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the history of his latest voyage； conducting his simple hearer from port to
port of Spain； landing him at Lisbon； Oporto； and Bordeaux； introducing
him to the pleasant harbours of Cornwall and Devon； and so up the
Channel to that final quayside； where； landing after winds long contrary；
storm…driven and weather…beaten； he had caught the first magical hints and
heraldings of another Spring； and； fired by these； had sped on a long tramp
inland； hungry for the experiment of life on some quiet farmstead； very far
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from the weary beating of any sea。
Spell…bound and quivering with excitement； the Water Rat followed
the Adventurer league by league； over stormy bays； through crowded
roadsteads； across harbour bars on a racing tide； up winding rivers that hid
their busy little towns round a sudden turn； and left him with a regretful
sigh planted at his dull inland farm； about which he desired to hear
nothing。
By this time their meal was over； and the Seafarer； refreshed and
strengthened； his voice more vibrant； his eye lit with a brightness that
seemed caught from some far…away sea…beacon； filled his glass with the
red and glowing vintage of the South； and； leaning towards the Water Rat；
compelled his gaze and held him； body and soul； while he talked。 Those
eyes were of the changing foam…streaked grey…green of leaping Northern
seas； in the glass shone a hot ruby that seemed the very heart of the South；
beating for him who had courage to respond to its pulsation。 The twin
lights； the shifting grey and the steadfast red； mastered the Water Rat and
held him bound； fascinated； powerless。 The quiet world outside their rays
receded far away and ceased to be。 And the talk； the wonderful talk flowed
onor was it speech entirely； or did it pass at times into songchanty of
the sailors weighing the dripping anchor； sonorous hum of the shrouds in a
tearing North…Easter； ballad of the fisherman hauling his nets at sundown
against an apricot sky； chords of guitar and mandoline from gondola or
caique？ Did it change into the cry of the wind； plaintive at first； angrily
shrill as it freshened； rising to a tearing whistle； sinking to a musical
trickle of air from the leech of the bellying sail？ All these sounds the spell…
bound listener seemed to hear； and with them the hungry complaint of the
gulls and the sea…mews； the soft thunder of the breaking wave； the cry of
the protesting shingle。 Back into speech again it passed； and with beating
heart he was following the adventures of a dozen seaports； the fights； the
escapes； the rallies； the comradeships； the gallant undertakings； or he
searched islands for treasure； fished in still lagoons and dozed day…long on
warm white sand。 Of deep…sea fishings he heard tell； and mighty silver
gatherings of the mile… long net； of sudden perils； noise of breakers on a
moonless night； or the tall bows of the great liner taking shape overhead
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through the fog； of the merry home…coming； the headland rounded； the
harbour lights opened out； the groups seen dimly on the quay； the cheery
hail； the splash of the hawser； the trudge up the steep little street towards
the comforting glow of red…curtained windows。
Lastly； in his waking dream it seemed to him that the Adventurer had
risen to his feet； but was still speaking； still holding him fast with his sea…
grey eyes。
‘And now；' he was softly saying； ‘I take to the road again； holding on
southwestwards for many a long and dusty day； till at last I reach the little
grey sea town I know so well； that clings along one steep side of the
harbour。 There through dark doorways you look down flights of stone
steps； overhung by great pink tufts of valerian and ending in a patch of
sparkling blue water。 The little boats that lie tethered to the rings and
stanchions of the old sea…wall are gaily painted as those I clambered in and
out of in my own childhood； the salmon leap on the flood tide； schools of
mackerel flash and play past quay…sides and foreshores； and by the
windows the great vessels glide； night and day； up to their moorings or
forth to the open sea。 There； sooner or later； the ships of all seafaring
nations arrive； and there； at its destined hour； the ship of my choice will let
go its anchor。 I shall take my time； I shall tarry and bide； till at last the
right one lies waiting for me； warped out into midstream； loaded low； her
bowsprit pointing down harbour。 I shall slip on board； by boat or along
hawser； and then one morning I shall wake to the song and tramp of the
sailors； the clink of the capstan； and the rattle of the anchor…chain coming
merrily in。 We shall break out the jib and the foresail； the white houses on
the harbour side will glide slowly past us as she gathers steering…way； and
the voyage will have begun！ As she forges towards the headland she will
clothe herself with canvas； and then； once outside； the sounding slap of
great green seas as she heels to the wind； pointing South！
‘And you； you will come too； young brother； for the days pass； and
never return； and the South still waits for you。 Take the Adventure； heed
the call； now ere the irrevocable moment passes！' 'Tis but a banging of the
door behind you； a blithesome step forward； and you are out of the old life
and into the new！ Then some day； some day long hence； jog home here if
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you will； when the cup has been drained and the play has been played； and
sit down by your quiet river with a store of goodly memories for company。
You can easily overtake me on the road； for you are young； and I am
ageing and go softly。 I will linger； and look back； and at last I will surely
see you coming； eager and light… hearted； with all the South in your face！'
The voice died away and ceased as an insect's tiny trumpet dwindles
swiftly into silence； and the Water Rat； paralysed and staring； saw at last
but a distant speck on the white surface of the road。
Mechanically he rose and proceeded to repack the