the midshipman makes a discovery

it was long before florence awoke. the day was in its prime, the day was in its wane, and still, uneasy in mind and body, she slept on; unconscious of her strange bed, of the noise and turmoil in the street, and of the light that shone outside the shaded window. perfect unconsciousness of what had happened in the home that existed no more, even the deep slumber of exhaustion could not produce. some undefined and mournful recollection of it, dozing uneasily but never sleeping, pervaded all her rest. a dull sorrow, like a half-lulled sense of pain, was always present to her; and her pale cheek was oftener wet with tears than the honest captain, softly putting in his head from time to time at the half-closed door, could have desired to see it.

the sun was getting low in the west, and, glancing out of a red mist, pierced with its rays opposite loopholes and pieces of fretwork in the spires of city churches, as if with golden arrows that struck through and through them - and far away athwart the river and its flat banks, it was gleaming like a path of fire - and out at sea it was irradiating sails of ships - and, looked towards, from quiet churchyards, upon hill-tops in the country, it was steeping distant prospects in a flush and glow that seemed to mingle earth and sky together in one glorious suffusion - when florence, opening her heavy eyes, lay at first, looking without interest or recognition at the unfamiliar walls around her, and listening in the same regardless manner to the noises in the street. but presently she started up upon her couch, gazed round with a surprised and vacant look, and recollected all.

'my pretty,' said the captain, knocking at the door, 'what cheer?'

'dear friend,' cried florence, hurrying to him, 'is it you?'

the captain felt so much pride in the name, and was so pleased by the gleam of pleasure in her face, when she saw him, that he kissed his hook, by way of reply, in speechless gratification.

'what cheer, bright di'mond?' said the captain.

'i have surely slept very long,' returned florence. 'when did i come here? yesterday?'

'this here blessed day, my lady lass,' replied the captain.

'has there been no night? is it still day?' asked florence.

'getting on for evening now, my pretty,' said the captain, drawing back the curtain of the window. 'see!'

florence, with her hand upon the captain's arm, so sorrowful and timid, and the captain with his rough face and burly figure, so quietly protective of her, stood in the rosy light of the bright evening sky, without saying a word. however strange the form of speech into which he might have fashioned the feeling, if he had had to give it utterance, the captain felt, as sensibly as the most eloquent of men could have done, that there was something in the tranquil time and in its softened beauty that would make the wounded heart of florence overflow; and that it was better that such tears should have their way. so not a word spake captain cuttle. but when he felt his arm clasped closer, and when he felt the lonely head come nearer to it, and lay itself against his homely coarse blue sleeve, he pressed it gently with his rugged hand, and understood it, and was understood.

'better now, my pretty!' said the captain. 'cheerily, cheerily, i'll go down below, and get some dinner ready. will you come down of your own self, arterwards, pretty, or shall ed'ard cuttle come and fetch you?'

as florence assured him that she was quite able to walk downstairs, the captain, though evidently doubtful of his own hospitality in permitting it, left her to do so, and immediately set about roasting a fowl at the fire in the little parlour. to achieve his cookery with the greater skill, he pulled off his coat, tucked up his wristbands, and put on his glazed hat, without which assistant he never applied himself to any nice or difficult undertaking.

after cooling her aching head and burning face in the fresh water which the captain's care had provided for her while she slept, florence went to the little mirror to bind up her disordered hair. then she knew - in a moment, for she shunned it instantly, that on her breast there was the darkening mark of an angry hand.

her tears burst forth afresh at the sight; she was ashamed and afraid of it; but it moved her to no anger against him. homeless and fatherless, she forgave him everything; hardly thought that she had need to forgive him, or that she did; but she fled from the idea of him as she had fled from the reality, and he was utterly gone and lost. there was no such being in the world.

what to do, or where to live, florence - poor, inexperienced girl! - could not yet consider. she had indistinct dreams of finding, a long way off, some little sisters to instruct, who would be gentle with her, and to whom, under some feigned name, she might attach herself, and who would grow up in their happy home, and marry, and be good to their old governess, and perhaps entrust her, in time, with the education of their own daughters. and she thought how strange and sorrowful it would be, thus to become a grey-haired woman, carrying her secret to the grave, when florence dombey was forgotten. but it was all dim and clouded to her now. she only knew that she had no father upon earth, and she said so, many times, with her suppliant head hidden from all, but her father who was in heaven.

her little stock of money amounted to but a few guineas. with a part of this, it would be necessary to buy some clothes, for she had none but those she wore. she was too desolate to think how soon her money would be gone - too much a child in worldly matters to be greatly troubled on that score yet, even if her other trouble had been less. she tried to calm her thoughts and stay her tears; to quiet the hurry in her throbbing head, and bring herself to believe that what had happened were but the events of a few hours ago, instead of weeks or months, as they appeared; and went down to her kind protector.

the captain had spread the cloth with great care, and was making some egg-sauce in a little saucepan: basting the fowl from time to time during the process with a strong interest, as it turned and browned on a string before the fire. having propped florence up with cushions on the sofa, which was already wheeled into a warm corner for her greater comfort, the captain pursued his cooking with extraordinary skill, making hot gravy in a second little saucepan, boiling a handful of potatoes in a third, never forgetting the egg-sauce in the first, and making an impartial round of basting and stirring with the most useful of spoons every minute. besides these cares, the captain had to keep his eye on a diminutive frying-pan, in which some sausages were hissing and bubbling in a most musical manner; and there was never such a radiant cook as the captain looked, in the height and heat of these functions: it being impossible to say whether his face or his glazed hat shone the brighter.

the dinner being at length quite ready, captain cuttle dished and served it up, with no less dexterity than he had cooked it. he then dressed for dinner, by taking off his glazed hat and putting on his coat. that done, he wheeled the table close against florence on the sofa, said grace, unscrewed his hook, screwed his fork into its place, and did the honours of the table

'my lady lass,' said the captain, 'cheer up, and try to eat a deal. stand by, my deary! liver wing it is. sarse it is. sassage it is. and potato!' all which the captain ranged symmetrically on a plate, and pouring hot gravy on the whole with the useful spoon, set before his cherished guest.

'the whole row o' dead lights is up, for'ard, lady lass,' observed the captain, encouragingly, 'and everythink is made snug. try and pick a bit, my pretty. if wal'r was here - '

'ah! if i had him for my brother now!' cried florence.

'don't! don't take on, my pretty!' said the captain, 'awast, to obleege me! he was your nat'ral born friend like, warn't he, pet?'

florence had no words to answer with. she only said, 'oh, dear, dear paul! oh, walter!'

'the wery planks she walked on,' murmured the captain, looking at her drooping face, 'was as high esteemed by wal'r, as the water brooks is by the hart which never rejices! i see him now, the wery day as he was rated on them dombey books, a speaking of her with his face a glistening with doo - leastways with his modest sentiments - like a new blowed rose, at dinner. well, well! if our poor wal'r was here, my lady lass - or if he could be - for he's drownded, ain't he?'

florence shook her head.

