He stopped to dinner that evening, and, much to Ruth's satisfaction, made a favorable impression on her father. They talked about the sea as a career, a subject which Martin had at his finger-ends, and Mr. Morse remarked afterward that he seemed a very clear-headed young man. In his avoidance of slang and his search after right words, Martin was compelled to talk slowly, which enabled him to find the best thoughts that were in him. He was more at ease than that first night at dinner, nearly a year before, and his shyness and modesty even commended him to Mrs. Morse, who was pleased at his manifest improvement.
"He is the first man that ever drew passing notice from Ruth," she told her husband. "She has been so singularly backward where men are concerned that I have been worried greatly."
Mr. Morse looked at his wife curiously.
"You mean to use this young sailor to wake her up?" he questioned.
"I mean that she is not to die an old maid if I can help it," was the answer. "If this young Eden can arouse her interest in mankind in general, it will be a good thing."
"A very good thing," he commented. "But suppose, - and we must suppose, sometimes, my dear, - suppose he arouses her interest too particularly in him?"
"Impossible," Mrs. Morse laughed. "She is three years older than he, and, besides, it is impossible. Nothing will ever come of it. Trust that to me."
And so Martin's role was arranged for him, while he, led on by Arthur and Norman, was meditating an extravagance. They were going out for a ride into the hills Sunday morning on their wheels, which did not interest Martin until he learned that Ruth, too, rode a wheel and was going along. He did not ride, nor own a wheel, but if Ruth rode, it was up to him to begin, was his decision; and when he said good night, he stopped in at a cyclery on his way home and spent forty dollars for a wheel. It was more than a month's hard- earned wages, and it reduced his stock of money amazingly; but when he added the hundred dollars he was to receive from the EXAMINER to the four hundred and twenty dollars that was the least THE YOUTH'S COMPANION could pay him, he felt that he had reduced the perplexity the unwonted amount of money had caused him. Nor did he mind, in the course of learning to ride the wheel home, the fact that he ruined his suit of clothes. He caught the tailor by telephone that night from Mr. Higginbotham's store and ordered another suit. Then he carried the wheel up the narrow stairway that clung like a fire- escape to the rear wall of the building, and when he had moved his bed out from the wall, found there was just space enough in the small room for himself and the wheel.
Sunday he had intended to devote to studying for the high school examination, but the pearl-diving article lured him away, and he spent the day in the white-hot fever of re-creating the beauty and romance that burned in him. The fact that the EXAMINER of that morning had failed to publish his treasure-hunting article did not dash his spirits. He was at too great a height for that, and having been deaf to a twice-repeated summons, he went without the heavy Sunday dinner with which Mr. Higginbotham invariably graced his table. To Mr. Higginbotham such a dinner was advertisement of his worldly achievement and prosperity, and he honored it by delivering platitudinous sermonettes upon American institutions and the opportunity said institutions gave to any hard-working man to rise - the rise, in his case, which he pointed out unfailingly, being from a grocer's clerk to the ownership of Higginbotham's Cash Store.
Martin Eden looked with a sigh at his unfinished "Pearl-diving" on Monday morning, and took the car down to Oakland to the high school. And when, days later, he applied for the results of his examinations, he learned that he had failed in everything save grammar.
"Your grammar is excellent," Professor Hilton informed him, staring at him through heavy spectacles; "but you know nothing, positively nothing, in the other branches, and your United States history is abominable - there is no other word for it, abominable. I should advise you - "
Professor Hilton paused and glared at him, unsympathetic and unimaginative as one of his own test-tubes. He was professor of physics in the high school, possessor of a large family, a meagre salary, and a select fund of parrot-learned knowledge.
"Yes, sir," Martin said humbly, wishing somehow that the man at the desk in the library was in Professor Hilton's place just then.
"And I should advise you to go back to the grammar school for at least two years. Good day."
Martin was not deeply affected by his failure, though he was surprised at Ruth's shocked expression when he told her Professor Hilton's advice. Her disappointment was so evident that he was sorry he had failed, but chiefly so for her sake.
