“Ess, a young maid’s broken-’eartedWhen a ship is outward bound.”
“Ess, a young maid’s broken-’eartedWhen a ship is outward bound.”
His face is pinched and drawn, his beady eyes move unceasingly, and I think of one who said, “His nose was as sharp as a pen, and ’e babbled of green fields.”
As I go below to my berth again, striving with the door as with a strong man, there crackles and hisses a forked glare of lightning, an enormous whip driving the great white horses of the sea to madness. Onward they spring, phalanx after phalanx, while above the riot of their disintegration glints the faint yellow light of Fastnet. Far off to nor’ard, guarding Cape Clear, hidden at times by the mountainous water, veiled almost to obscurity by the flying spume, it flashes, a coastwise light. And on the eastern horizon—O wondrous sight to me!—the black pall has lifted a little from the tumbling waters, leaving aband of yellow moonlight with one green-flashing star.
Reaching my berth once more, the terror and delight of that last glimpse is upon me. In that strange yellow rift at midnight, backing the world of dark chaos, that star of palest green, I feel a thrill of the superhuman sense which renders Turner inexplicable to Balham, and stabs the soul with demoniac joy in the Steersman’s Song.
One Bell, and the pen drops from my fingers. And so, until the day break and the shadows flee away, I shall be at my post. And in the morning there will be more to tell.
[A]Preface to the first edition.
[A]Preface to the first edition.
1. Minor changes have been made to correct typesetter errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author’s words and intent.
2. The original of this e-book did not have a Table of Contents; one has been added for the reader’s convenience.