'yes, yes; drownded,' said the captain, soothingly; 'as i was saying, if he could be here he'd beg and pray of you, my precious, to pick a leetle bit, with a look-out for your own sweet health. whereby, hold your own, my lady lass, as if it was for wal'r's sake, and lay your pretty head to the wind.'

florence essayed to eat a morsel, for the captain's pleasure. the captain, meanwhile, who seemed to have quite forgotten his own dinner, laid down his knife and fork, and drew his chair to the sofa.

'wal'r was a trim lad, warn't he, precious?' said the captain, after sitting for some time silently rubbing his chin, with his eyes fixed upon her, 'and a brave lad, and a good lad?'

florence tearfully assented.

'and he's drownded, beauty, ain't he?' said the captain, in a soothing voice.

florence could not but assent again.

'he was older than you, my lady lass,' pursued the captain, 'but you was like two children together, at first; wam't you?'

florence answered 'yes.'

'and wal'r's drownded,' said the captain. 'ain't he?'

the repetition of this inquiry was a curious source of consolation, but it seemed to be one to captain cuttle, for he came back to it again and again. florence, fain to push from her her untasted dinner, and to lie back on her sofa, gave him her hand, feeling that she had disappointed him, though truly wishing to have pleased him after all his trouble, but he held it in his own (which shook as he held it), and appearing to have quite forgotten all about the dinner and her want of appetite, went on growling at intervals, in a ruminating tone of sympathy, 'poor wal'r. ay, ay! drownded. ain't he?' and always waited for her answer, in which the great point of these singular reflections appeared to consist.

the fowl and sausages were cold, and the gravy and the egg-sauce stagnant, before the captain remembered that they were on the board, and fell to with the assistance of diogenes, whose united efforts quickly dispatched the banquet. the captain's delight and wonder at the quiet housewifery of florence in assisting to clear the table, arrange the parlour, and sweep up the hearth - only to be equalled by the fervency of his protest when she began to assist him - were gradually raised to that degree, that at last he could not choose but do nothing himself, and stand looking at her as if she were some fairy, daintily performing these offices for him; the red rim on his forehead glowing again, in his unspeakable admiration.

but when florence, taking down his pipe from the mantel-shelf gave it into his hand, and entreated him to smoke it, the good captain was so bewildered by her attention that he held it as if he had never held a pipe, in all his life. likewise, when florence, looking into the little cupboard, took out the case-bottle and mixed a perfect glass of grog for him, unasked, and set it at his elbow, his ruddy nose turned pale, he felt himself so graced and honoured. when he had filled his pipe in an absolute reverie of satisfaction, florence lighted it for him - the captain having no power to object, or to prevent her - and resuming her place on the old sofa, looked at him with a smile so loving and so grateful, a smile that showed him so plainly how her forlorn heart turned to him, as her face did, through grief, that the smoke of the pipe got into the captain's throat and made him cough, and got into the captain's eyes, and made them blink and water.

the manner in which the captain tried to make believe that the cause of these effects lay hidden in the pipe itself, and the way in which he looked into the bowl for it, and not finding it there, pretended to blow it out of the stem, was wonderfully pleasant. the pipe soon getting into better condition, he fell into that state of repose becoming a good smoker; but sat with his eyes fixed on florence, and, with a beaming placidity not to be described, and stopping every now and then to discharge a little cloud from his lips, slowly puffed it forth, as if it were a scroll coming out of his mouth, bearing the legend 'poor wal'r, ay, ay. drownded, ain't he?' after which he would resume his smoking with infinite gentleness.

unlike as they were externally - and there could scarcely be a more decided contrast than between florence in her delicate youth and beauty, and captain cuttle with his knobby face, his great broad weather-beaten person, and his gruff voice - in simple innocence of the world's ways and the world's perplexities and dangers, they were nearly on a level. no child could have surpassed captain cuttle in inexperience of everything but wind and weather; in simplicity, credulity, and generous trustfulness. faith, hope, and charity, shared his whole nature among them. an odd sort of romance, perfectly unimaginative, yet perfectly unreal, and subject to no considerations of worldly prudence or practicability, was the only partner they had in his character. as the captain sat, and smoked, and looked at florence, god knows what impossible pictures, in which she was the principal figure, presented themselves to his mind. equally vague and uncertain, though not so sanguine, were her own thoughts of the life before her; and even as her tears made prismatic colours in the light she gazed at, so, through her new and heavy grief, she already saw a rainbow faintly shining in the far-off sky. a wandering princess and a good monster in a storybook might have sat by the fireside, and talked as captain cuttle and poor florence talked - and not have looked very much unlike them.

the captain was not troubled with the faintest idea of any difficulty in retaining florence, or of any responsibility thereby incurred. having put up the shutters and locked the door, he was quite satisfied on this head. if she had been a ward in chancery, it would have made no difference at all to captain cuttle. he was the last man in the world to be troubled by any such considerations.

so the captain smoked his pipe very comfortably, and florence and he meditated after their own manner. when the pipe was out, they had some tea; and then florence entreated him to take her to some neighbouring shop, where she could buy the few necessaries she immediately wanted. it being quite dark, the captain consented: peeping carefully out first, as he had been wont to do in his time of hiding from mrs macstinger; and arming himself with his large stick, in case of an appeal to arms being rendered necessary by any unforeseen circumstance.

the pride captain cuttle had, in giving his arm to florence, and escorting her some two or three hundred yards, keeping a bright look-out all the time, and attracting the attention of everyone who passed them, by his great vigilance and numerous precautions, was extreme. arrived at the shop, the captain felt it a point of delicacy to retire during the making of the purchases, as they were to consist of wearing apparel; but he previously deposited his tin canister on the counter, and informing the young lady of the establishment that it contained fourteen pound two, requested her, in case that amount of property should not be sufficient to defray the expenses of his niece's little outfit - at the word 'niece,' he bestowed a most significant look on florence, accompanied with pantomime, expressive of sagacity and mystery - to have the goodness to 'sing out,' and he would make up the difference from his pocket. casually consulting his big watch, as a deep means of dazzling the establishment, and impressing it with a sense of property, the captain then kissed his hook to his niece, and retired outside the window, where it was a choice sight to see his great face looking in from time to time, among the silks and ribbons, with an obvious misgiving that florence had been spirited away by a back door.

'dear captain cuttle,' said florence, when she came out with a parcel, the size of which greatly disappointed the captain, who had expected to see a porter following with a bale of goods, 'i don't want this money, indeed. i have not spent any of it. i have money of my own.'

'my lady lass,' returned the baffled captain, looking straight down the street before them, 'take care on it for me, will you be so good, till such time as i ask ye for it?'

