimmerian　shore；　we　may　see　here　and　there；



in　the　gray　throng；　some　figure　glowing　with　a　faint　radiance；　as



though　it　had　caught　all　the　light　of　our　already　crepuscular　sky。



And　by　this　glow　we　may　recognise　the　faces　of　our　true　adventures；



of　the　once　unbidden　guests　entertained　unawares　in　our　young　days。







If　the　Mediterranean；　the　venerable　（and　sometimes　atrociously　ill…



tempered）　nurse　of　all　navigators；　was　to　rock　my　youth；　the



providing　of　the　cradle　necessary　for　that　operation　was　entrusted



by　Fate　to　the　most　casual　assemblage　of　irresponsible　young　men



（all；　however；　older　than　myself）　that；　as　if　drunk　with　Provencal



sunshine；　frittered　life　away　in　joyous　levity　on　the　model　of



Balzac's　〃Histoire　des　Treize〃　qualified　by　a　dash　of　romance　DE



CAPE　ET　D'EPEE。







She　who　was　my　cradle　in　those　years　had　been　built　on　the　River　of



Savona　by　a　famous　builder　of　boats；　was　rigged　in　Corsica　by



another　good　man；　and　was　described　on　her　papers　as　a　'tartane'　of



sixty　tons。　　In　reality；　she　was　a　true　balancelle；　with　two　short



masts　raking　forward　and　two　curved　yards；　each　as　long　as　her



hull；　a　true　child　of　the　Latin　lake；　with　a　spread　of　two　enormous



sails　resembling　the　pointed　wings　on　a　sea…bird's　slender　body；



and　herself；　like　a　bird　indeed；　skimming　rather　than　sailing　the



seas。







Her　name　was　the　Tremolino。　　How　is　this　to　be　translated？　　The



Quiverer？　　What　a　name　to　give　the　pluckiest　little　craft　that　ever



dipped　her　sides　in　angry　foam！　　I　had　felt　her；　it　is　true；



trembling　for　nights　and　days　together　under　my　feet；　but　it　was



with　the　high…strung　tenseness　of　her　faithful　courage。　　In　her



short；　but　brilliant；　career　she　has　taught　me　nothing；　but　she　has



given　me　everything。　　I　owe　to　her　the　awakened　love　for　the　sea



that；　with　the　quivering　of　her　swift　little　body　and　the　humming



of　the　wind　under　the　foot　of　her　lateen　sails；　stole　into　my　heart



with　a　sort　of　gentle　violence；　and　brought　my　imagination　under



its　despotic　sway。　　The　Tremolino！　　To　this　day　I　cannot　utter　or



even　write　that　name　without　a　strange　tightening　of　the　breast　and



the　gasp　of　mingled　delight　and　dread　of　one's　first　passionate



experience。















XLI。















We　four　formed　（to　use　a　term　well　understood　nowadays　in　every



social　sphere）　a　〃syndicate〃　owning　the　Tremolino：　　an



international　and　astonishing　syndicate。　　And　we　were　all　ardent



Royalists　of　the　snow…white　Legitimist　complexion　…　Heaven　only



knows　why！　　In　all　associations　of　men　there　is　generally　one　who；



by　the　authority　of　age　and　of　a　more　experienced　wisdom；　imparts　a



collective　character　to　the　whole　set。　　If　I　mention　that　the



oldest　of　us　was　very　old；　extremely　old　…　nearly　thirty　years　old



…　and　that　he　used　to　declare　with　gallant　carelessness；　〃I　live　by



my　sword；〃　I　think　I　have　given　enough　information　on　the　score　of



our　collective　wisdom。　　He　was　a　North　Carolinian　gentleman；　J。　M。



K。　B。　were　the　initials　of　his　name；　and　he　really　did　live　by　the



sword；　as　far　as　I　know。　　He　died　by　it；　too；　later　on；　in　a



Balkanian　squabble；　in　the　cause　of　some　Serbs　or　else　Bulgarians；



who　were　neither　Catholics　nor　gentlemen　…　at　least；　not　in　the



