Noviazgo

.Soon arrived in new Bedford, with just a couple of shirts in my old bag. From there I would get a small boat over to Nantucket. This is from where the ships and barks -the big whalers - leave. I had hoped that I could make the new Bedford - Nantucket connection immediately so that I wouldn't have to wait around.
I was that keen to be out at sea ! My itchy feet and empty pockets did feel theneed to be out on deck as soon as possible. But this was not to be on that cold Saturday night in December. No boats would sail to Nantucket until Monday.
Since I was stuck in New Bedford for a couple of nights, I walked around the dark empty streets looking for somewhere to stay. I came across some comfortable-looking places but they were surely too expensive for my bare purse, do I moved on. ThenI stopped outside an old, strange-looking place called the Spouter Inn, whose title was followed by the words "Peter Coffin" - the owner, I guessed. Hmm, Spouter, Coffin. Was that a gloomy hint of the destiny that waited for me at sea? I quickly brushed such dark thoughts aside as mere superstition - probably inspired by the freezing cold of that night - and decided to go inside.
It was arundown, old and quite crooked building that leaned to one side. Built on a corner, it got the worst of that freezing, whistling December wind. I mumbled to myself.
"Oh well, better to be in than out on such a cruel night" .
So I wiped the ice from the frosted soles of my shoes onto the rough mat by the door, took a deep breath, and went in.
It reminded me at once of an old condemned ship, with itscreaking walls, dark corners and old, damo smell. A large oil painting hung to the right of the entrance, full of dark shades and shadows. I had to look at that strange painting in many different ways before I decide it was a ship on a stormy night sea. Perhaps it was a whale ready to spear itself on the broken mast of a ship in a stormy night sea.
On the opposite wall hung a cruel display ofclubs and spears and other murderous tools used in the sea trade. I shivered as I gazed at those torturous instruments.
This was all part of a dim, smoky area that led through an arched doorway. Heading further into the place, you came across rooms rented out as sleeping quarters. I looked for Mr. Coffin. He had a rough look, but he turned out to be a pleasant and helpful chap. He offered me the onlyavailable bed.
" You can have a large double room, but you'll have to share it with a harpooner".
I was not at all thrilled with this option. But after trying a bench, I swallowed my pride and decide to make an effort.
"I'm sure he doesn't bite? And better to have a strange roomamte for a couple of nights than a bad .back for the rest of my life."
Well, it was past midnight when the Southsea Islander came into the room. My roommate looked fierce? For a moment, I even conseidered that he might bite? I quietly pulled my blanket over my head and peeped out at this huge tattooed creature, When he took off his tall hat and turned my way, I noticed that even his face was decorated with bluish black marks. He held a tall black harpoon and a cloth bag. When he reached inside the bag, Iwas sure he would pull out a human head! But instead, he took out a small polished ebony statue. He placed it on a shelf above the fireplace on the opposite wall and began praying to the thing!
When he finished his player, he turned back in my direction, grabbed his harpoon and spoke in a deep threatening voice.
" Speak! Tell me who you are or..."
"Mr. Coffin, Mr Coffin!"
I howled for theowner, who came into the room laughing and making the introductions.
"Queequeg, now be polite, please!"
I sat up straight and tried to regain my sence of dignity.
"Please, tell him to put away that weapon!"
Well, it worked! Queequeg, as he was named, obeyed at once.
Then, with a polite bow, he climbed into the other bed and pulled the conves over himself. Mr Coffin left. I was safe, warm and...