'may i put it back in its usual place,' said florence, 'and keep it there?'

the captain was not at all gratified by this proposal, but he answered, 'ay, ay, put it anywheres, my lady lass, so long as you know where to find it again. it ain't o' no use to me,' said the captain. 'i wonder i haven't chucked it away afore now.

the captain was quite disheartened for the moment, but he revived at the first touch of florence's arm, and they returned with the same precautions as they had come; the captain opening the door of the little midshipman's berth, and diving in, with a suddenness which his great practice only could have taught him. during florence's slumber in the morning, he had engaged the daughter of an elderly lady who usually sat under a blue umbrella in leadenhall market, selling poultry, to come and put her room in order, and render her any little services she required; and this damsel now appearing, florence found everything about her as convenient and orderly, if not as handsome, as in the terrible dream she had once called home.

when they were alone again, the captain insisted on her eating a slice of dry toast' and drinking a glass of spiced negus (which he made to perfection); and, encouraging her with every kind word and inconsequential quotation be could possibly think of, led her upstairs to her bedroom. but he too had something on his mind, and was not easy in his manner.

'good-night, dear heart,' said captain cuttle to her at her chamber-door.

florence raised her lips to his face, and kissed him.

at any other time the captain would have been overbalanced by such a token of her affection and gratitude; but now, although he was very sensible of it, he looked in her face with even more uneasiness than he had testified before, and seemed unwilling to leave her.

'poor wal'r!' said the captain.

'poor, poor walter!' sighed florence.

'drownded, ain't he?' said the captain.

florence shook her head, and sighed.

'good-night, my lady lass!' said captain cuttle, putting out his hand.

'god bless you, dear, kind friend!'

but the captain lingered still.

'is anything the matter, dear captain cuttle?' said florence, easily alarmed in her then state of mind. 'have you anything to tell me?'

'to tell you, lady lass!' replied the captain, meeting her eyes in confusion. 'no, no; what should i have to tell you, pretty! you don't expect as i've got anything good to tell you, sure?'

'no!' said florence, shaking her head.

the captain looked at her wistfully, and repeated 'no,' - ' still lingering, and still showing embarrassment.

'poor wal'r!' said the captain. 'my wal'r, as i used to call you! old sol gills's nevy! welcome to all as knowed you, as the flowers in may! where are you got to, brave boy? drownded, ain't he?'

concluding his apostrophe with this abrupt appeal to florence, the captain bade her good-night, and descended the stairs, while florence remained at the top, holding the candle out to light him down. he was lost in the obscurity, and, judging from the sound of his receding footsteps, was in the act of turning into the little parlour, when his head and shoulders unexpectedly emerged again, as from the deep, apparently for no other purpose than to repeat, 'drownded, ain't he, pretty?' for when he had said that in a tone of tender condolence, he disappeared.

florence was very sorry that she should unwittingly, though naturally, have awakened these associations in the mind of her protector, by taking refuge there; and sitting down before the little table where the captain had arranged the telescope and song-book, and those other rarities, thought of walter, and of all that was connected with him in the past, until she could have almost wished to lie down on her bed and fade away. but in her lonely yearning to the dead whom she had loved, no thought of home - no possibility of going back - no presentation of it as yet existing, or as sheltering her father - once entered her thoughts. she had seen the murder done. in the last lingering natural aspect in which she had cherished him through so much, he had been torn out of her heart, defaced, and slain. the thought of it was so appalling to her, that she covered her eyes, and shrunk trembling from the least remembrance of the deed, or of the cruel hand that did it. if her fond heart could have held his image after that, it must have broken; but it could not; and the void was filled with a wild dread that fled from all confronting with its shattered fragments - with such a dread as could have risen out of nothing but the depths of such a love, so wronged.

she dared not look into the glass; for the sight of the darkening mark upon her bosom made her afraid of herself, as if she bore about her something wicked. she covered it up, with a hasty, faltering hand, and in the dark; and laid her weary head down, weeping.

the captain did not go to bed for a long time. he walked to and fro in the shop and in the little parlour, for a full hour, and, appearing to have composed himself by that exercise, sat down with a grave and thoughtful face, and read out of a prayer-book the forms of prayer appointed to be used at sea. these were not easily disposed of; the good captain being a mighty slow, gruff reader, and frequently stopping at a hard word to give himself such encouragement as now, my lad! with a will!' or, 'steady, ed'ard cuttle, steady!' which had a great effect in helping him out of any difficulty. moreover, his spectacles greatly interfered with his powers of vision. but notwithstanding these drawbacks, the captain, being heartily in earnest, read the service to the very last line, and with genuine feeling too; and approving of it very much when he had done, turned in, under the counter (but not before he had been upstairs, and listened at florence's door), with a serene breast, and a most benevolent visage.

the captain turned out several times in the course of the night, to assure himself that his charge was resting quietly; and once, at daybreak, found that she was awake: for she called to know if it were he, on hearing footsteps near her door.

'yes' my lady lass,' replied the captain, in a growling whisper. 'are you all right, di'mond?'

florence thanked him, and said 'yes.'

the captain could not lose so favourable an opportunity of applying his mouth to the keyhole, and calling through it, like a hoarse breeze, 'poor wal'r! drownded, ain't he?' after which he withdrew, and turning in again, slept till seven o'clock.

nor was he free from his uneasy and embarrassed manner all that day; though florence, being busy with her needle in the little parlour, was more calm and tranquil than she had been on the day preceding. almost always when she raised her eyes from her work, she observed the captain looking at her, and thoughtfully stroking his chin; and he so often hitched his arm-chair close to her, as if he were going to say something very confidential, and hitched it away again, as not being able to make up his mind how to begin, that in the course of the day he cruised completely round the parlour in that frail bark, and more than once went ashore against the wainscot or the closet door, in a very distressed condition.

it was not until the twilight that captain cuttle, fairly dropping anchor, at last, by the side of florence, began to talk at all connectedly. but when the light of the fire was shining on the walls and ceiling of the little room, and on the tea-board and the cups and saucers that were ranged upon the table, and on her calm face turned towards the flame, and reflecting it in the tears that filled her eyes, the captain broke a long silence thus:

'you never was at sea, my own?'

'no,' replied florence.

'ay,' said the captain, reverentially; 'it's a almighty element. there's wonders in the deep, my pretty. think on it when the winds is roaring and the waves is rowling. think on it when the stormy nights is so pitch dark,' said the captain, solemnly holding up his hook, 'as you can't see your hand afore you, excepting when the wiwid lightning reweals the same; and when you drive, drive, drive through the storm and dark, as if you was a driving, head on, to the world without end, evermore, amen, and when found making a note of. them's the times, my beauty, when a man may say to his messmate (previously a overhauling of the wollume), "a stiff nor'wester's blowing, bill; hark, don't you hear it roar now! lord help 'em, how i pitys all unhappy folks ashore now!"' which quotation, as particularly applicable to the terrors of the ocean, the captain delivered in a most impressive manner, concluding with a sonorous 'stand by!'

'were you ever in a dreadful storm?' asked florence.