"You see I was right," she said. "You know far more than any of the students entering high school, and yet you can't pass the examinations. It is because what education you have is fragmentary, sketchy. You need the discipline of study, such as only skilled teachers can give you. You must be thoroughly grounded. Professor Hilton is right, and if I were you, I'd go to night school. A year and a half of it might enable you to catch up that additional six months. Besides, that would leave you your days in which to write, or, if you could not make your living by your pen, you would have your days in which to work in some position."
But if my days are taken up with work and my nights with school, when am I going to see you? - was Martin's first thought, though he refrained from uttering it. Instead, he said:-
"It seems so babyish for me to be going to night school. But I wouldn't mind that if I thought it would pay. But I don't think it will pay. I can do the work quicker than they can teach me. It would be a loss of time - " he thought of her and his desire to have her - "and I can't afford the time. I haven't the time to spare, in fact."
"There is so much that is necessary." She looked at him gently, and he was a brute to oppose her. "Physics and chemistry - you can't do them without laboratory study; and you'll find algebra and geometry almost hopeless with instruction. You need the skilled teachers, the specialists in the art of imparting knowledge."
He was silent for a minute, casting about for the least vainglorious way in which to express himself.
"Please don't think I'm bragging," he began. "I don't intend it that way at all. But I have a feeling that I am what I may call a natural student. I can study by myself. I take to it kindly, like a duck to water. You see yourself what I did with grammar. And I've learned much of other things - you would never dream how much. And I'm only getting started. Wait till I get - " He hesitated and assured himself of the pronunciation before he said "momentum. I'm getting my first real feel of things now. I'm beginning to size up the situation - "
"Please don't say 'size up,'" she interrupted.
"To get a line on things," he hastily amended.
"That doesn't mean anything in correct English," she objected.
He floundered for a fresh start.
"What I'm driving at is that I'm beginning to get the lay of the land."
Out of pity she forebore, and he went on.
"Knowledge seems to me like a chart-room. Whenever I go into the library, I am impressed that way. The part played by teachers is to teach the student the contents of the chart-room in a systematic way. The teachers are guides to the chart-room, that's all. It's not something that they have in their own heads. They don't make it up, don't create it. It's all in the chart-room and they know their way about in it, and it's their business to show the place to strangers who might else get lost. Now I don't get lost easily. I have the bump of location. I usually know where I'm at - What's wrong now?"
"Don't say 'where I'm at.'"
"That's right," he said gratefully, "where I am. But where am I at - I mean, where am I? Oh, yes, in the chart-room. Well, some people - "
"Persons," she corrected.
"Some persons need guides, most persons do; but I think I can get along without them. I've spent a lot of time in the chart-room now, and I'm on the edge of knowing my way about, what charts I want to refer to, what coasts I want to explore. And from the way I line it up, I'll explore a whole lot more quickly by myself. The speed of a fleet, you know, is the speed of the slowest ship, and the speed of the teachers is affected the same way. They can't go any faster than the ruck of their scholars, and I can set a faster pace for myself than they set for a whole schoolroom."
"'He travels the fastest who travels alone,'" she quoted at him.
But I'd travel faster with you just the same, was what he wanted to blurt out, as he caught a vision of a world without end of sunlit spaces and starry voids through which he drifted with her, his arm around her, her pale gold hair blowing about his face. In the same instant he was aware of the pitiful inadequacy of speech. God! If he could so frame words that she could see what he then saw! And he felt the stir in him, like a throe of yearning pain, of the desire to paint these visions that flashed unsummoned on the mirror of his mind. Ah, that was it! He caught at the hem of the secret. It was the very thing that the great writers and master-poets did. That was why they were giants. They knew how to express what they thought, and felt, and saw. Dogs asleep in the sun often whined and barked, but they were unable to tell what they saw that made them whine and bark. He had often wondered what it was. And that was all he was, a dog asleep in the sun. He saw noble and beautiful visions, but he could only whine and bark at Ruth. But he would cease sleeping in the sun. He would stand up, with open eyes, and he would struggle and toil and learn until, with eyes unblinded and tongue untied, he could share with her his visioned wealth. Other men had discovered the trick of expression, of making words obedient servitors, and of making combinations of words mean more than the sum of their separate meanings. He was stirred profoundly by the passing glimpse at the secret, and he was again caught up in the vision of sunlit spaces and starry voids - until it came to him that it was very quiet, and he saw Ruth regarding him with an amused expression and a smile in her eyes.
