Моби Дик

The Musket

           "Hewouldhaveshotmeonce,"hemurmured,"yes,there’stheverymusketthathepointedatme;thatonewiththestuddedlock;letmetouchitliftit.Strange,thatI,whohavehandledsomanydeadlylances,strange,thatIshouldshakesonow.Loaded?Imustsee.Aye,aye;andpowderinthepan;that’snotgood.Bestspillit?wait.I’llcuremyselfofthis.I’llholdthemusketboldlywhileIthink.Icometoreportafairwindtohim.Buthowfair?Fairfordeathanddoomthat’sfairforMobyDick.It’safairwindthat’sonlyfairforthataccursedfish.Theverytubehepointedatme!theveryone;thisoneIholdithere;hewouldhavekilledmewiththeverythingIhandlenow.Ayeandhewouldfainkillallhiscrew.Doeshenotsayhewillnotstrikehissparstoanygale?Hashenotdashedhisheavenlyquadrant?andinthesesameperilousseas,gropeshenothiswaybymeredeadreckoningoftheerror-aboundinglog?andinthisveryTyphoon,didhenotswearthathewouldhavenolightning-rods?Butshallthiscrazedoldmanbetamelysufferedtodragawholeship’scompanydowntodoomwithhim?Yes,itwouldmakehimthewilfulmurdererofthirtymenandmore,ifthisshipcometoanydeadlyharm;andcometodeadlyharm,mysoulswearsthisshipwill,ifAhabhavehisway.If,then,hewerethisinstantputaside,thatcrimewouldnotbehis.Ha!ishemutteringinhissleep?Yes,justthereinthere,he’ssleeping.Sleeping?aye,butstillalive,andsoonawakeagain.

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