'why ay, my lady lass, i've seen my share of bad weather,' said the captain, tremulously wiping his head, 'and i've had my share of knocking about; but - but it ain't of myself as i was a meaning to speak. our dear boy,' drawing closer to her, 'wal'r, darling, as was drownded.'

the captain spoke in such a trembling voice, and looked at florence with a face so pale and agitated, that she clung to his hand in affright.

'your face is changed,' cried florence. 'you are altered in a moment. what is it? dear captain cuttle, it turns me cold to see you!'

'what! lady lass,' returned the captain, supporting her with his hand, 'don't be took aback. no, no! all's well, all's well, my dear. as i was a saying - wal'r - he's - he's drownded. ain't he?'

florence looked at him intently; her colour came and went; and she laid her hand upon her breast.

'there's perils and dangers on the deep, my beauty,' said the captain; 'and over many a brave ship, and many and many a bould heart, the secret waters has closed up, and never told no tales. but there's escapes upon the deep, too, and sometimes one man out of a score, - ah! maybe out of a hundred, pretty, - has been saved by the mercy of god, and come home after being given over for dead, and told of all hands lost. i - i know a story, heart's delight,' stammered the captain, 'o' this natur, as was told to me once; and being on this here tack, and you and me sitting alone by the fire, maybe you'd like to hear me tell it. would you, deary?'

florence, trembling with an agitation which she could not control or understand, involuntarily followed his glance, which went behind her into the shop, where a lamp was burning. the instant that she turned her head, the captain sprung out of his chair, and interposed his hand.

'there's nothing there, my beauty,' said the captain. 'don't look there.'

'why not?' asked florence.

the captain murmured something about its being dull that way, and about the fire being cheerful. he drew the door ajar, which had been standing open until now, and resumed his seat. florence followed him with her eyes, and looked intently in his face.

'the story was about a ship, my lady lass,' began the captain, 'as sailed out of the port of london, with a fair wind and in fair weather, bound for - don't be took aback, my lady lass, she was only out'ard bound, pretty, only out'ard bound!'

the expression on florence's face alarmed the captain, who was himself very hot and flurried, and showed scarcely less agitation than she did.

'shall i go on, beauty?' said the captain.

'yes, yes, pray!' cried florence.

the captain made a gulp as if to get down something that was sticking in his throat, and nervously proceeded:

'that there unfort'nate ship met with such foul weather, out at sea, as don't blow once in twenty year, my darling. there was hurricanes ashore as tore up forests and blowed down towns, and there was gales at sea in them latitudes, as not the stoutest wessel ever launched could live in. day arter day that there unfort'nate ship behaved noble, i'm told, and did her duty brave, my pretty, but at one blow a'most her bulwarks was stove in, her masts and rudder carved away, her best man swept overboard, and she left to the mercy of the storm as had no mercy but blowed harder and harder yet, while the waves dashed over her, and beat her in, and every time they come a thundering at her, broke her like a shell. every black spot in every mountain of water that rolled away was a bit o' the ship's life or a living man, and so she went to pieces, beauty, and no grass will never grow upon the graves of them as manned that ship.'

'they were not all lost!' cried florence. 'some were saved! - was one?'

'aboard o' that there unfort'nate wessel,' said the captain, rising from his chair, and clenching his hand with prodigious energy and exultation, 'was a lad, a gallant lad - as i've heerd tell - that had loved, when he was a boy, to read and talk about brave actions in shipwrecks - i've heerd him! i've heerd him! - and he remembered of 'em in his hour of need; for when the stoutest and oldest hands was hove down, he was firm and cheery. it warn't the want of objects to like and love ashore that gave him courage, it was his nat'ral mind. i've seen it in his face, when he was no more than a child - ay, many a time! - and when i thought it nothing but his good looks, bless him!'

'and was he saved!' cried florence. 'was he saved!'

'that brave lad,' said the captain, - 'look at me, pretty! don't look round - '

florence had hardly power to repeat, 'why not?'

'because there's nothing there, my deary,' said the captain. 'don't be took aback, pretty creetur! don't, for the sake of wal'r, as was dear to all on us! that there lad,' said the captain, 'arter working with the best, and standing by the faint-hearted, and never making no complaint nor sign of fear, and keeping up a spirit in all hands that made 'em honour him as if he'd been a admiral - that lad, along with the second-mate and one seaman, was left, of all the beatin' hearts that went aboard that ship, the only living creeturs - lashed to a fragment of the wreck, and driftin' on the stormy sea.

were they saved?' cried florence.

'days and nights they drifted on them endless waters,' said the captain, 'until at last - no! don't look that way, pretty! - a sail bore down upon 'em, and they was, by the lord's mercy, took aboard: two living and one dead.'

'which of them was dead?' cried florence.

'not the lad i speak on,' said the captain.

'thank god! oh thank god!'

'amen!' returned the captain hurriedly. 'don't be took aback! a minute more, my lady lass! with a good heart! - aboard that ship, they went a long voyage, right away across the chart (for there warn't no touching nowhere), and on that voyage the seaman as was picked up with him died. but he was spared, and - '

the captain, without knowing what he did, had cut a slice of bread from the loaf, and put it on his hook (which was his usual toasting-fork), on which he now held it to the fire; looking behind florence with great emotion in his face, and suffering the bread to blaze and burn like fuel.

'was spared,' repeated florence, 'and-?'

'and come home in that ship,' said the captain, still looking in the same direction, 'and - don't be frightened, pretty - and landed; and one morning come cautiously to his own door to take a obserwation, knowing that his friends would think him drownded, when he sheered off at the unexpected - '

'at the unexpected barking of a dog?' cried florence, quickly.

'yes,' roared the captain. 'steady, darling! courage! don't look round yet. see there! upon the wall!'

there was the shadow of a man upon the wall close to her. she started up, looked round, and with a piercing cry, saw walter gay behind her!

she had no thought of him but as a brother, a brother rescued from the grave; a shipwrecked brother saved and at her side; and rushed into his arms. in all the world, he seemed to be her hope, her comfort, refuge, natural protector. 'take care of walter, i was fond of walter!' the dear remembrance of the plaintive voice that said so, rushed upon her soul, like music in the night. 'oh welcome home, dear walter! welcome to this stricken breast!' she felt the words, although she could not utter them, and held him in her pure embrace.

captain cuttle, in a fit of delirium, attempted to wipe his head with the blackened toast upon his hook: and finding it an uncongenial substance for the purpose, put it into the crown of his glazed hat, put the glazed hat on with some difficulty, essayed to sing a verse of lovely peg, broke down at the first word, and retired into the shop, whence he presently came back express, with a face all flushed and besmeared, and the starch completely taken out of his shirt-collar, to say these words:

'wal'r, my lad, here is a little bit of property as i should wish to make over, jintly!'

the captain hastily produced the big watch, the teaspoons, the sugar-tongs, and the canister, and laying them on the table, swept them with his great hand into walter's hat; but in handing that singular strong box to walter, he was so overcome again, that he was fain to make another retreat into the shop, and absent himself for a longer space of time than on his first retirement.