"I have had a great visioning," he said, and at the sound of his words in his own ears his heart gave a leap. Where had those words come from? They had adequately expressed the pause his vision had put in the conversation. It was a miracle. Never had he so loftily framed a lofty thought. But never had he attempted to frame lofty thoughts in words. That was it. That explained it. He had never tried. But Swinburne had, and Tennyson, and Kipling, and all the other poets. His mind flashed on to his "Pearl- diving." He had never dared the big things, the spirit of the beauty that was a fire in him. That article would be a different thing when he was done with it. He was appalled by the vastness of the beauty that rightfully belonged in it, and again his mind flashed and dared, and he demanded of himself why he could not chant that beauty in noble verse as the great poets did. And there was all the mysterious delight and spiritual wonder of his love for Ruth. Why could he not chant that, too, as the poets did? They had sung of love. So would he. By God! -
And in his frightened ears he heard his exclamation echoing. Carried away, he had breathed it aloud. The blood surged into his face, wave upon wave, mastering the bronze of it till the blush of shame flaunted itself from collar-rim to the roots of his hair.
"I - I - beg your pardon," he stammered. "I was thinking."
"It sounded as if you were praying," she said bravely, but she felt herself inside to be withering and shrinking. It was the first time she had heard an oath from the lips of a man she knew, and she was shocked, not merely as a matter of principle and training, but shocked in spirit by this rough blast of life in the garden of her sheltered maidenhood.
But she forgave, and with surprise at the ease of her forgiveness. Somehow it was not so difficult to forgive him anything. He had not had a chance to be as other men, and he was trying so hard, and succeeding, too. It never entered her head that there could be any other reason for her being kindly disposed