exalted　but　narrow　sense　he　attached　to　that　last　word。







Poor　J。　M。　K。　B。；　AMERICAIN；　CATHOLIQUE；　ET　GENTILHOMME；　as　he　was



disposed　to　describe　himself　in　moments　of　lofty　expansion！　　Are



there　still　to　be　found　in　Europe　gentlemen　keen　of　face　and



elegantly　slight　of　body；　of　distinguished　aspect；　with　a



fascinating　drawing…room　manner　and　with　a　dark；　fatal　glance；　who



live　by　their　swords；　I　wonder？　　His　family　had　been　ruined　in　the



Civil　War；　I　fancy；　and　seems　for　a　decade　or　so　to　have　led　a



wandering　life　in　the　Old　World。　　As　to　Henry　C…；　the　next　in　age



and　wisdom　of　our　band；　he　had　broken　loose　from　the　unyielding



rigidity　of　his　family；　solidly　rooted；　if　I　remember　rightly；　in　a



well…to…do　London　suburb。　　On　their　respectable　authority　he



introduced　himself　meekly　to　strangers　as　a　〃black　sheep。〃　　I　have



never　seen　a　more　guileless　specimen　of　an　outcast。　　Never。







However；　his　people　had　the　grace　to　send　him　a　little　money　now



and　then。　　Enamoured　of　the　South；　of　Provence；　of　its　people；　its



life；　its　sunshine　and　its　poetry；　narrow…chested；　tall　and　short…



sighted；　he　strode　along　the　streets　and　the　lanes；　his　long　feet



projecting　far　in　advance　of　his　body；　and　his　white　nose　and



gingery　moustache　buried　in　an　open　book：　　for　he　had　the　habit　of



reading　as　he　walked。　　How　he　avoided　falling　into　precipices；　off



the　quays；　or　down　staircases　is　a　great　mystery。　　The　sides　of　his



overcoat　bulged　out　with　pocket　editions　of　various　poets。　　When



not　engaged　in　reading　Virgil；　Homer；　or　Mistral；　in　parks；



restaurants；　streets；　and　suchlike　public　places；　he　indited



sonnets　（in　French）　to　the　eyes；　ears；　chin；　hair；　and　other



visible　perfections　of　a　nymph　called　Therese；　the　daughter；



honesty　compels　me　to　state；　of　a　certain　Madame　Leonore　who　kept　a



small　cafe　for　sailors　in　one　of　the　narrowest　streets　of　the　old



town。







No　more　charming　face；　clear…cut　like　an　antique　gem；　and　delicate



in　colouring　like　the　petal　of　a　flower；　had　ever　been　set　on；



alas！　a　somewhat　squat　body。　　He　read　his　verses　aloud　to　her　in



the　very　cafe　with　the　innocence　of　a　little　child　and　the　vanity



of　a　poet。　　We　followed　him　there　willingly　enough；　if　only　to



watch　the　divine　Therese　laugh；　under　the　vigilant　black　eyes　of



Madame　Leonore；　her　mother。　　She　laughed　very　prettily；　not　so　much



at　the　sonnets；　which　she　could　not　but　esteem；　as　at　poor　Henry's



French　accent；　which　was　unique；　resembling　the　warbling　of　birds；



if　birds　ever　warbled　with　a　stuttering；　nasal　intonation。







Our　third　partner　was　Roger　P。　de　la　S…；　the　most　Scandinavian…



looking　of　Provencal　squires；　fair；　and　six　feet　high；　as　became　a



descendant　of　sea…roving　Northmen；　authoritative；　incisive；　wittily



scornful；　with　a　comedy　in　three　acts　in　his　pocket；　and　in　his



breast　a　heart　blighted　by　a　hopeless　passion　for　his　beautiful



cousin；　married　to　a　wealthy　hide　and　tallow　merchant。　　He　used　to



take　us　to　lunch　at　their　house　without　ceremony。　　I　admired　the



good　lady's　sweet　patience。　　The　husband　was　a　conciliatory　soul；



with　a　great　fund　of　resignation；　which　he　expended　on　〃Roger's