but walter sought him out, and brought him back; and then the captain's great apprehension was, that florence would suffer from this new shock. he felt it so earnestly, that he turned quite rational, and positively interdicted any further allusion to walter's adventures for some days to come. captain cuttle then became sufficiently composed to relieve himself of the toast in his hat, and to take his place at the tea-board; but finding walter's grasp upon his shoulder, on one side, and florence whispering her tearful congratulations on the other, the captain suddenly bolted again, and was missing for a good ten minutes.

but never in all his life had the captain's face so shone and glistened, as when, at last, he sat stationary at the tea-board, looking from florence to walter, and from walter to florence. nor was this effect produced or at all heightened by the immense quantity of polishing he had administered to his face with his coat-sleeve during the last half-hour. it was solely the effect of his internal emotions. there was a glory and delight within the captain that spread itself over his whole visage, and made a perfect illumination there.

the pride with which the captain looked upon the bronzed cheek and the courageous eyes of his recovered boy; with which he saw the generous fervour of his youth, and all its frank and hopeful qualities, shining once more, in the fresh, wholesome manner, and the ardent face, would have kindled something of this light in his countenance. the admiration and sympathy with which he turned his eyes on florence, whose beauty, grace, and innocence could have won no truer or more zealous champion than himself, would have had an equal influence upon him. but the fulness of the glow he shed around him could only have been engendered in his contemplation of the two together, and in all the fancies springing out of that association, that came sparkling and beaming into his head, and danced about it.

how they talked of poor old uncle sol, and dwelt on every little circumstance relating to his disappearance; how their joy was moderated by the old man's absence and by the misfortunes of florence; how they released diogenes, whom the captain had decoyed upstairs some time before, lest he should bark again; the captain, though he was in one continual flutter, and made many more short plunges into the shop, fully comprehended. but he no more dreamed that walter looked on florence, as it were, from a new and far-off place; that while his eyes often sought the lovely face, they seldom met its open glance of sisterly affection, but withdrew themselves when hers were raised towards him; than he believed that it was walter's ghost who sat beside him. he saw them together in their youth and beauty, and he knew the story of their younger days, and he had no inch of room beneath his great blue waistcoat for anything save admiration of such a pair, and gratitude for their being reunited.

they sat thus, until it grew late. the captain would have been content to sit so for a week. but walter rose, to take leave for the night.

'going, walter!' said florence. 'where?'

'he slings his hammock for the present, lady lass,' said captain cuttle, 'round at brogley's. within hail, heart's delight.'

'i am the cause of your going away, walter,' said florence. 'there is a houseless sister in your place.'

'dear miss dombey,' replied walter, hesitating - 'if it is not too bold to call you so!

walter!' she exclaimed, surprised.

'if anything could make me happier in being allowed to see and speak to you, would it not be the discovery that i had any means on earth of doing you a moment's service! where would i not go, what would i not do, for your sake?'

she smiled, and called him brother.

'you are so changed,' said walter -

'i changed!' she interrupted.

'to me,' said walter, softly, as if he were thinking aloud, 'changed to me. i left you such a child, and find you - oh! something so different - '

'but your sister, walter. you have not forgotten what we promised to each other, when we parted?'

'forgotten!' but he said no more.

'and if you had - if suffering and danger had driven it from your thoughts - which it has not - you would remember it now, walter, when you find me poor and abandoned, with no home but this, and no friends but the two who hear me speak!'

'i would! heaven knows i would!' said walter.

'oh, walter,' exclaimed florence, through her sobs and tears. 'dear brother! show me some way through the world - some humble path that i may take alone, and labour in, and sometimes think of you as one who will protect and care for me as for a sister! oh, help me, walter, for i need help so much!'

'miss dombey! florence! i would die to help you. but your friends are proud and rich. your father - '

'no, no! walter!' she shrieked, and put her hands up to her head, in an attitude of terror that transfixed him where he stood. 'don't say that word!'

he never, from that hour, forgot the voice and look with which she stopped him at the name. he felt that if he were to live a hundred years, he never could forget it.

somewhere - anywhere - but never home! all past, all gone, all lost, and broken up! the whole history of her untold slight and suffering was in the cry and look; and he felt he never could forget it, and he never did.

she laid her gentle face upon the captain's shoulder, and related how and why she had fled. if every sorrowing tear she shed in doing so, had been a curse upon the head of him she never named or blamed, it would have been better for him, walter thought, with awe, than to be renounced out of such a strength and might of love.

'there, precious!' said the captain, when she ceased; and deep attention the captain had paid to her while she spoke; listening, with his glazed hat all awry and his mouth wide open. 'awast, awast, my eyes! wal'r, dear lad, sheer off for to-night, and leave the pretty one to me!'

walter took her hand in both of his, and put it to his lips, and kissed it. he knew now that she was, indeed, a homeless wandering fugitive; but, richer to him so, than in all the wealth and pride of her right station, she seemed farther off than even on the height that had made him giddy in his boyish dreams.

captain cuttle, perplexed by no such meditations, guarded florence to her room, and watched at intervals upon the charmed ground outside her door - for such it truly was to him - until he felt sufficiently easy in his mind about her, to turn in under the counter. on abandoning his watch for that purpose, he could not help calling once, rapturously, through the keyhole, 'drownded. ain't he, pretty?' - or, when he got downstairs, making another trial at that verse of lovely peg. but it stuck in his throat somehow, and he could make nothing of it; so he went to bed, and dreamed that old sol gills was married to mrs macstinger, and kept prisoner by that lady in a secret chamber on a short allowance of victuals.

弗洛伦斯长久没有醒来。白天到了它精力最充沛的时候，白天又到了它衰微不振的时候，但是身心交瘁的她却仍继续睡着，对她的陌生的床毫无知觉，对街上的喧嚣与热闹毫无知觉，对照射到被窗帘遮蔽着的窗子外面的光线也毫无知觉。不过即使是由于极度的疲劳而带来的深沉的睡眠，也不能使她完全忘却那个已不再存在的家中所发生的事情。她在不舒服地打盹，而并不是在真正地睡眠；这时候，某些模糊的、忧伤的回忆打扰了她的休息。一种郁郁不乐的悲哀像部分减轻的痛的感觉一样，一刻也没有离开她。她的苍白的脸颊时常被眼泪流湿；诚实的船长不时地把头悄悄地探进半掩的门中，真不希望看到它被流湿得这么多次。

太阳正在西边沉落下去；当它从红色的雾霭中向外探望时，它的光线穿透了对面城市教堂尖塔上的窥孔和浮雕装饰，仿佛用金色的箭射穿了它们一样；在远处，它横越过河流和平坦的河岸，像一条火的小径一样发着微光；在海洋上，它照耀着船帆；如果从坐落在城外山岗顶上的平静的教堂墓地望它的话，那么它正用耀眼的光辉笼罩着远方的景色，似乎在一片弥漫的壮丽的红光中把地和天连接起来；就在这个时候，弗洛伦斯睁开沉甸甸的眼皮，起初躺在那里漠不关心地、毫无觉察地看着四周不熟悉的墙壁，并用同样冷淡的态度听着街上的喧闹的。但是不一会儿，她从躺椅中跳了起来，用惊奇的、发呆的眼光注视着周围，并回忆起了所有的事情。

