Into the Storm Read Online Free PDF

replied.
    â€œAlso in business?”
    â€œNothin’ in particular.”
    â€œI hope, Mr. Grout, that you’re not one of these lazy, ill-educated fellows who come to my country merely to gawk. We do not appreciate laziness there. Hard, honest work has made us great. Hard, honest work will make us greater.”
    â€œExcellent philosophy,” Mr. Clemspool applauded. “Mr. Grout will be indebted to you for your advice.”
    â€œHappy to be helpful,” Mr. Shagwell said. “But I was taking my walk about the deck. I intend to do so three times a day regardless of the weather. Gentlemen, since we three constitute the first-class passengers, I trust I shall see you at the captain’s table. Good day.” So saying, he left the room.
    The moment the door shut Mr. Clemspool laughed.
    â€œI don’t see wot’s funny,” Mr. Grout complained. “Sayin’ yer ’ave fifty thousand! Yer ’ave nothin’!”
    â€œGive me a man who has nothing but answers,” Mr. Clemspool observed, “and I shall show you a man who has no questions. I enjoy doing business with a man like that. Where are you going?”
    â€œI’m going to find that Mr. Drabble and fix up them readin’ lessons as ’e promised.”
    â€œDo so, Mr. Grout. You heard what that Shagwell fellow said. In America, laziness is not appreciated.”
    For his part, Ambrose Shagwell, striding around the quarterdeck, speculated if this man Clemspool were not the answer to his great problem, his pressing need for money. He rather thought he was.

 
    A t the bowsprit of the Robert Peel , a thin spray of sea blew upon Mr. Drabble’s forehead like a cooling hand. This was a considerable blessing, since the actor’s whole mind still burned with Maura O’Connell’s rejection of his proposal. To add insult to his sense of injury, she was now bestowing much attention upon Bridy — the girl who had been foisted on them. The actor, feeling jealous, had left the steerage to go up on deck.
    The despondent man entertained the idea of throwing himself into the waves and thus ending his misery. Though the gesture suited his mood, he was not so wretched as to believe that such an act would inspire love in Maura. Even if it did, how could he rejoice in it at the bottom of the sea?
    Instead, Mr. Drabble thought about his life. He was willing to acknowledge that he had been a failure in England. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more certain he was that Maura had refused him for exactly that reason. Or was it because that runner, Toggs, had knocked him down so easilyat Mrs. Sonderbye’s? Oh, why hadn’t he put up more of a fight? Because, he told himself, he was a coward.
    Perhaps, the actor mused, he should have remained in Liverpool. There, at least, he’d earned a few pennies. It was a kind of living. What could he possibly do in America?
    A line from Hamlet crept into his head: “When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.” The words soothed him. Emboldened, he recited other lines from Shakespeare. The more he spoke, the better he felt. Soon he was emoting in his most flamboyant manner, extending his hands and arms, presenting his profile to the wind until, when he was finished, he felt obliged to take a deep bow. To his surprise he heard applause. He turned. There was Mr. Grout.
    â€œBravo!” the man cried. “Yer in as fine a voice as ever.”
    â€œI am happy to see you, sir,” Mr. Drabble returned, though he was, in fact, not overjoyed to have company. There was something comforting in reciting tragic lines to an uncaring wind.
    â€œPracticin’ for yer American performin’?” Mr. Grout asked.
    The actor smiled grimly but was unable to resist someone’s interest in him. “Mr. Grout, sir, I confess I don’t know exactly what I shall do in America.”
    â€œCan’t say I know wot