Конец рабства
VI
Hewalkedon,asiftherestillhadbeenashipintheroadsteadtowhichhecouldgethimselfpulledoffintheevening.Faraway,beyondthehouses,ontheslopeofanindigopromontoryclosingtheviewofthequays,theslimcolumnofafactory-chimneysmokedquietlystraightupintotheclearair.AChinaman,curleddowninthesternofoneofthehalf-dozensampansfloatingofftheendofthejetty,caughtsightofabeckoninghand.Hejumpedup,rolledhispigtailroundhisheadswiftly,tuckedintworapidmovementshiswidedarktrousershighuphisyellowthighs,andbyasingle,noiseless,finlikestiroftheoars,sheeredthesampanalongsidethestepswiththeeaseandprecisionofaswimmingfish.
“Sofala,”articulatedCaptainWhalleyfromabove;andtheChinaman,anewemigrantprobably,staredupwardswithatenseattentionasifwaitingtoseethequeerwordfallvisiblyfromthewhiteman’slips.“Sofala,”CaptainWhalleyrepeated;andsuddenlyhisheartfailedhim.Hepaused.Theshores,theislets,thehighground,thelowpoints,weredark:thehorizonhadgrownsomber;andacrosstheeasternsweepoftheshorethewhiteobelisk,markingthelanding-placeofthetelegraph-cable,stoodlikeapaleghostonthebeachbeforethedarkspreadofunevenroofs,intermingledwithpalms,ofthenativetown.CaptainWhalleybeganagain.
“Sofala.SaveeSo-fa-la,John?”
ThistimetheChinamanmadeoutthatbizarresound,andgruntedhisassentuncouthly,lowdowninhisbarethroat.
