He had certainly employed north-country words and elisions;
but the accent and the pronunciation seemed unfamiliar and
incongruous in my ear.
To descend on an empty stomach into Steerage No. 1, was an adventure
that required some nerve. The stench was atrocious; each respiration
tasted in the throat like some horrible kind of cheese; and the
squalid aspect of the place was aggravated by so many people worming
themselves into their clothes in twilight of the bunks. You may
guess if I was pleased, not only for him, but for myself also, when I
heard that the sick man was better and had gone on deck.
The morning was raw and foggy, though the sun suffused the fog with
pink and amber; the fog-horn still blew, stertorous and intermittent;
and to add to the discomfort, the seamen were just beginning to wash
down the decks. But for a sick man this was heaven compared to the
steerage. I found him standing on the hot-water pipe, just forward
of the saloon deck house. He was smaller than I had fancied, and
plain-looking; but his face was distinguished by strange and
fascinating eyes, limpid grey from a distance, but, when looked into,
full of changing colours and grains of gold.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83