knowthathewasnotawareofwhathewassaying,forhisthoughtswereoutontheseawithLongfellow。
“Charlie。”Iasked,“whentherowersonthegalleysmutiniedhowdidtheykilltheiroverseers?”
“Toreupthebenchesandbrained’emThathappenedwhenaheavyseawasrunningAnoverseeronthelowerdeckslippedfromthecentreplankandfellamongtherowersTheychokedhimtodeathagainstthesideoftheshipwiththeirchainedhandsquitequietly,anditwastoodarkfortheotheroverseertoseewhathadhappenedWhenheasked,hewaspulleddowntooandchoked,andthelowerdeckfoughttheirwayupdeckbydeck,withthepiecesofthebrokenbenchesbangingbehind’emHowtheyhowled!”
“Andwhathappenedafterthat?”
“Idon’tknowTheherowentaway-redhairandredbeardandall。
Thatwasafterhehadcapturedourgalley,Ithink“
Thesoundofmyvoiceirritatedhim,andhemotionedslightlywithhislefthandasamandoeswheninterruptionjars。
“Younevertoldmehewasredheadedbefore,orthathecapturedyourgalley。”Isaid,afteradiscreetinterval。
Charliedidnotraisehiseyes。
“Hewasasredasaredbear。”saidhe,abstractedly“Hecamefromthenorth;theysaidsointhegalleywhenhelookedforrowers-riotslaves,butfreemenAfterward-yearsandyearsafterward-newscamefromanothership,orelsehecameback“-HislipsmovedinsilenceHewasrapturouslyretastingsomepoembeforehim。
“Wherehadhebeen,then?”IwasalmostwhisperingthatthesentencemightcomegentletowhicheversectionofCharlie’sbrainwasworkingonmybehalf。
“TotheBeaches-theLongandWonderfulBeaches!”wasthereply,afteraminuteofsilence。
“ToFurdurstrandi?”Iasked,tinglingfromheadtofoot。
“Yes,toFurdurstrandi。”hepronouncedthewordinanewfashion“AndItoosaw“-Thevoicefailed。
“Doyouknowwhatyouhavesaid?”Ishouted,incautiously。
Heliftedhiseyes,fullyrousednow“No!”hesnapped“Iwishyou’dletachapgoonreadingHarktothis:
“’ButOthere,theoldseacaptain,HeneitherpausednorstirredTillthekinglistened,andthen’OncemoretookuphispenAndwrotedowneveryword。
“’AndtotheKingoftheSaxonsInwitnessofthetruth,Raisinghisnoblehead,Hestretchedhisbrownhandandsaid,“Beholdthiswalrustooth。”
ByJove,whatchapsthosemusthavebeen,togosailingallovertheshopneverknowingwherethey’dfetchtheland!Hah!”
“Charlie。”Ipleaded,“ifyou’llonlyhesensibleforaminuteortwoI’llmakeourheroinourtaleeveryinchasgoodasOthere。”
“Umph!LongfellowwrotethatpoemIdon’tcareaboutwritingthingsanymoreIwanttoread。”Hewasthoroughlyoutoftunenow,andragingovermyownill-luck,Ilefthim。
Conceiveyourselfatthedooroftheworld’streasure-houseguardedbyachild-anidleirresponsiblechildplayingknuckle-
bones-onwhosefavordependsthegiftofthekey,andyouwillimagineone-halfmytormentTillthateveningCharliehadspokennothingthatmightnotliewithintheexperiencesofaGreekgalley-slaveButnow,ortherewasnovirtueinbooks,hehadtalkedofsomedesperateadventureoftheVikings,ofThorfinKarlsefne’ssailingtoWineland,whichisAmerica,intheninthortenthcenturyThebattleintheharborhehadseen;andhisowndeathhehaddescribedButthiswasamuchmorestartlingplungeintothepastWasitpossiblethathehadskippedhalfadozenlivesandwasthendimlyrememberingsomeepisodeofathousandyearslater?Itwasamaddeningjumble,andtheworstofitwasthatCharlieMearsinhisnormalconditionwasthelastpersonintheworldtoclearitupIcouldonlywaitandwatch,butIwenttobedthatnightfullofthewildestimaginingsTherewasnothingthatwasnotpossibleifCharlie’sdetestablememoryonlyheldgood。
ImightrewritetheSagaofThorfinKarlsefneasithadneverbeenwrittenbefore,mighttellthestoryofthefirstdiscoveryofAmerica,myselfthediscovererButIwasentirelyatCharlie’smercy,andsolongastherewasathree-and-six-pennyBohnvolumewithinhisreachCharliewouldnottellIdarednotcursehimopenly;Ihardlydaredjoghismemory,forIwasdealingwiththeexperiencesofathousandyearsago,toldthroughthemouthofaboyoftoday;andaboyofto-dayisaffectedbyeverychangeoftoneandgustofopinion,sothatheliesevenwhenhedesirestospeakthetruth。
IsawnomoreofhimfornearlyaweekWhennextImethimitwasinGracechurchStreetwithabillbookchainedtohiswaist。
BusinesstookhimoverLondonBridgeandIaccompaniedhim。
Hewasveryfulloftheimportanceofthatbookandmagnifiedit。
AswepassedovertheThameswepausedtolookatasteamer’
unloadinggreatslabsofwhiteandbro““nmarbleAbargedriftedunderthesteamer’ssternandalonelycowinthatbargebellowed。
Charlie’sfacechangedfromthefaceofthebank-clerktothatofanunknownand-thoughhewouldnothavebelievedthis-amuchshrewdermanHeflungouthisarmacrosstheparapetofthebridge,andlaughingveryloudly,said:
“WhentheyheardourbullsbellowtheSkroelingsranaway!”
