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I

say

,

we

good

Presbyterian

Christians

should

be

charitable

in

these

things

,

and

not

fancy

ourselves

so

vastly

superior

to

other

mortals

,

pagans

and

what

not

,

because

of

their

half-crazy

conceits

on

these

subjects

.

There

was

Queequeg

,

now

,

certainly

entertaining

the

most

absurd

notions

about

Yojo

and

his

Ramadan

;

--

but

what

of

that

?

Queequeg

thought

he

knew

what

he

was

about

,

I

suppose

;

he

seemed

to

be

content

;

and

there

let

him

rest

.

All

our

arguing

with

him

would

not

avail

;

let

him

be

,

I

say

:

and

Heaven

have

mercy

on

us

all

--

Presbyterians

and

Pagans

alike

--

for

we

are

all

somehow

dreadfully

cracked

about

the

head

,

and

sadly

need

mending

.

Towards

evening

,

when

I

felt

assured

that

all

his

performances

and

rituals

must

be

over

,

I

went

to

his

room

and

knocked

at

the

door

;

but

no

answer

.

I

tried

to

open

it

,

but

it

was

fastened

inside

.

"

Queequeg

,

"

said

I

softly

through

the

key-hole

:

--

all

silent

.

"

I

say

,

Queequeg

!

why

do

n't

you

speak

?

It

's

I

--

Ishmael

.

"

But

all

remained

still

as

before

.

I

began

to

grow

alarmed

.

I

had

allowed

him

such

abundant

time

;

I

thought

he

might

have

had

an

apoplectic

fit

.

I

looked

through

the

key-hole

;

but

the

door

opening

into

an

odd

corner

of

the

room

,

the

key-hole

prospect

was

but

a

crooked

and

sinister

one

.

I

could

only

see

part

of

the

foot-board

of

the

bed

and

a

line

of

the

wall

,

but

nothing

more

.

I

was

surprised

to

behold

resting

against

the

wall

the

wooden

shaft

of

Queequeg

's

harpoon

,

which

the

landlady

the

evening

previous

had

taken

from

him

,

before

our

mounting

to

the

chamber

.

That

's

strange

,

thought

I

;

but

at

any

rate

,

since

the

harpoon

stands

yonder

,

and

he

seldom

or

never

goes

abroad

without

it

,

therefore

he

must

be

inside

here

,

and

no

possible

mistake

.

Отключить рекламу

"

Queequeg

!

--

Queequeg

!

"

--

all

still

.

Something

must

have

happened

.

Apoplexy

!

I

tried

to

burst

open

the

door

;

but

it

stubbornly

resisted

.

Running

down

stairs

,

I

quickly

stated

my

suspicions

to

the

first

person

I

met

--

the

chamber-maid

.

"

La

!

la

!

"

she

cried

,

"

I

thought

something

must

the

matter

.

I

went

to

make

the

bed

after

breakfast

,

and

the

door

was

locked

;

and

not

a

mouse

to

be

heard

;

and

it

's

been

just

so

silent

ever

since

.

But

I

thought

,

may

be

,

you

had

both

gone

off

and

locked

your

baggage

in

for

safe

keeping

.

La

!

la

,

ma'am

!

--

Mistress

!

murder

!

Mrs.

Hussey

!

apoplexy

!

"

--

and

with

these

cries

she

ran

towards

the

kitchen

,

I

following

.

Mrs.

Hussey

soon

appeared

,

with

a

mustard-pot

in

one

hand

and

a

vinegar-cruet

in

the

other

,

having

just

broken

away

from

the

occupation

of

attending

to

the

castors

,

and

scolding

her

little

black

boy

meantime

.

"

Wood-house

!

"

cried

I

,

"

which

way

to

it

?

Run

for

God

's

sake

,

and

fetch

something

to

pry

open

the

door

--

the

axe

!

--

the

axe

!

he

's

had

a

stroke

;

depend

upon

it

!

"

--

and

so

saying

I

was

unmethodically

rushing

up

stairs

again

empty-handed

,

when

Mrs.

Hussey

interposed

the

mustard-pot

and

vinegar-cruet

,

and

the

entire

castor

of

her

countenance

.

"

What

's

the

matter

with

you

,

young

man

?

"

Отключить рекламу

"

Get

the

axe

!

For

God

's

sake

,

run

for

the

doctor

,

some

one

,

while

I

pry

it

open

!

"

"

Look

here

,

"

said

the

landlady

,

quickly

putting

down

the

vinegar-cruet

,

so

as

to

have

one

hand

free

;

"

look

here

;

are

you

talking

about

prying

open

any

of

my

doors

?

"

--

and

with

that

she

seized

my

arm

.

"

What

's

the

matter

with

you

?

What

's

the

matter

with

you

,

shipmate

?

"

In

as

calm

,

but

rapid

a

manner

as

possible

,

I

gave

her

to

understand

the

whole

case

.

Unconsciously

clapping

the

vinegar-cruet

to

one

side

of

her

nose

,

she

ruminated

for

an

instant

;

then

exclaimed

--

"

No

!

I

have

n't

seen

it

since

I

put

it

there

.

"

Running

to

a

little

closet

under

the

landing

of

the

stairs

,

she

glanced

in

,

and

returning

,

told

me

that

Queequeg

's

harpoon

was

missing

.

"

He

's

killed

himself

,

"

she

cried

.

"

It

's

unfort

'n

ate

Stiggs

done

over

again

there

goes

another

counterpane

--

God

pity

his

poor

mother

!

--

it

will

be

the

ruin

of

my

house

.

Has

the

poor

lad

a

sister

?

Where

's

that

girl

?

--

there

,

Betty

,

go

to

Snarles

the

Painter

,

and

tell

him

to

paint

me

a

sign

,

with

--

"

no

suicides

permitted

here

,

and

no

smoking

in

the

parlor

;

"

--

might

as

well

kill

both

birds

at

once

.

Kill

?

The

Lord

be

merciful

to

his

ghost

!

What

's

that

noise

there

?

You

,

young

man

,

avast

there

!

"

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