Fifty-One Tales by Lord Dunsany 1915

The Man With the Golden Ear-Rings

It may be that I dreamed this.  So much at least is certain

-- that I turned one day from the traffic of a city, and

came to its docks and saw its slimy wharves going down green

and steep into the water, and saw the huge grey river

slipping by and the lost things that went with it turning

over and over, and I thought of the nations and unpitying

Time, and saw and marvelled at the queenly ships come newly

from the sea.

   It was then, if I mistake not, that I saw leaning against

a wall, with his face to the ships, a man with golden

ear-rings.  His skin had the dark tint of the southern men:

the deep black hairs of his moustache were whitened a little

with salt; he wore a dark blue jacket such as sailors wear,

and the long boots of seafarers, but the look in his eyes

was further afield than the ships, he seemed to be beholding

the farthest things.

   Even when I spoke to him he did not call home that look,

but answered me dreamily with that same fixed stare as

though his thoughts were heaving on far and lonely seas.  I

asked him what ship he had come by, for there were many

there.  The sailing ships were there with their sails all

furled and their masts straight and still like a wintry

forest; the steamers were there, and great liners, puffing

up idle smoke into the twilight.  He answered he had come by

none of them.  I asked him what line he worked on, for he

was clearly a sailor; I mentioned well-known lines, but he

did not know them.  Then I asked him where he worked and

what he was.  And he said: "I work in the Sargasso Sea, and

I am the last of the pirates, the last left alive."  And I

shook him by the hand I do not know how many times.  I said:

"We feared you were dead.  We feared you were dead."  And he

answered sadly: "No.  No.  I have sinned too deeply on the

Spanish seas: I am not allowed to die."