Iwaitedonlyforaninstant,butthebargeandthecowhaddisappearedunderthebowsofthesteamerbeforeIanswered。
“Charlie,whatdoyousupposeareSkroelings?”
“Neverheardof’embeforeTheysoundlikeanewkindofseagullWhatachapyouareforaskingquestions!”hereplied“I
havetogotothecashieroftheOmnibusCompanyyonderWillyouwaitformeandwecanlunchsomewheretogether?I’veanotionforapoem。”
“No,thanksI’moffYou’resureyouknownothingaboutSkroelings?”
“Notunlesshe’sbeenenteredfortheLiverpoolHandicap。”Henoddedanddisappearedinthecrowd。
NowitiswrittenintheSagaofErictheRedorthatofThorfinKarlsefne,thatninehundredyearsagowhenKarlsefne’sgalleyscametoLeif’sbooths,whichLeifhaderectedintheunknownlandcalledMarkland,whichmayormaynothavebeenRhodeIsland,theSkroelings-andtheLordHeknowswhothesemayormaynothavebeen-cametotradewiththeVikings,andranawaybecausetheywerefrightenedatthebellowingofthecattlewhichThorfinhadbroughtwithhimintheshipsButwhatintheworldcouldaGreekslaveknowofthataffair?Iwanderedupanddownamongthestreetstryingtounravelthemystery,andthemoreI
consideredit,themorebafflingitgrewOnethingonlyseemedcertainandthatcertaintytookawaymybreathforthemomentIfIcametofullknowledgeofanythingatall,itwouldnotbeonelifeofthesoulinCharlieMears’sbody,buthalfadozen-halfadozenseveralandseparateexistencesspentonbluewaterinthemorningoftheworld!
ThenIwalkedroundthesituation。
ObviouslyifIusedmyknowledgeIshouldstandaloneandunapproachableuntilallmenwereaswiseasmyselfThatwouldbesomething,butmanlikeIwasungratefulItseemedbitterlyunfairthatCharlie’smemoryshouldfailmewhenIneededitmost。
GreatPowersabove-Ilookedupatthemthroughthefogsmoke-
didtheLordsofLifeandDeathknowwhatthismeanttome?