toward him. She was tenderly disposed toward him, but she did not know it. She had no way of knowing it. The placid poise of twenty-four years without a single love affair did not fit her with a keen perception of her own feelings, and she who had never warmed to actual love was unaware that she was warming now.
那天晚上他留下来吃了晚饭，给露丝的父亲留下了良好的印象，露丝很为满意。他们谈海洋事业，这是马丁了如指掌的话题。事后莫尔斯先生说他似乎是个有头脑的青年。由于回避土精俗语和寻找恰当的字眼，马丁说话放慢了速度，这能使他便于找到心中最好的想法。他比大约在一年前的晚餐席上轻松多了。他的腼腆和谦恭甚至博得了莫尔斯太太的好感。她见了他明显的进步很为高兴。
“他是第一个引起露丝偶然注意的男人，”她告诉她的丈夫，“在男性问题上她落后得出奇，我为她非常担心呢。”
莫尔斯先生惊异地望着妻子。
“你打算用这个年青水手去唤醒她么？”他问。
“我是说我只要有法可想是决不会让她当一辈子老姑娘的，”她回答。“若是这年青的伊登能唤醒她对男性的普遍兴趣，倒是件好事、”
“是件大好事，”父亲发表意见，“但是假定——有时我们不能不假定，亲爱的——假定她竟对他请有独钟呢？”
“不可能，”莫尔斯太太笑了，“她比他大三岁，而且也办不到，不会出问题的，相信我好了。”
马丁所要扮演的角色就这样内定了下来。而此时他在亚瑟和诺尔曼的诱导下正在考虑一桩特别花钱的事。他们要到小山区去作自行车旅游。马丁对此原不感兴趣，但他却听说露丝匕会骑自行车，也要去，便同意了。他不会骑自行车，也没有车，但既然露丝要骑他就决定自己非骑不可。晚上分手以后他便在回家的路上进了一家自行车行，买了一部自行车，花了四十块钱。那数目超过了他一个月的辛苦钱，严重地缩减了他的储蓄。但是在他把《检验者》要给他的一百元加在《青年伙伴》至少要给他的四百二十元以上后便感到这笔不寻常的开支所带来的烦恼减轻了。在他学着骑车回家的路上衣服又给撕破了，他也满不在乎。那天晚上他从希金波坦先生店奖给裁缝打了个电话，另行定做了一套。然后他便把自行车扛上了紧贴房屋后壁乍得像太平梯一样的楼梯，再把自己的床从墙边柳开，便发现那小屋只装得下他和自行车了。
星期天他原打算用来准备中学入学考试的，但那篇潜水采珠的故事引开了他的兴趣。他用了一整天工夫狂热地重视了那叫他燃烧的美和浪漫。《检验者》那天早上没有刊载他的探宝故事，可那并没有叫他泄气。他此时居高临下，是不会泄气的、希金波坦先生两次叫他去参加星期天晚上的聚餐，他都没去。希金波坦先生家星期天总要加点好菜。这顿饭是他事业有成繁荣兴旺的广告。在席上他总要发表一篇老套的说教，夸赞美国的制度和它能给一切肯吃苦的人上进的机会。他总要指出，他就是从一个杂货店店员上升为希金波坦现金商店的老板的。
星期一早上马丁·伊登望着还没写完的潜水采珠的故事。叹了一口气，坐车到了奥克兰的中学。几天之后他去看考试成绩，发现地除了语法之外每门课都没有及格。
“你的语法优秀，”希尔顿老师隔着厚厚的镜片盯着他，对他说，“但别的功课却一无所知，确实是一无所知。你的美国史简直糟糕透了——没有别的词形容，就是糟糕透了。我劝你——”
希尔顿老师停了停，瞪着地，缺乏同情和想像力，跟他的试管一样。他是中学的物理老师，养着一大家人，薪水微薄，有一肚子精挑细选的人云亦云的知识。
“是，先生，”马丁乖乖地说，希望那时处于希尔顿老师地位的是图书馆询问台的那个人。
“我建议你回小学去至少读两年。日安。”
马丁对考试失败并不大在乎，但他告诉露丝希尔顿老师的建议时露丝那震惊的表情却叫他大吃了一惊。她的失望非常明显。他感到抱歉，但主要是因为她。
“你看，我说对了，”她说，“你比读中学的学生知识丰富多了，可你就是考不及格，那是因为你的教育是零碎的、粗疏的。你需要训练，那是只有熟练教师才能做的事。你必须有全面的基础。希尔顿老师是对的，我要是你，我就去上夜校。一年半的夜校就可以让你赶上去，可以少读六个月，而且能给你时间写作。即使不能靠写作为生，也可以找白天干的活儿。”
可是我若是白天干活儿，晚上上夜校，哪有时间来看你呢？——这是马丁的第一个念头。但他忍住了没讲。他说：
“让我上夜校，太像小孩儿了。但只要我认为有用我也不在乎。但是我并不认为有用。我可以学得比他们教得快。夜校只是浪费时间而已——”他想到了她，想到自己还要获得她——“而且我也没有时间。实际上我挤不出时间。”
