Violet Jacob > Flemington

ADRIFT
147
The order was given and the wine was brought.
Archie noticed that the man who set the bottle
and the two glasses on the table threw a casual
look at Hall’s hand, which shook as he helped his
guest. He had eaten little since morning, and
drunk less. Now that he had attained his object,
and found himself in temporary shelter and
temporary peace, he realized how glad he was of
the wine. When, after a single glassful, he rose
to follow the sailor who came to show him his
bunk, he turned to bid good-night to Hall.
The light hanging above the captain’s head re¬
vealed every line, every contour of his face with
merciless candour; and Flemington could see
that no lover, counting the minutes till he should
be left with his mistress, had ever longed more
eagerly to be alone with her than this man longed
to be alone with the bottle before him.
Archie threw himself thankfully into his bunk.
There was evidently room for him on the ship,
for there was no trace of another occupant in the
little cabin; nevertheless, it looked untidy and
unswept. The port close to which he lay was on
the starboard side of the vessel, and looked across
the strait towards the town. The lamps were
nearly all extinguished on the quays, and only
here and there a yellow spot of light made a faint
ladder in the water. The pleasant trickling sound
outside was soothing, with its impersonal, mono¬
tonous whisper. He wondered how long Hall
would sit bemusing himself at the table, and what
the discipline of a ship commanded by this