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Sea Wolf, The
CHAPTER XXXV
Jack London
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       _ Next day, the mast-steps clear and everything in readiness, we
       started to get the two topmasts aboard. The maintopmast was over
       thirty feet in length, the foretopmast nearly thirty, and it was of
       these that I intended making the shears. It was puzzling work.
       Fastening one end of a heavy tackle to the windlass, and with the
       other end fast to the butt of the foretopmast, I began to heave.
       Maud held the turn on the windlass and coiled down the slack.
       We were astonished at the ease with which the spar was lifted. It
       was an improved crank windlass, and the purchase it gave was
       enormous. Of course, what it gave us in power we paid for in
       distance; as many times as it doubled my strength, that many times
       was doubled the length of rope I heaved in. The tackle dragged
       heavily across the rail, increasing its drag as the spar arose more
       and more out of the water, and the exertion on the windlass grew
       severe.
       But when the butt of the topmast was level with the rail,
       everything came to a standstill.
       "I might have known it," I said impatiently. "Now we have to do it
       all over again."
       "Why not fasten the tackle part way down the mast?" Maud suggested.
       "It's what I should have done at first," I answered, hugely
       disgusted with myself.
       Slipping off a turn, I lowered the mast back into the water and
       fastened the tackle a third of the way down from the butt. In an
       hour, what of this and of rests between the heaving, I had hoisted
       it to the point where I could hoist no more. Eight feet of the
       butt was above the rail, and I was as far away as ever from getting
       the spar on board. I sat down and pondered the problem. It did
       not take long. I sprang jubilantly to my feet.
       "Now I have it!" I cried. "I ought to make the tackle fast at the
       point of balance. And what we learn of this will serve us with
       everything else we have to hoist aboard."
       Once again I undid all my work by lowering the mast into the water.
       But I miscalculated the point of balance, so that when I heaved the
       top of the mast came up instead of the butt. Maud looked despair,
       but I laughed and said it would do just as well.
       Instructing her how to hold the turn and be ready to slack away at
       command, I laid hold of the mast with my hands and tried to balance
       it inboard across the rail. When I thought I had it I cried to her
       to slack away; but the spar righted, despite my efforts, and
       dropped back toward the water. Again I heaved it up to its old
       position, for I had now another idea. I remembered the watch-
       tackle - a small double and single block affair - and fetched it.
       While I was rigging it between the top of the spar and the opposite
       rail, Wolf Larsen came on the scene. We exchanged nothing more
       than good-mornings, and, though he could not see, he sat on the
       rail out of the way and followed by the sound all that I did.
       Again instructing Maud to slack away at the windlass when I gave
       the word, I proceeded to heave on the watch-tackle. Slowly the
       mast swung in until it balanced at right angles across the rail;
       and then I discovered to my amazement that there was no need for
       Maud to slack away. In fact, the very opposite was necessary.
       Making the watch-tackle fast, I hove on the windlass and brought in
       the mast, inch by inch, till its top tilted down to the deck and
       finally its whole length lay on the deck.
       I looked at my watch. It was twelve o'clock. My back was aching
       sorely, and I felt extremely tired and hungry. And there on the
       deck was a single stick of timber to show for a whole morning's
       work. For the first time I thoroughly realized the extent of the
       task before us. But I was learning, I was learning. The afternoon
       would show far more accomplished. And it did; for we returned at
       one o'clock, rested and strengthened by a hearty dinner.
       In less than an hour I had the maintopmast on deck and was
       constructing the shears. Lashing the two topmasts together, and
       making allowance for their unequal length, at the point of
       intersection I attached the double block of the main throat-
       halyards. This, with the single block and the throat-halyards
       themselves, gave me a hoisting tackle. To prevent the butts of the
       masts from slipping on the deck, I nailed down thick cleats.
       Everything in readiness, I made a line fast to the apex of the
       shears and carried it directly to the windlass. I was growing to
       have faith in that windlass, for it gave me power beyond all
       expectation. As usual, Maud held the turn while I heaved. The
       shears rose in the air.
       Then I discovered I had forgotten guy-ropes. This necessitated my
       climbing the shears, which I did twice, before I finished guying it
       fore and aft and to either side. Twilight had set in by the time
       this was accomplished. Wolf Larsen, who had sat about and listened
       all afternoon and never opened his mouth, had taken himself off to
       the galley and started his supper. I felt quite stiff across the
       small of the back, so much so that I straightened up with an effort
       and with pain. I looked proudly at my work. It was beginning to
       show. I was wild with desire, like a child with a new toy, to
       hoist something with my shears.
       "I wish it weren't so late," I said. "I'd like to see how it
       works."
       "Don't be a glutton, Humphrey," Maud chided me. "Remember, to-
       morrow is coming, and you're so tired now that you can hardly
       stand."
       "And you?" I said, with sudden solicitude. "You must be very
       tired. You have worked hard and nobly. I am proud of you, Maud."
       "Not half so proud as I am of you, nor with half the reason," she
       answered, looking me straight in the eyes for a moment with an
       expression in her own and a dancing, tremulous light which I had
       not seen before and which gave me a pang of quick delight, I know
       not why, for I did not understand it. Then she dropped her eyes,
       to lift them again, laughing.
       "If our friends could see us now," she said. "Look at us. Have
       you ever paused for a moment to consider our appearance?"
       "Yes, I have considered yours, frequently," I answered, puzzling
       over what I had seen in her eyes and puzzled by her sudden change
       of subject.
       "Mercy!" she cried. "And what do I look like, pray?"
       "A scarecrow, I'm afraid," I replied. "Just glance at your
       draggled skirts, for instance. Look at those three-cornered tears.
