Chapter 42 Chapter Twelve

Mr. Ramsay had almost finished the book.One of his hands rests on top of the page, as if ready to turn the page as soon as the book is finished.He sat there, bareheaded, completely exposed to the sun and air, letting the sea wind blow his hair loose.He looked very old.With his head framed now against the lighthouse and against the boundless waves rushing toward the open sea, James thought, he looked like ancient rocks lying on the sand; The feeling behind their minds—the loneliness that was, for them, the true meaning of all things—had taken form. He read very quickly, as if he was in a hurry to finish the book.They were indeed very close to the lighthouse now.It looms up there, bare and straight, black and white, striking, and you can see the waves splashing and breaking into white shards like glass shattered on rocks.You can see the lines and creases in the rock.You could see clearly the windows of the lighthouse; a patch of white paper was pasted on one window, and a patch of green moss on the rocky reef.A man came out to watch them through binoculars, and then went back into the house.James thought, this is what the lighthouse has looked like across the sea for all these years; it is just a desolate lonely tower on a bare rock.But it satisfies him.It confirmed some vague feeling he had about his own character.He thought of the garden at home.Those old ladies, he thought, were dragging chairs across the lawn.There's that old Mrs. Beckwith, for example, she's always saying how beautiful it is, how lovely it is, and how proud and happy they should be of it.But really, James thought, looking at the lighthouse on the rock, it was nothing more than that.He watched his father, legs crossed tightly, reading feverishly.They share a common understanding. "We gallop before a gust of wind—we are doomed to drown," he began to murmur half aloud, exactly as his father had said it.

It seems that no one has spoken for a long time.Cam looked out to sea, tired.Pieces of black wood floated across the water, and the live fish kept in the bilge were dead.Her father was still reading, and James was looking at him, and she was looking at him, and they had sworn to die against the tyrant, and he was still reading, not at all conscious of what they were thinking.That's how he got away, she thought.Yes, he has a broad forehead and a big nose, holding the little mottled book tightly in his hand, and putting it in front of him, he fled to another world.You may try to catch him, but he is like a bird in flight, flying far beyond your reach, perched on a desolate tree stump.She gazed at the endless sea.The island they lived on had grown so small it hardly looked like a leaf anymore.It looks like the top of a rock, and a larger wave would cover it.And yet, for all its fragility, it accommodates all the paths, platforms, bedrooms—the list goes on and on.However, just like a person before falling asleep, all the scenes in front of him are simplified, so that among countless trivial things, only one has the power to express itself. Therefore, when she looked sleepily at the island, she It felt like all those walks and platforms and bedrooms had vanished and there was only a light blue censer bobbing rhythmically back and forth in her head.It is a garden hanging in the air; it is a valley full of birds, flowers, antelopes... She is asleep.

"Come on," said Mr. Ramsay, closing the book suddenly. Where are you going?Going on some extraordinary adventure?She woke up suddenly.Where to land?Where to go climbing?Where will he lead them?For he spoke suddenly after a long silence, and what he said surprised them.Yet this is absurd.He's hungry, he said.It's time for lunch.Besides, he said, "Look! There's the lighthouse. We're almost there." "He's doing pretty well," said McAllister. "He's got the helm right." But his father never praised him, James thought with disgust.

Mr. Ramsay unwrapped the paper and gave them the sandwiches.Now he was eating bread and cheese with the two fishermen and he felt very comfortable.Watching his father slice the yellow cheese with a knife, James thought maybe he would like to live in the little hut and hang out on the pier, spitting and laughing with the other old people. That's right, this is the lighthouse, Cam continued thinking as he peeled the hard-boiled egg.She felt exactly the same now as when she had watched the two old men read The Times in her study.Now I can go on thinking about whatever I like, and I won't fall off a cliff or drown in the water, she thought, because he's right here watching me.