“我的宝贝，”船长敲着门，说道，“现在怎么样？”

“亲爱的朋友，”弗洛伦斯急忙向他跑过去，喊道，“是您吗？”

船长听到这称呼感到十分自豪；他看到她望着他时脸上露出的愉快的笑容，感到十分高兴，因此吻了吻他的钩子，作为回答，并默默地表示他心中的喜悦。

“现在怎么样，光辉的钻石？”船长问道。

“我一定睡得很长久了，”弗洛伦斯回答道。“我什么时候到这里来的？是昨天吗？”

“今天，就在今天这个可喜的日子，我的小姑娘夫人，”船长回答道。

“还没有到夜里吗？仍旧是白天吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。

“快到晚上了，我的宝贝，”船长拉开窗帘，说道，“瞧！”

弗洛伦斯手搁在船长的胳膊上，十分悲伤、胆怯；脸孔粗糙、身材魁伟的船长十分平静地保护着她，因此她站在灿烂的傍晚天空的玫瑰色光线中，一句话也没有说。如果船长能用语言来表达他的感情的话，那么他也许会采用很奇怪的表达方式，可是他像最能言善辩的人一样清楚地懂得，在这宁静的时刻中和在它的柔和的美中有某种东西能对弗洛伦斯的受创伤的心产生良好的效果；如果让这些眼泪自由地流淌，那将会是更好的。因此，卡特尔船长一句话也没有说。但是当他觉得她更紧地握着他的胳膊，当他觉得这孤苦伶仃的女孩子的头更靠近他，并紧贴在他的朴素的、粗劣的蓝衣袖上的时候，他就用粗糙的手温柔地按着它，并理解它；他也被弗洛伦斯所理解。

“现在好些了，我的宝贝！”船长说道。“高高兴兴地，高高兴兴地！我要到楼下去准备做点晚饭，宝贝；您等一会儿自己下楼呢，还是由爱德华·卡特尔来送您下去？”

弗洛伦斯请他相信，她能够自己走下楼去，因此船长虽然明显地怀疑，他殷勤招待客人的规矩是否允许这样做，但还是听凭她这样去做了；然后他立即在小客厅的炉火上烤了一只鸡。为了用更精巧的技术来进行烹调，他脱去上衣，卷起袖口，戴上上了光的帽子——没有帽子这个助手，他从来不从事任何不容马虎或困难费事的工作的。

弗洛伦斯用清水（这是船长在她睡觉时，出于关心，为她准备的）使她发痛的头和发烫的脸凉爽凉爽，然后她走到小镜子前，把她蓬乱的头发包扎好。这时候她看到，在她的胸前有一个发黑的斑痕，那是那只愤怒的手留下来的。她只是看了一刹那的工夫，因为她立刻把眼睛闪开了。

一看到这个伤痕，她的眼泪就重新流出来了；她觉得它是一种耻辱，并害怕见到它；但是它并没有驱使她对他生气。她没有家，没有父亲，但却仍然原谅了他的一切，几乎没有想到，她必须原谅他或者她已经原谅了他，而是她避开不去想他，就像她已经从现实世界中逃走一样；他已完全离开了，不存在了。在世界上已没有这样的人了。

今后做什么，今后到哪里去生活，弗洛伦斯——这个可怜的、没有经验的女孩子！——现在还不能考虑这些。她曾经模糊地梦想到遥远的什么地方去找到几个小妹妹，她去教她们；她们将亲切地对待她；她将采用一个化名，并热诚地爱她们；她们将在幸福的家庭中长大，结婚，善良地对待她们的老家庭女教师，也许到时候还会委托她去教育她们的女儿们。她曾想过，她这样变成一位头发斑白的女人，把她的秘密一直带进坟墓，而弗洛伦斯·董贝这个名字则被人们遗忘，这将是多么奇怪与悲伤的事啊！可是这一切现在对她来说都是十分模糊不清。她只知道，她在这尘世中没有父亲；当只剩下她单独一个人的时候，她向天国中的父亲祈祷，并这样说了许多次。

她积蓄起来的钱总共不过几基尼。从这当中需要拿出一部分去买些衣服，因为她除了身上穿着的以外，没有别的衣服了。她太悲伤了，顾不得去想她的钱会多么快地被用掉——因为她还是个对世俗事务很没有经验的孩子，即使她没有别的忧愁，她现在也还不会在这方面过份忧愁的。她努力使自己的思想平静下来，使自己的眼泪止住不流，使自己的情绪安定下来，并使自己相信，事情仅仅是在几小时以前，而不是像她觉得的那样，是在几星期或几个月以前发生的；然后她走下楼，到她仁厚的保护人那里去。

船长已经很细心地铺好了桌布，这时正在一只有柄的平底锅里做鸡蛋调味汁，在这同时，他怀着浓厚的兴趣，不时给鸡浇上油，鸡在绳子上转动着，被火烤成棕色。船长把弗洛伦斯用坐垫在沙发上支撑着（沙发已推到一个温暖的角落里，使她更为舒适），然后继续以非凡的技巧进行烹调：他在第二只平底锅中做热肉汁，在第三只平底锅中煮几个土豆，但决没有忘记第一只平底锅里的鸡蛋调味汁，在这同时又时刻不停地用匙子给鸡的各个部分均匀地浇上油，并把鸡在火上翻过来翻过去。除了照料这些事情外，船长还得注意看着一只小煎锅，锅里的一些香肠在冒着热气，并吱啦吱啦地发出十分悦耳的，世界上从来没有一位厨师在紧张操作时像船长这样容光焕发的，因此实在难以判断，究竟是他的脸还是他那顶上了光的帽子更亮一些。

晚饭终于做好了，卡特尔船长把它们盛在盘子里，端到桌子上，他那灵巧的动作丝毫也不比烹调时逊色。这时候，他摘掉那顶上了光的帽子，穿上外衣，作为他吃晚餐的礼服。然后他把有轮子的桌子推到坐在沙发上的弗洛伦斯跟前，做了饭前的祷告，又把那只当手的钩子的螺钉拧松，取下钩子，换上一把餐叉，接着又把螺钉拧紧，然后他充当起餐桌的主人来。

“我的小姑娘夫人，”船长说道，“高兴起来，设法多吃一些。做好准备，我的宝贝！这是小翅膀。这是调味汁。这是香肠。还有土豆！”船长把所有这些匀称地排列在一只盘子里，用那只有用的匙子在上面浇上热肉计，然后把盘子端到他所喜爱的客人面前。

“所有的舷窗盖都关上了，小姑娘夫人，”船长用鼓舞的口吻说道，“一切事情都安排妥当了。吃一点吧，我的宝贝。

如果沃尔在这里的话——”