       And such a waist! It would not require a Sherlock Holmes to deduce
       that you have been cooking over a camp-fire, to say nothing of
       trying out seal-blubber. And to cap it all, that cap! And all
       that is the woman who wrote 'A Kiss Endured.'"
       She made me an elaborate and stately courtesy, and said, "As for
       you, sir - "
       And yet, through the five minutes of banter which followed, there
       was a serious something underneath the fun which I could not but
       relate to the strange and fleeting expression I had caught in her
       eyes. What was it? Could it be that our eyes were speaking beyond
       the will of our speech? My eyes had spoken, I knew, until I had
       found the culprits out and silenced them. This had occurred
       several times. But had she seen the clamour in them and
       understood? And had her eyes so spoken to me? What else could
       that expression have meant - that dancing, tremulous light, and a
       something more which words could not describe. And yet it could
       not be. It was impossible. Besides, I was not skilled in the
       speech of eyes. I was only Humphrey Van Weyden, a bookish fellow
       who loved. And to love, and to wait and win love, that surely was
       glorious enough for me. And thus I thought, even as we chaffed
       each other's appearance, until we arrived ashore and there were
       other things to think about.
       "It's a shame, after working hard all day, that we cannot have an
       uninterrupted night's sleep," I complained, after supper.
       "But there can be no danger now? from a blind man?" she queried.
       "I shall never be able to trust him," I averred, "and far less now
       that he is blind. The liability is that his part helplessness will
       make him more malignant than ever. I know what I shall do to-
       morrow, the first thing - run out a light anchor and kedge the
       schooner off the beach. And each night when we come ashore in the
       boat, Mr. Wolf Larsen will be left a prisoner on board. So this
       will be the last night we have to stand watch, and because of that
       it will go the easier."
       We were awake early and just finishing breakfast as daylight came.
       "Oh, Humphrey!" I heard Maud cry in dismay and suddenly stop.
       I looked at her. She was gazing at the Ghost. I followed her
       gaze, but could see nothing unusual. She looked at me, and I
       looked inquiry back.
       "The shears," she said, and her voice trembled.
       I had forgotten their existence. I looked again, but could not see
       them.
       "If he has - " I muttered savagely.
       She put her hand sympathetically on mine, and said, "You will have
       to begin over again."
       "Oh, believe me, my anger means nothing; I could not hurt a fly," I
       smiled back bitterly. "And the worst of it is, he knows it. You
       are right. If he has destroyed the shears, I shall do nothing
       except begin over again."
       "But I'll stand my watch on board hereafter," I blurted out a
       moment later. "And if he interferes - "
       "But I dare not stay ashore all night alone," Maud was saying when
       I came back to myself. "It would be so much nicer if he would be
       friendly with us and help us. We could all live comfortably
       aboard."
       "We will," I asserted, still savagely, for the destruction of my
       beloved shears had hit me hard. "That is, you and I will live
       aboard, friendly or not with Wolf Larsen."
       "It's childish," I laughed later, "for him to do such things, and
       for me to grow angry over them, for that matter."
       But my heart smote me when we climbed aboard and looked at the
       havoc he had done. The shears were gone altogether. The guys had
       been slashed right and left. The throat-halyards which I had
       rigged were cut across through every part. And he knew I could not
       splice. A thought struck me. I ran to the windlass. It would not
       work. He had broken it. We looked at each other in consternation.
       Then I ran to the side. The masts, booms, and gaffs I had cleared
       were gone. He had found the lines which held them, and cast them
       adrift.
       Tears were in Maud's eyes, and I do believe they were for me. I
       could have wept myself. Where now was our project of remasting the
       Ghost? He had done his work well. I sat down on the hatch-combing
       and rested my chin on my hands in black despair.
       "He deserves to die," I cried out; "and God forgive me, I am not
       man enough to be his executioner."
       But Maud was by my side, passing her hand soothingly through my
       hair as though I were a child, and saying, "There, there; it will
       all come right. We are in the right, and it must come right."
       I remembered Michelet and leaned my head against her; and truly I
       became strong again. The blessed woman was an unfailing fount of
       power to me. What did it matter? Only a set-back, a delay. The
       tide could not have carried the masts far to seaward, and there had
       been no wind. It meant merely more work to find them and tow them
       back. And besides, it was a lesson. I knew what to expect. He
       might have waited and destroyed our work more effectually when we
       had more accomplished.
       "Here he comes now," she whispered.
       I glanced up. He was strolling leisurely along the poop on the
       port side.
       "Take no notice of him," I whispered. "He's coming to see how we
       take it. Don't let him know that we know. We can deny him that
       satisfaction. Take off your shoes - that's right - and carry them
       in your hand."
       And then we played hide-and-seek with the blind man. As he came up
       the port side we slipped past on the starboard; and from the poop
       we watched him turn and start aft on our track.
       He must have known, somehow, that we were on board, for he said
       "Good-morning" very confidently, and waited, for the greeting to be
       returned. Then he strolled aft, and we slipped forward.
       "Oh, I know you're aboard," he called out, and I could see him
       listen intently after he had spoken.
       It reminded me of the great hoot-owl, listening, after its booming
       cry, for the stir of its frightened prey. But we did not fir, and
       we moved only when he moved. And so we dodged about the deck, hand
       in hand, like a couple of children chased by a wicked ogre, till
       Wolf Larsen, evidently in disgust, left the deck for the cabin.
       There was glee in our eyes, and suppressed titters in our mouths,
       as we put on our shoes and clambered over the side into the boat.
       And as I looked into Maud's clear brown eyes I forgot the evil he
       had done, and I knew only that I loved her, and that because of her
       the strength was mine to win our way back to the world. _