At this moment, they were speeding around the rocks, which was very exciting - as if they were doing two things at the same time: they were eating lunch in the sun; they were struggling in the storm after a large ship sank , fled to safety.She asked herself: Is there enough fresh water in the lifeboat to sustain it?Can the food supply sustain it?She was telling herself a story, but at the same time fully aware of what was really going on. Mr. Ramsay told old Macalister that they would soon be gone, but their children would see something new.McAllister said he was seventy-five last March; Mr Ramsay is seventy-one this year.McAllister added that he had never seen a doctor or lost a tooth.That's the kind of life I want my kids to live—Cam thinks her father must have thought so, because he stopped her from throwing a sandwich into the ocean and told her that if she didn't want to eat it, she could just eat it. Put it back in the paper bag, as if he were thinking about the fishermen and their lives.He spoke so wisely, as if he knew everything that was going on in the world, so she put the bread back at once.Then he took a ginger biscuit from his paper bag and handed it to her.She thought as if he were a noble Spanish gentleman offering a flower to a lady at the window (he was so courteous).He was disheveled and ugly, and eating bread and cheese; yet he was leading them on a great expedition, and they were going to be swallowed up by the waves, though she knew it was only a fantasy.

"That's where the ship sank," said McAllister's son suddenly. Three men were drowned where we are now, said the old fisherman.He saw them clung to the mast with his own eyes.Mr. Ramsay glanced toward the spot, and James and Cam feared that he would suddenly chant aloud: If he did that, they couldn't take it, they would scream, they couldn't bear the fire that was boiling inside him again, but, to their surprise, he just said "Ah," as if he I was thinking to myself: what is there to make a fuss about?Of course people drown in storms, that's an obvious thing, and the depths of the ocean (on which he spilled bread crumbs from a paper bag) are nothing but sea water.Then he lit his pipe and took out his pocket watch.He looked at his watch intently; perhaps he was mentally counting the time.Finally he said triumphantly:

"Good job!" he praised James for steering them like a natural sailor. listen!Cam thought.She silently said to James: You are finally praised.Because she knew that was what he had dreamed of, and she knew that now that his wish had been fulfilled, he was so happy that he would not look at her or his father or anyone.He sat upright, with one hand on the tiller, looking a little sullen and frowning.He's so content, he's not going to let anyone share his joy.His father praised him.They must have thought he was completely indifferent to it.But now you've got your wish, Cam thought.

They had adjusted the sail against the head wind, and now they were sailing fast, the overwhelming waves pushed them forward, wave after wave, and the sailboat passed by the reef, the hull rhythmically and vigorously. Bumps and jumps.On the left, a row of brown crags broke out of the water, and the water became shallower and greener; on one rock, on a higher ledge, the spray kept splashing, sending little jets of water, drops like rain. The beads are generally sprayed down.You can hear the waves crashing on the shore, the water drops splashing, the sound of the waves whistling, the waves rolling in, galloping and leaping, slapping the rocks, as if they were a group of wild animals, unfettered, always rolling and playing freely like this .

Now they could see two figures watching them from the lighthouse, ready to meet them. Mr Ramsay buttoned his coat and rolled up his trousers.He picked up the big brown paper packet that Nancy had tied up for them carelessly, and laid it on his lap.So he was quite ready to go ashore, and sat looking back at the island.Perhaps his farsighted presbyopia could clearly see the shrunken leaf-like island rising above a golden plate.what can he seeCam was guessing.For her it was a complete blur.What is he thinking now?Cam wasn't sure.What is he exploring so persistently, so intently, so silently?They watched him sitting there with his head bare, the paper bag on his lap, gazing at the ethereal blue figure, like a puff of smoke from something burning.They both wanted to ask him: what do you want?They both wanted to say to him: whatever you ask us, we will give it to you.But he asked them for nothing.As he sat gazing at the island, he might be thinking, We are lost, each alone; or he might be thinking, I have arrived at last, I have found it at last.But he didn't say anything.

Then he put on his hat. "Take those paper bags," he ordered, nodding toward what Nancy had wrapped up for them to take to the lighthouse, "those paper bags for the lighthouse keeper." straight.He looked, James thought, as if he were declaring, "There is no God." As if he were leaping into the air, Cam thought, and he took the paper bag and leaped onto the rock with the brisk youthful stride of a young man, and the two of them One stood up and jumped ashore after him.