“你必须学习的东西太多，”她那样温和地望着他，使他觉得若是再反对就成了禽兽。“物理和化学——没有实验课你是学不会的，你还会发现代数和几何若是不听课也学不会，你需要的是熟练的教师，传授知识的专家。”
他沉默了一会儿，想找到个最不虚荣的方式表达自己的意思。
“请不要以为我在吹牛，”他开始说，“我一点没有吹牛的意思。但是我有一种感觉，我是那种可以称作天生的自学者的人。我可以自学。我天生好学，像鸭子喜欢水一样。我学语法的情况件是看见的。我还学过许多别的东西——你做梦也想不到我学了多少。而我不过才开始。只要等我积聚起——”他犹豫了一下，确信自己没用错词才说，‘”积聚起势头，我现在才真正有了点感觉。我正开始估算形势——”
“请不要用‘估算’，”她插嘴道。
“摸索形势，”他赶紧改正。
“在正确英语回这话也不通，”她批评。
他挣扎着另谋出路。
“我的意思是我正开始琢磨情况。”
出于同情她容忍了。他说了下去。
“在我看来知识仿佛就是一门海图室。我每次去图书馆都产生这种印象。老师的任务就是把它系统地教给学生，他将图室的指导，如此而已。海图室并不是老师脑子担的东西，老师并没有造出海图室，海图室不是他的作品。海图都在海图室，他们知道怎样利用海图，他们的工作就是向陌生人指出图上的方位以免别人迷航。而我却是不容易迷航的。我有方向感，总知道自己在什么地方——又出了什么问题了。”
“Where后面不要再用at。”
“对，”他感谢地说，“不用at。我说到哪儿了？啊是的，说到海图图。唔，有的人是需要指导的，大部分人都需要。但我认为我不要指导照样可以工作。我现在已在海图室工作了很久，差不多学会了该看什么图，找哪个海岸了。我琢磨我若是自己摸索进步要快得多，你要知道，舰队的速度就是它最慢的船只的速度，教师的进度也受到同样的影响，不能比差生快。我给自己规定可以比老师为全班学生规定的速度快。”
“独行最速，”她为他引用了一句成语。
有一句话他几乎脱口而出：我跟你一起照样能快。一个幻觉在他眼前出现：一片无边无际的天空，这里阳光明媚，那里星光灿烂，他跟她一起飞翔，他的手臂搂住她，她淡金色的头发拂着他的面颊。可这时却感到了他那蹩脚的语言的隔阂。上帝呀！要是他能自由自在地运用语言，让她看到他看到的东西就好了！他感到一阵激动；要为她把自己内心的明镜上自然呈现的幻影描述出来，那是一种痛苦的渴望。啊，原来如此！他隐隐约约领悟到了那奥秘。那正是大文豪大诗人的本领所在，他们之所以伟大的道理。他们懂得怎样把自己所想到的、感觉到的和见到的表现出来。在阳光中睡觉的狗常要呜咽或吠叫几声，但狗说不出自己看到的那使它呜咽的东西。他常常猜测狗看见了什么。而他自己就是只在阳光奖睡觉的狗。他看到了高雅美丽的幻影，却只有对着露丝呜咽吠叫。他得要停止在阳光军睡觉。他要睁开眼睛，站起身来，要奋斗、要工作、要学习，直到眼前没有了蔽障，舌尖没有了挂碍，能够把他丰富的幻觉与露丝共享。别的人已找到了表达的窍门，能让词语得心应手，让同语的组合表达出比单词意义相加丰富得多的意思。对这奥秘的短短的一瞥给了他深沉的鼓舞，他再度看到了阳光明媚星光灿烂的空间的幻影——他忽然发现没有声音了，他看见露丝眼含微笑，饶有兴味地观察看他。
“我刚才看到了一个了不起的幻影，”他说，听见自己的话语声他的心猛地跳了一下。他用的词是从哪儿来的？他的话为幻影所导致的停顿作了恰如其分的说明。直是奇迹。他从没有像这样把一个崇高的思想崇高地表达出来过。根本没有想到过问题的症结正在这里，解决的办法也在这里，他从没有试过。但是史文朋试过，吉卜林和所有的诗人都试过。他的心闪向了他的《潜水采珠》，他从没有敢于尝试伟大的东西，去表现那燃烧在他心底的美丽的神韵。若是把它写了出来，一定会与众不同的。那故事应有的美的广阔浩瀚令他畏惧。他的心再一次闪亮，再一次鼓起勇气，他问自己，为什么就不能像伟大的诗人们那样用高雅的诗篇歌唱那全部的美？还有他对腐丝的爱情造成的神秘的欢乐与精神的奇迹，他为什么不能像诗人们一样歌颂它？他们歌唱过爱情，那么他也要歌唱爱情。啊，上帝作证！——这声惊叹反响到他月出，不禁叫他吓了一跳。他一时忘情，竟然叫出了声！血液一阵阵冲向他的面颊，压倒了额上的青铜色，羞赧的红晕从硬须留一直涌到发报。
“我——我——我很抱歉，”他结巴地说，“我刚才显在思考。”
“听起来你好像在作祷告呢，”她鼓起勇气说，心经却不禁世了气，感到难受。从她所认识的男人嘴里听见亵线的活，这在她还是第一次。她很吃惊，不但因为那是个原则和教养时问题，而己因为她的精神在她受到庇护的处文苑圃里受到了生活里的狂风的吹打，感到了震撼。
但是她却原谅了他，原谅得很轻松，她自己也感到意外。不知怎么，原谅他的任何过失都并不困难。他不像别人那么幸运，却十计肯干，而且有成绩。她从来没有想到自己对他的好感还会有别的理由。她对他怀着温柔的情绪自己却不知道，也无法知道。她二十四岁了，一向平静稳重，从没恋爱过，可这并没有使她对自己的感情敏锐起来。这位从未因真正的爱情而动心的姑娘并没意识到她已怦然心动。
