Chance

J >> Joseph Conrad >> Chance


"Just ask him yourself. You are brave."

"Oh, I am brave enough," she said with a sigh.

"Then do. For if you don't you will be wronging that patient man
cruelly."

I departed leaving her dumb. Next day, seeing Powell making preparations
to go ashore, I asked him to give my regards to Mrs. Anthony. He
promised he would.

"Listen, Powell," I said. "We got to know each other by chance?"

"Oh, quite!" he admitted, adjusting his hat.

"And the science of life consists in seizing every chance that presents
itself," I pursued. "Do you believe that?"

"Gospel truth," he declared innocently.

"Well, don't forget it."

"Oh, I! I don't expect now anything to present itself," he said, jumping
ashore.

He didn't turn up at high water. I set my sail and just as I had cast
off from the bank, round the black barn, in the dusk, two figures
appeared and stood silent, indistinct.

"Is that you, Powell?" I hailed.

"And Mrs. Anthony," his voice came impressively through the silence of
the great marsh. "I am not sailing to-night. I have to see Mrs. Anthony
home."

"Then I must even go alone," I cried.

Flora's voice wished me "_bon voyage_" in a most friendly but tremulous
tone.

"You shall hear from me before long," shouted Powell, suddenly, just as
my boat had cleared the mouth of the creek.

"This was yesterday," added Marlow, lolling in the arm-chair lazily. "I
haven't heard yet; but I expect to hear any moment . . . What on earth
are you grinning at in this sarcastic manner? I am not afraid of going
to church with a friend. Hang it all, for all my belief in Chance I am
not exactly a pagan . . . "