Fevre Dream Page 0,91

the seat at the head of the table.

Joshua came and stood over Julian. "You are in my seat," he said. His voice seemed flat and tense. "This one is yours, sir. If you will be so kind." York gestured. His eyes were fixed on Damon Julian, and Marsh glanced up at Joshua's face and saw the power there, the cold intensity, the determination.

Damon Julian smiled. "Ah," he said softly. He shrugged slightly. "Pardon." Then, never looking up at Joshua York for even an instant, he rose and moved to the other seat.

Joshua seated himself stiffly, and made an impatient motion with his fingers. A waiter came hurrying from the shadows and deposited a bottle on the table in front of York. "Kindly leave the room," Joshua told the youth.

The bottle was unlabeled. Beneath the chandeliers, surrounded by gleaming crystal and silver, it seemed dark and threatening. It had been opened. "You know what this is," Joshua York said flatly to Damon Julian.

"Yes."

York reached out, took up Julian's wine glass, and poured. He filled the glass to the brim, and put it down again squarely in front of the other. "Drink," he ordered.

York's eyes were on Julian. Julian stared at the glass, a faint smile playing around the corners of his mouth, as if he were involved in some secret amusement. The grand saloon was utterly silent. Far off in the distance, Marsh heard the faint wail of a steamer struggling through the rain. The moment seemed to last forever.

Damon Julian reached out, took up the glass, and drank. In a single long draught, he emptied the glass, and it was as if he drank all the tension from the room. Joshua smiled, Abner Marsh grunted, and down at the far end of the table, others traded wary, puzzled glances. York poured three more glasses, and had them passed down to Julian's three companions. All of them drank. Conversations began in low whispers.

Damon Julian smiled at Abner Marsh. "Your steamer is most impressive, Captain Marsh," he said cordially. "I hope the food is as excellent."

"The food," said Marsh, "is better." He bellowed, feeling almost like his own self again, and the waiters began bringing out the feast that Toby had cooked up. For more than an hour, they ate. The night folks had fine manners, but their appetites were healthy as any riverman's. They went at the food like a bunch of roustabouts who'd just heard the mate shout, "Grub-pile!" All except Damon Julian, that was. Julian ate slowly, almost delicately, pausing often to sip at his wine, smiling frequently for no apparent reason. Marsh had cleaned off his third platter, and Julian's plate was still half-full. Conversation was relaxed and inconsequential. Those far away talked low and heatedly, so Marsh couldn't make out what they were saying. Up close, Joshua York and Damon Julian mouthed a lot of words about the storm, the heat, the river, and the Fevre Dream. Except for when they were talking about his steamer, Abner Marsh took little interest, preferring to concentrate on his plate.

Finally coffee and brandy were served, and then the waiters faded away, and the main cabin of the steamer was empty but for Abner Marsh and the night folks. Marsh sipped at his brandy and heard the noise he made sucking it up before he quite realized that all conversations had ceased. "We are together at last," Joshua said, in a quiet voice, "and this is a new beginning for us, for the people of the night. Those who live by day might call it a new dawning." He smiled. "For us, a new sunset might be a more appropriate metaphor. Listen, all of you. Let me tell you of my plans." Then Joshua rose, and began to speak in earnest.

How long he spoke Abner Marsh was not sure. Marsh had heard it all before; freedom from the red thirst, an end of fear, trust between day and night, the things that would be achieved by partnership, the grand new epoch. On and on Joshua went, eloquent, impassioned, his speech full of little snatches of poems and five-dollar words. Marsh paid more attention to the others, to the rows of pale faces all up and down the table. All of them had their eyes on Joshua, all of them were listening, silent. But they weren't all the same. Simon seemed a little jumpy, and kept glancing from York to Julian and back again. Jean Ardant looked rapt and worshipful, but some