Пользователь - WORLD'S END

There were several little dramas going on among these guests, which Lanny Budd was too young to understand or even suspect.

Of the two young Englishmen who had been brought along, one was named Fashynge; he had no special occupation, but was welcomed because he was a good dancer and cardplayer, and had the right sort of conversation, difficult for anybody to understand unless he knew a certain small set of people, their personal peculiarities, what had happened to them, and what they thought was funny. Society ladies like to have such men about, and Cedric Fashynge devoted himself to Beauty Budd, uninvited and without asking any return. Marcel said he was an ass, but probably a harmless one. Lady Eversham-Watson was attracted by him, and Beauty would playfully tell "Ceddy" to dance with Margy and do this and that with her; but "Ceddy" didn't obey - and anyhow, his lordship was always about, seeing to it that his wife received every attention that she required.

The other Englishman was older and more serious; Captain Andrew Fontenoy Fitz-Laing was his name, abridged to "Fitzy." He had got a bullet through his hip in some obscure skirmish with the Afghans, and would wince now and then when he got up out of his chair suddenly, but would say casually that it was "nothing." He was tall and erect, and had a fine golden mustache and fair pink skin about which the ladies teased him. He had the devil in his blue eyes, so Beauty declared; and anybody who watched them closely would see them turn in the direction of Edna Hackabury. If Edna's black eyes happened to encounter them, there would take place a slow deepening of color in the alabaster cheeks and throat of the soap manufacturer's wife. Of the eleven passengers on the yacht, there were only two who had not observed this phenomenon - Lanny and the soap manufacturer.

It had been going on for quite a while, for Fitzy had been on the cruise to Norway. Having a much worse hip at that time, he had not been able to go ashore and visit the saeters, so Edna had often stayed to keep him company. He had been among the guests who had accompanied the Hackaburys on their return to the States the previous fall, and had been with them at Key West and the Bahamas, and also crossing the Atlantic. This had been fortunate,

for otherwise Edna would have had no company at all while they were at sea.

VII

They went to Athens - partly because everybody would ask if they had been there, and partly in order to refuel. The port is called the Piraeus, and there isn't much of a harbor - the tugs just turned the Bluebird around and set her against a stone pier, and there were the venders of laces and sponges, and swarms of hackmen clamoring in various tongues to drive them to town. The weather was pleasant, and they let themselves be driven about the avenues of a small city, and saw that there was a museum, and on a height some distance away ruins which the hackman said were the Parthenon. Did anybody want to look at any more ruins?

Marcel and Lanny did; and Mr. Hackabury went along for company. They rode up on the backs of donkeys, in the company of thin American schoolteachers and stout German tourists. Ezra sat down to rest while the younger pair wandered among these noble remnants, which had been blasted by a powder explosion during a siege, and from which Lord Elgin had taken all the beautiful statuary. Marcel told what gods had been worshiped here and what arts practiced, more than twenty centuries before. Now it was a shrine to lovers of beauty; not long ago Isadora Duncan had danced here, and when the police had wished to stop her she had told them it was her way of praying.

They had planned to stay all day, and study diligently; but the old gentleman called to them and said he guessed he'd have to go down; he didn't feel quite right; maybe it was a touch of the sun, or something he had eaten. He told them to stay, but they insisted on going with him - they could just as well come back next day.

So they drove to the boat, and went on board. Ezra went to his cabin, and Marcel and Lanny stayed on the afterdeck, telling Beauty and some of the others about the sights they had seen. They were interrupted by shouts from inside the yacht, and loud, crashing noises. Lanny, the most agile among them, was the first to dash into the saloon and down the corridor from which the sounds came.

He saw an extraordinary spectacle - the owner of the yacht, having apparently recovered his health, had taken from the wall a red-painted fire ax, and with it was vigorously chopping at the lock of one of the cabin doors. "Open up!" he would shout; then, without waiting for anyone to obey, he would give another mighty whack. A steward in white duck jacket, and a deckhand, also in white, stood staring with wide eyes; the first mate came running, and then Lanny, Marcel, Lanny's mother, Lord Eversham-Watson, the baroness - all crowding into the corridor and standing speechless.

Two or three more whacks and the door gave way, and the owner of the Bluebird stood gazing inside. The others couldn't see - they kept away from the ax, whose wielder was panting heavily. For a few moments this hard breathing was the only sound; then he commanded: "Come on out!" No answer from within the cabin, and he shouted more fiercely: "Come out; or do you want me to drag you?"

From inside came the voice of Captain Fitz-Laing: "Put the ax down."

"Oh, I'm not going to hit you," replied Ezra. "I just wanted to see you. Come on out, you dirty skunk."

Fitzy came limping through the doorway, his handsome face very pale, his clothing in disarray. He passed the large and powerful soapman, watching him guardedly. The others made way for him, and he went down the corridor.

"You saw him, now take a look at her," said the man with the ax. He was speaking, not to his guests, but to the members of the crew; several others had come, and the owner of the yacht ordered them to the doorway, insisting: "You have seen her? I shall need you for witnesses." Thus directed, they peered into the cabin, from which came now the sounds of Edna Hackabury's weeping.

"You know her?" demanded Ezra, relentlessly. He set his ax against the wall, and took from his pocket a pencil and some paper. "I want your names and addresses, some place where I can reach you," he said. From one man after another he got this information and wrote it down carefully, while the sobbing inside the cabin went on, and the guests stood, helpless with embarrassment, not saying a word.

"Now then," said Ezra, when he had what he needed, "I'm through." He turned to the group of guests. "I'll leave you this floating whorehouse," he declared. "Take it any place you please. I'm going back to God's country, where people still have a sense of decency."

There came a scream from the cabin, and Edna rushed out, half undressed as she was, and flung herself at her husband. "No, Ezra, no!" She started to plead that she hadn't meant it - she had been too much tempted - she would never do it again - he must forgive her. But he said: "I don't know you," and pushed her away and went on down the corridor.

The first person he had to pass was Lanny, and he stopped and put his hand on the lad's head. "I'm sorry you had to see this, son," he remarked, kindly. "You're in a tough spot. I hope you get out of it some day." He walked by the others without looking at them, and went into the cabin he had been sharing with Lanny and started throwing his belongings into a couple of suitcases. His wife followed him, weeping hysterically. She groveled at his feet, she begged and besought him; but each time he shoved her out of the way. When he had what he needed in the suitcases, he took one in each hand and strode out of the cabin and up the companionway, crossed the gangway to the shore, stepped into one of the waiting hacks - and that was the last they saw of him.