ONE:The steamer descended the Woosung River to its intersection with the Yang-tse-kiang, and then began the ascent of the latter. The great stream was so broad that it seemed more like a bay than a river. This condition continued for a hundred and fifty miles, when the bay narrowed to a river, and the far-famed Silver Island came in sight. It stands in mid-stream, a steep hill of rock, about three hundred feet high, crowned with a pagoda, and covered from base to summit with trees and bushes and rich grass. At first it might be taken for an uninhabited spot, but as the boat approaches you can see that there are numerous summer-houses and other habitations peeping out from the verdure. A little beyond the island there is a city which straggles over the hills, and is backed by a range of mountains that make a sharp outline against the sky. This is Chin-kiang, the first stopping-place of the steamer as she proceeds from Shanghai to Han-kow. She was to remain several hours, and our friends embraced the opportunity to take a stroll on shore. Here is Frank's account of the expedition:
TWO:Overhead was the immense blue dome of the sky; beneath and around were the waters of San Francisco Bay. On the right was Monte Diablo, like an advanced sentinel of the Sierras; and on the left were the sand-hills of the peninsula, covered with the walls and roofs of the great city of the Pacific Coast. The steamer moved on and on through the Golden Gate; and in less than an hour from the time of leaving the dock, she dropped her pilot, the gangway passage was closed, and her prow pointed to the westward for a voyage of five thousand miles.
FORE:But Gregg had the sense to admit to himself that his generalisation was no more than a faint aurora hovering around the rumoured dawn of the future. It was necessary, in the first place, to posit an imperfect thinking apparatus. After all, the Clockwork man was still a mystery to be solved, and even if he failed to justify a single theory born of merely human conjecture, there still remained the exhilarating task of finding out what actually he was and how he had come to earth.While he waited for the completion of her work, he occupied himself with businesses that demanded his scrutiny, but all the while his ear was pricked to listen to the sound of her typewriting machine, or rather to listen for the silence of its cessation, for that would mean that Norah would presently come in with the letters for his signature. There was nothing in his work that demanded a close grip of his mind, and beneath the mechanical attention that he gave it, memory like some deep-water undertow was flowing on its own course past the hidden subaqueous landscape. There was a whole stretch of scenery there out of sight of the surface of his life. Till she had come into it, there was no man who possessed less of a secret history: he had his hobby of books as all the world knew, his blameless domestic conduct, his hard{254} Puritan morality and religion, his integrity and success in money-making and keen business faculty. That was all there was to him. But now he had dived below that, yet without making any break in the surface. All that he had done and been before continued its uninterrupted course; his life beneath the deep waters did not make itself known by as much as a bubble coming to the surface.
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