“啊，如果我现在有他当我哥哥的话！”弗洛伦斯喊道。

“别！别伤心了，我的宝贝！”船长说道，“停一下，我请求您！他过去是您天生的、经受过考验的朋友，是不是，宝宝？”

弗洛伦斯没有什么话好回答。她只是说，“啊，亲爱的，亲爱的保罗呀！啊，沃尔特呀！”

“连她走过的甲板沃尔都是十分尊重的，”船长看着她那沮丧的脸孔，喃喃自语道，“就像从没有痛快喝够的公鹿尊敬溪水一样！他被列入董贝公司名册的那一天吃晚饭的时候，他谈到了她，脸上闪闪发光，就像一朵刚开放的玫瑰花一样；如果不是露珠在发光的话，那么至少是由于他怀着纯洁的感情，所以脸上才发光的。我现在就像那天看到他的情景一样看到了他。哎呀，哎呀！如果我们可怜的沃尔现在在这里的话，我的小姑娘夫人——或者说如果他能在这里的话——那该多好啊，因为他已经淹死了，是不是？”

弗洛伦斯点点头。

“是的，是的，淹死了，”船长安慰地说道，“我刚才说过，如果他能在这里的话，我的宝贝，那么他就一定会为了您的健康，请您，求您吃一点儿。所以说，您得支撑住自己，我的小姑娘夫人，就仿佛是看在沃尔的分上一样，并且迎着风，抬起您那漂亮的头。”

弗洛伦斯为了使船长高兴，试着吃了一口。这时候，船长似乎完全忘记他自己的晚饭，放下餐刀和叉子，把他的椅子拉到沙发旁边。

“沃尔是个漂亮的孩子，是不是，宝贝？”船长默默无言地坐了一会儿，擦着下巴，眼睛凝视着她，说道，“而且他又是一个勇敢的孩子，一个善良的孩子，是不是？”

弗洛伦斯眼泪汪汪地表示同意。

“他淹死了，是不是，美人儿？”船长用安慰的声调说道。

弗洛伦斯又只好表示同意。

“他比您大一些，我的小姑娘夫人，”船长继续说道，“但是当初你们两人就像两个孩子一样，是不是？”

弗洛伦斯回答道，“是的。”

“但是沃尔特淹死了，”船长说道。“是不是？”

如果多次地重复这个问题能成为安慰的源泉的话，那么这可是一件稀奇的事情，但对卡特尔船长来说似乎倒真是这样的，因为他一次又一次地回到这个问题上。弗洛伦斯无可奈何地放弃了她这顿没有尝过的晚饭，向后仰靠在沙发上，把手伸给他，觉得她使他失望了，虽然她本来倒是真心诚意地想在他忙碌操劳之后让他高兴高兴的；但是他把她的手握在手中（这时他的手颤抖了），似乎完全忘记了晚饭和她缺乏食欲的情况，不时用沉思的、同情的声调低声说道，“可怜的沃尔！是的，是的！淹死了。是不是？”每一次总等待着她的回答，好像他提这个奇怪的问题只是为了得到回答似的。

当船长记起餐桌上还摆着菜，重新去吃时，鸡和香肠已经冷了，肉汁和鸡蛋调味汁已经沉淀了；他请戴奥吉尼斯来帮助，在他们的共同努力下，这顿晚宴很快就被吃完了。弗洛伦斯开始不声不响地帮助收拾桌子，整理客厅，扫除炉灰（她开始帮助时，船长热情地劝阻，只有这种热情才能和她干活时的热情比个不相上下）；船长看到这种情形又喜又惊，最后只好自己完全不做，站在一旁看着她，仿佛她是个什么小仙人，在优美地为他服务似的；他由于难以形容的赞赏，额上的红圈又发出亮光了。

但是当弗洛伦斯把他的烟斗从壁炉架上取下，递到他手里，请他抽烟的时候，善良的船长竟被她的关怀激动得把烟斗一直拿在手里，仿佛他这一辈子从来没有拿过烟斗似的。同样，当弗洛伦斯往小碗柜里看看，取出方瓶，不等他请求，就给他调了一杯很好的搀水烈酒，放到他的身旁的时候，他感到自己受到极大的厚待与尊敬，红润的鼻子竟发白了。当他怡然自得地在烟斗中装上烟草时，弗洛伦斯给他点着了火——船长不能反对或阻止她——，然后又回到沙发上的老位子上去，微笑着看着他；她那微笑非常可爱，充满了感激之情，并向他十分清楚地表明：她那孤独无助的、悲痛的心，就像她的脸一样，完全向着他；船长看到这些情景，感动得烟斗中喷出的烟都呛入了喉咙，使他咳嗽，而且还熏进他的眼睛，使它们眨巴和流泪。

船长想使她相信，造成这些后果的原因隐藏在烟斗本身；他往烟斗里看看，想要找出它；在那里没有找到它的时候，就假装要把它从烟管里吹出来；他的这些神态是极有意思的。烟斗不久就不出毛病了，于是他像一位善于抽烟的人那样，悠闲自得地坐在那里，眼睛凝视着弗洛伦斯，并用一种难以形容的、喜气洋溢而又平平静静的神色，时常停住不抽，而从嘴中喷出一小团烟云，这烟云像一个纸卷似地从他嘴中慢慢舒展开来，上面写着：“可怜的沃尔，是的，是的，他淹死了，是不是？”在这之后，他就以无比文雅的态度继续抽着烟。

虽然他们在外表上十分不相像——弗洛伦斯是一位美丽的妙龄女郎，卡特尔船长则脸上长满了疙瘩，粗糙，身躯魁伟、饱经风霜——，但是就不通人情世故，对世间生活的艰难与危险方面天真无知这一点来说，他们几乎是处于同一水平。除了风与气候之外，对于其他事情，没有一个孩子能比卡特尔船长更缺乏经验的；没有一个孩子在纯朴天真、容易上当、慷慨大方和深信不疑方面能超过他的了。信仰，希望与仁爱构成了他的全部性格。在这之外，还可以加上奇怪的浪漫主义；这种浪漫主义完全是非想象的，然而又完全是非现实的；它不大去考虑世俗的精明打算，也不大考虑是否切实可行。当船长坐在那里，抽着烟，看着弗洛伦斯的时候，天知道在他心头出现了一幅什么样难以相信的、以她为主要人物的图画。她自己对未来生活的想法虽然不是那么乐观，但却同样的模糊与不明确；甚至就像她的眼泪把她所注视的光线折射成各种颜色一样，她通过她的新的、沉重的悲痛，已看到一条彩虹在远方的天空中微弱地照耀着；故事书中一位流浪的公主和一位善良的妖怪可以坐在炉边谈着话，就像卡特尔船长和可怜的弗洛伦斯在想着那样——他们在外表上与他们两人也并不是很不相像的。

船长丝毫没有担心弗洛伦斯留在身边会有什么困难或他将因此而承担什么责任。关上护窗板，锁上门以后，他在这方面就完全无忧无虑。如果她是大法官法庭监护的少女的话，那么对卡特尔船长来说，这也完全没有差别。他是世界上最不为这些考虑担心的人。

