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THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 71
on board, examined my cabin, introduced himself to the
captain, and recommended me to his special attention. He
behaved like an elder brother, a devoted friend, and we
said good-bye to each other, deeply moved.
" Take care of yourself, old man," he said. " You are
not looking well."
I really felt quite ill, but I pulled myself together until
the mooring ropes were cast adrift.
Then a sudden terror of this long and senseless journey
seized me, a frantic desire to throw myself into tlie water
and sAA-im to the shore. But I had not the strength to
yield to my impulse, and remained standing on deck, un-
decided what to do, waving my handkerchief in response
to my friend’s greeting until he disappeared, blotted out
by the vessels which rode at anchor in the roads.
The boat was a heavily loaded cargo steamer, with but
one cabin on the main deck. I went to my berth, stretched
myself on the mattress and pulled the blankets over me,
determined to sleep through the first twenty-four hours,
so as to prevent any attempt at escape on my part. I
must have been unconscious for half-an-hour, when I sud-
denly started from my sleep as if I had received an
electric shock, a very ordinary result of dissipation and
sleeplessness.
In a second the whole dreary reality had flashed into
my mind. I went on deck to exercise my stiff limbs. I
watched the barren brown shores receding before my eyes,
the trees stripped of their leaves, the yellowish-grey
meadows ; in the hollows of the rocks snow was already
lying. The water looked grey with sepia-coloured spots ;
the sky was leaden and full of gloom ; the dirty deck, the
uncouth sailors—everything contributed to deepen my
depression. I felt an unspeakable longing for human
companionship, but there did not appear to be a single
passenger—not one ! I climbed on to the bridge to look
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