And behind him upon the ground Trench heard every now and then in a lull
of the noise the babble of English.
"He will die before morning," he cried to Ibrahim, "he is in a fever!"
"Sit beside him," said the Hadendoa. "I can keep them back."
Trench stooped and squatted in the corner, Ibrahim set his legs well
apart and guarded Trench and his new friend.
Bending his head, Trench could now hear the words. They were the words
of a man in delirium, spoken in a voice of great pleading. He was
telling some tale of the sea, it seemed.
"I saw the riding lights of the yachts--and the reflections shortening
and lengthening as the water rippled--there was a band, too, as we
passed the pier-head. What was it playing? Not the overture--and I don't
think that I remember any other tune...." And he laughed with a crazy
chuckle. "I was always pretty bad at appreciating music, wasn't I?
except when you played," and again he came back to the sea. "There was
the line of hills upon the right as the boat steamed out of the bay--you
remember there were woods on the hillside--perhaps you have forgotten.
Then came Bray, a little fairyland of lights close down by the water at
the point of the ridge .
Pages:
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390