"After I had bundled in my things somehow I struck a match and had a
dazzling glimpse of my berth; then I pitched the roll of my bedding into
the bunk but took no trouble to spread it out. I wasn't sleepy now,
neither was I tired. And the thought that I was done with the earth for
many many months to come made me feel very quiet and self-contained as it
were. Sailors will understand what I mean."
Marlow nodded. "It is a strictly professional feeling," he commented.
"But other professions or trades know nothing of it. It is only this
calling whose primary appeal lies in the suggestion of restless adventure
which holds out that deep sensation to those who embrace it. It is
difficult to define, I admit."
"I should call it the peace of the sea," said Mr. Charles Powell in an
earnest tone but looking at us as though he expected to be met by a laugh
of derision and were half prepared to salve his reputation for common
sense by joining in it. But neither of us laughed at Mr. Charles Powell
in whose start in life we had been called to take a part. He was lucky
in his audience.
"A very good name," said Marlow looking at him approvingly. "A sailor
finds a deep feeling of security in the exercise of his calling. The
exacting life of the sea has this advantage over the life of the earth
that its claims are simple and cannot be evaded."
"Gospel truth," assented Mr. Powell. "No! they cannot be evaded."
That an excellent understanding should have established itself between my
old friend and our new acquaintance was remarkable enough. For they were
exactly dissimilar--one individuality projecting itself in length and the
other in breadth, which is already a sufficient ground for irreconcilable
difference. Marlow who was lanky, loose, quietly composed in varied
shades of brown robbed of every vestige of gloss, had a narrow, veiled
glance, the neutral bearing and the secret irritability which go together
with a predisposition to congestion of the liver. The other, compact,
broad and sturdy of limb, seemed extremely full of sound organs
functioning vigorously all the time in order to keep up the brilliance of
his colouring, the light curl of his coal-black hair and the lustre of
his eyes, which asserted themselves roundly in an open, manly face.
Between two such organisms one would not have expected to find the
slightest temperamental accord. But I have observed that profane men
living in ships like the holy men gathered together in monasteries
develop traits of profound resemblance. This must be because the service
of the sea and the service of a temple are both detached from the
vanities and errors of a world which follows no severe rule. The men of
the sea understand each other very well in their view of earthly things,
for simplicity is a good counsellor and isolation not a bad educator. A
turn of mind composed of innocence and scepticism is common to them all,
with the addition of an unexpected insight into motives, as of
disinterested lookers-on at a game. Mr. Powell took me aside to say, "I like the things he says."