friends。〃　　I　suspect　he　was　secretly　horrified　at　these　invasions。



But　it　was　a　Carlist　salon；　and　as　such　we　were　made　welcome。　　The



possibility　of　raising　Catalonia　in　the　interest　of　the　REY　NETTO；



who　had　just　then　crossed　the　Pyrenees；　was　much　discussed　there。







Don　Carlos；　no　doubt；　must　have　had　many　queer　friends　（it　is　the



common　lot　of　all　Pretenders）；　but　amongst　them　none　more



extravagantly　fantastic　than　the　Tremolino　Syndicate；　which　used　to



meet　in　a　tavern　on　the　quays　of　the　old　port。　　The　antique　city　of



Massilia　had　surely　never；　since　the　days　of　the　earliest



Phoenicians；　known　an　odder　set　of　ship…owners。　　We　met　to　discuss



and　settle　the　plan　of　operations　for　each　voyage　of　the　Tremolino。



In　these　operations　a　banking…house；　too；　was　concerned　…　a　very



respectable　banking…house。　　But　I　am　afraid　I　shall　end　by　saying



too　much。　　Ladies；　too；　were　concerned　（I　am　really　afraid　I　am



saying　too　much）　…　all　sorts　of　ladies；　some　old　enough　to　know



better　than　to　put　their　trust　in　princes；　others　young　and　full　of



illusions。







One　of　these　last　was　extremely　amusing　in　the　imitations；　she　gave



us　in　confidence；　of　various　highly…placed　personages　she　was



perpetually　rushing　off　to　Paris　to　interview　in　the　interests　of



the　cause　…　POR　EL　REY！　　For　she　was　a　Carlist；　and　of　Basque　blood



at　that；　with　something　of　a　lioness　in　the　expression　of　her



courageous　face　（especially　when　she　let　her　hair　down）；　and　with



the　volatile　little　soul　of　a　sparrow　dressed　in　fine　Parisian



feathers；　which　had　the　trick　of　coming　off　disconcertingly　at



unexpected　moments。







But　her　imitations　of　a　Parisian　personage；　very　highly　placed



indeed；　as　she　represented　him　standing　in　the　corner　of　a　room



with　his　face　to　the　wall；　rubbing　the　back　of　his　head　and　moaning



helplessly；　〃Rita；　you　are　the　death　of　me！〃　were　enough　to　make



one　（if　young　and　free　from　cares）　split　one's　sides　laughing。　　She



had　an　uncle　still　living；　a　very　effective　Carlist；　too；　the



priest　of　a　little　mountain　parish　in　Guipuzcoa。　　As　the　sea…going



member　of　the　syndicate　（whose　plans　depended　greatly　on　Dona



Rita's　information）；　I　used　to　be　charged　with　humbly　affectionate



messages　for　the　old　man。　　These　messages　I　was　supposed　to　deliver



to　the　Arragonese　muleteers　（who　were　sure　to　await　at　certain



times　the　Tremolino　in　the　neighbourhood　of　the　Gulf　of　Rosas）；　for



faithful　transportation　inland；　together　with　the　various　unlawful



goods　landed　secretly　from　under　the　Tremolino's　hatches。







Well；　now；　I　have　really　let　out　too　much　（as　I　feared　I　should　in



the　end）　as　to　the　usual　contents　of　my　sea…cradle。　　But　let　it



stand。　　And　if　anybody　remarks　cynically　that　I　must　have　been　a



promising　infant　in　those　days；　let　that　stand；　too。　　I　am



concerned　but　for　the　good　name　of　the　Tremolino；　and　I　affirm　that



a　ship　is　ever　guiltless　of　the　sins；　transgressions；　and　follies



of　her　men。















XLII。















It　was　not　Tremolino's　fault　that　the　syndicate　depended　so　much　on



the　wit　and　wisdom　and　the　information　of　Dona　Rita。　　She　had　taken



a　little　furnished　house　on　the　Prado　for　the　good　of　the　cause　…



POR　EL　REY！　　She　was　always　taking　l