因此，船长很愉快地抽着烟，弗洛伦斯和他按照各自的方式沉思着。当烟斗里的烟熄灭以后，他们喝了一些茶；然后弗洛伦斯请求他把她领到邻近的店铺里去买一些她迫切需要的物品。因为天色已经很黑，所以船长就答应了；但是他首先还是小心翼翼地向外面街道上窥探了一下，就像他在躲避麦克斯廷杰太太的时候惯常做的那样，并用大手杖武装了自己，以便在遇到意外情况下必要时可以诉诸武力。

卡特尔船长把手递给弗洛伦斯，护送她走了大约二、三百码，一直机警地注视着四周；他那高度的警惕性与无数提防的措施吸引着每位从他们身旁走过的人的注意；在进行所有这些行动时，他都感到极大的自豪。到达店铺的时候，船长出于审慎的考虑，觉得有必要在她购买物品时离开，因为在这些物品中包括弗洛伦斯穿着的服装；但是他事先把他锡制的茶叶罐放在柜台上，告诉店里年轻的女营业员，罐里有十四镑两先令，如果这些钱还不够支付他的外甥女购置服装的费用的话——当说到外甥女这个词儿的时候，他意味深长地向弗洛伦斯看了一眼，同时默默地做了个机智与神秘的手势——，那就劳驾她向他大声喊叫一声，他将从口袋中拿出钱来补足差额。船长好像是无意地看了看他的大表，其实他真正的目的是想在营业员面前炫耀一下他的财富，使她留下深刻的印象；然后他吻了吻他的钩子，向他的外甥女致意；并走到橱窗外面；他那很大的脸孔不时探进店里，出现在丝绸与缎带中间，显然是因为担心弗洛伦斯会被人从后门拐走，他这种进进出出的美妙图景确实是很值得一看的。

“亲爱的卡特尔船长，”弗洛伦斯拿着一个小包包从店里走出来的时候说道。这包包的体积使船长大为失望，因为他原希望看到一个搬运工人扛着一捆货物跟随在她后面的。“我确实不需要这钱。我一个钱也没有花。我自己有钱。”

“我的小姑娘夫人，”失望的船长笔直望着前面的街道，回答道，“我是不是可以烦请您给我小心保管着，直到我问您要它的时候？”

“我可以把它放回到原先的地方，并把它保存在那里吗？”

弗洛伦斯问道。

这个建议一点也不使船长高兴，但是他还是回答道，“行，行，把它放到哪里都行，我的小姑娘夫人，只要您知道到哪里找到它就好了。它对我完全没有用，”船长说道。“真奇怪，我以前怎么没有把它花掉呢。”

船长一时很不开心，但一接触到弗洛伦斯的胳膊，他的精神又复苏了。他们像出来的时候一样谨慎小心地回到家里；船长打开小海军军官候补生的住所的门，迅速地钻了进去，只有长期的实践才能使他那么敏捷。弗洛伦斯上午睡觉的时候，他已雇了一位姑娘来给弗洛伦斯收拾房间，并帮助她做一些她所需要做的零星杂事；这位姑娘是平时在伦敦肉类市场坐在一把蓝伞下面卖家禽的一位老太太的女儿，现在她已来了。弗洛伦斯看到她周围的一切就像在她曾一度称为家的可怕的梦中一样舒适、整齐，如果说不是那么漂亮的话。

当又只剩下他们两人的时候，船长坚决请她吃一片干烤面包片，喝一杯加了香料的尼格斯酒（他做得好极了），并用各种亲切的话语和他能想得出来的一些前后互不连贯的引语来鼓励她，然后把她领到楼上的卧室中去。但是他也还是有些什么事情在心头，神态不大自在。

“晚安，亲爱的心肝，”卡特尔船长在她的卧室门口说道。

弗洛伦斯把嘴唇凑近他的脸，吻了他。

在任何别的时候，她这种亲热与感激的表示都是会使船长激动得站不正身子、歪倒下来的，但是现在他虽然完全感觉到这一点，但却比先前更加不安地注视着她的脸孔，似乎不愿意离开她一样。

“可怜的沃尔！”船长说道。

“可怜的、可怜的沃尔特！”弗洛伦斯叹息道。

“淹死了，是不是？”船长说道。

弗洛伦斯点点头，叹了一口气。

“晚安，我的小姑娘夫人！”卡特尔船长伸出手来说道。

“上帝保佑您，亲爱的、仁慈的朋友！”

但是船长仍旧拖延着不走。

“有什么事吗，亲爱的卡特尔船长？”弗洛伦斯问道，她当时的心情是容易感到惊慌的。“您有什么事情要告诉我吗？”

“有什么事情要告诉您吗，小姑娘夫人，”船长回答道，他慌乱地碰到了她的眼光。“没有，没有；我有什么事情应当告诉您的呢，宝贝！当然，您没有指望我会告诉您什么好事情吧？”

“没有，”弗洛伦斯摇摇头，说道。

船长沉思地望着她，重复道，“没有，”仍旧在门口拖延着不走，而且仍旧表现出为难的样子。

“可怜的沃尔！”船长说道。“我的沃尔，我过去经常这样喊你的！老所尔·吉尔斯的外甥！你就像五月的鲜花一样，所有认识你的人都喜欢你！你现在在哪里呀，勇敢的孩子！淹死了，是不是？”船长在末尾向弗洛伦斯突然问了一句之后，向她祝了晚安，就下楼去了；弗洛伦斯站在楼梯口，拿着蜡烛照他。

他在黑暗中消失了；从他离开的脚步声来判断，他正走到小客厅里去，这时他的头和肩膀又出乎意料之外地好像从深渊中浮现了出来，显然，他唯一的目的是再重复问一句：“他淹死了，是不是，宝贝？”因为他用温柔的、怜悯的语调说完这些话之后，就不见了。弗洛伦斯很遗憾，她在这里避难，无意中在她的保护人的心中唤醒了这些联带的回忆（尽管这是十分自然的），她坐在船长在上面摆着望远镜、歌曲集和其他珍藏物品的小桌子前面，回想着沃尔特和过去跟他有关的一切，直到她非常想躺到床上，沉沉地睡去为止。可是当她孤独地怀念着她曾爱过的那些死者时，在她的脑子中一次也没有闪现过家的念头，一次也没有想过可能回去，一次也没有想过它还依旧存在，或她的父亲还继续住在它的屋顶下面。她看到他那次殴打她的情景。她过去不论发生各种事情仍然珍惜着的父亲的那最后未灭的形象，已从她心中被夺走了，损伤了，毁灭了。一想到它，对她来说是那么可怕，因此她捂上眼睛，哆嗦地避开对那个行动和干出那个行动的那只残酷的手的一星半点的回忆。如果在这之后，她那可爱的心还能保存他的形象的话，那么它一定破碎了；但是它不能；这