Nothinglessthaneternalfameofthebestkind;thatcomesfromOne,andissharedbyonealoneIwouldbecontent-rememberingClive,Istoodastoundedatmyownmoderation,-withthemererighttotellonestory,toworkoutonelittlecontributiontothelightliteratureofthedayIfCharliewerepermittedfullrecollectionforonehour-forsixtyshortminutes-ofexistencesthathadextendedoverathousandyears-IwouldforegoallprofitandhonorfromallthatIshouldmakeofhisspeechIwouldtakenoshareinthecommotionthatwouldfollowthroughouttheparticularcorneroftheearththatcallsitself“theworld。”ThethingshouldbeputforthanonymouslyNay,IwouldmakeothermenbelievethattheyhadwrittenitTheywouldhirebull-hidedself-advertisingEnglishmentobellowitabroadPreacherswouldfoundafreshconductoflifeuponit,swearingthatitwasnewandthattheyhadliftedthefearofdeathfromallmankind。
EveryOrientalistinEuropewouldpatronizeitdiscursivelywithSanskritandPalitextsTerriblewomenwouldinventuncleanvariantsofthemen’sbelieffortheelevationoftheirsisters。
ChurchesandreligionswouldwaroveritBetweenthehailingandre-startingofanomnibusIforesawthescufflesthatwouldariseamonghalfadozendenominationsallprofessing“thedoctrineoftheTrueMetempsychosisasappliedtotheworldandtheNewEra“;andsaw,too,therespectableEnglishnewspapersshying,likefrightenedkine,overthebeautifulsimplicityofthetaleThemindleapedforwardahundred-twohundred-athousandyearsIsawwithsorrowthatmenwouldmutilateandgarblethestory;thatrivalcreedswouldturnitupsidedowntill,atlast,thewesternworldwhichclingstothedreadofdeathmorecloselythanthehopeoflife,wouldsetitasideasaninterestingsuperstitionandstampedeaftersomefaithsolongforgottenthatitseemedaltogethernewUponthisIchangedthetermsofthebargainthatI
wouldmakewiththeLordsofLifeandDeathOnlyletmeknow,letmewrite,thestorywithsureknowledgethatIwrotethetruth,andIwouldburnthemanuscriptasasolemnsacrificeFiveminutesafterthelastlinewaswrittenIwoulddestroyitallButI
mustbeallowedtowriteitwithabsolutecertainty。
TherewasnoanswerTheflamingcolorsofanAquariumpostercaughtmyeyeandIwonderedwhetheritwouldbewiseorprudenttolureCharlieintothehandsoftheprofessionalmesmerist,andwhether,ifhewereunderhispower,hewouldspeakofhispastlivesIfhedid,andifpeoplebelievedhimbutCharliewouldbefrightenedandflustered,ormadeconceitedbytheinterviews。
Ineithercasehewouldbegintolie,throughfearorvanityHewassafestinmyownhands。
“Theyareveryfunnyfools,yourEnglish。”saidavoiceatmyelbow,andturningroundIrecognizedacasualacquaintance,ayoungBengalilawstudent,calledGrishChunder,whosefatherhadsenthimtoEnglandtobecomecivilizedTheoldmanwasaretirednativeofficial,andonanincomeoffivepoundsamonthcontrivedtoallowhissontwohundredpoundsayear,andtherunofhisteethinacitywherehecouldpretendtobethecadetofaroyalhouse,andtellstoriesofthebrutalIndianbureaucratswhogroundthefacesofthepoor。
GrishChunderwasayoung,fat,full-bodiedBengalidressedwithscrupulouscareinfrockcoat,tallhat,lighttrousersandtangloves。
ButIhadknownhiminthedayswhenthebrutalIndianGovernmentpaidforhisuniversityeducation,andhecontributedcheapseditiontoSachiDurpan,andintriguedwiththewivesofhisschoolmates。
“Thatisveryfunnyandveryfoolish。”hesaid,noddingattheposter“IamgoingdowntotheNorthbrookClubWillyoucometoo?”
Iwalkedwithhimforsometime“You’arenotwell。”hesaid。
“Whatisthereinyourmind?Youdonottalk。”
“GrishChunder,you’vebeentoowelleducatedtobelieveinaGod,haven’tvou?”
“Oah,yes,here!ButwhenIgohomeImustconciliatepopularsuperstition,andmakeceremoniesofpurification,andmywomenwillanointidols。”
“Andbanguptulsiandfeastthepurohit,andtakeyoubackintocasteagainandmakeagoodkhuttrjofyouagain,youadvancedsocialFree-thinkerAndyou’lleatdesifood,andlikeitall,fromthesmellinthecourtyardtothemustardoiloveryou。”
“Ishallverymuchlikeit。”saidGrishChunder,unguardedly。
“OnceaHindu-alwaysaHinduButIliketoknowwhattheEnglishthinktheyknow。”
“I’lltellyousomethingthatoneEnglishmanknowsIt’sanoldtaletoyou。”
IbegantotellthestoryofCharlieinEnglish,butGrishChunderputaquestioninthevernacular,andthehistorywentforwardnaturallyinthetonguebestsuitedforitstellingAfterallitcouldneverhavebeentoldinEnglishGrishChunderheardme,noddingfromtimetotime,andthencameuptomyroomswhereIfinishedthetale。
“Beshak。”hesaid,philosophically“Lekindarwazabandhai。
Withoutdoubt,butthedoorisshut。IhaveheardofthisrememberingofpreviousexistencesamongmypeopleItisofcourseanoldtalewithus,but,tohappentoanEnglishman-acow-fedMalechk-anoutcastByJove,thatismostpeculiar!”