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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Конец рабства
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- Стр. 18/95
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This
time
the
Chinaman
made
out
that
bizarre
sound
,
and
grunted
his
assent
uncouthly
,
low
down
in
his
bare
throat
.
With
the
first
yellow
twinkle
of
a
star
that
appeared
like
the
head
of
a
pin
stabbed
deep
into
the
smooth
,
pale
,
shimmering
fabric
of
the
sky
,
the
edge
of
a
keen
chill
seemed
to
cleave
through
the
warm
air
of
the
earth
.
At
the
moment
of
stepping
into
the
sampan
to
go
and
try
for
the
command
of
the
Sofala
Captain
Whalley
shivered
a
little
.
When
on
his
return
he
landed
on
the
quay
again
Venus
,
like
a
choice
jewel
set
low
on
the
hem
of
the
sky
,
cast
a
faint
gold
trail
behind
him
upon
the
roadstead
,
as
level
as
a
floor
made
of
one
dark
and
polished
stone
.
The
lofty
vaults
of
the
avenues
were
black
--
all
black
overhead
--
and
the
porcelain
globes
on
the
lamp-posts
resembled
egg-shaped
pearls
,
gigantic
and
luminous
,
displayed
in
a
row
whose
farther
end
seemed
to
sink
in
the
distance
,
down
to
the
level
of
his
knees
.
He
put
his
hands
behind
his
back
.
He
would
now
consider
calmly
the
discretion
of
it
before
saying
the
final
word
to-morrow
.
His
feet
scrunched
the
gravel
loudly
--
the
discretion
of
it
.
It
would
have
been
easier
to
appraise
had
there
been
a
workable
alternative
.
The
honesty
of
it
was
indubitable
:
he
meant
well
by
the
fellow
;
and
periodically
his
shadow
leaped
up
intense
by
his
side
on
the
trunks
of
the
trees
,
to
lengthen
itself
,
oblique
and
dim
,
far
over
the
grass
--
repeating
his
stride
.
The
discretion
of
it
.
Was
there
a
choice
?
He
seemed
already
to
have
lost
something
of
himself
;
to
have
given
up
to
a
hungry
specter
something
of
his
truth
and
dignity
in
order
to
live
.
But
his
life
was
necessary
.
Let
poverty
do
its
worst
in
exacting
its
toll
of
humiliation
.
It
was
certain
that
Ned
Eliott
had
rendered
him
,
without
knowing
it
,
a
service
for
which
it
would
have
been
impossible
to
ask
.
He
hoped
Ned
would
not
think
there
had
been
something
underhand
in
his
action
.
He
supposed
that
now
when
he
heard
of
it
he
would
understand
--
or
perhaps
he
would
only
think
Whalley
an
eccentric
old
fool
.
What
would
have
been
the
good
of
telling
him
--
any
more
than
of
blurting
the
whole
tale
to
that
man
Massy
?
Five
hundred
pounds
ready
to
invest
.
Let
him
make
the
best
of
that
.
Let
him
wonder
.
You
want
a
captain
--
I
want
a
ship
.
That
's
enough
.
B-r-r-r-r
.
What
a
disagreeable
impression
that
empty
,
dark
,
echoing
steamer
had
made
upon
him
...
A
laid-up
steamer
was
a
dead
thing
and
no
mistake
;
a
sailing-ship
somehow
seems
always
ready
to
spring
into
life
with
the
breath
of
the
incorruptible
heaven
;
but
a
steamer
,
thought
Captain
Whalley
,
with
her
fires
out
,
without
the
warm
whiffs
from
below
meeting
you
on
her
decks
,
without
the
hiss
of
steam
,
the
clangs
of
iron
in
her
breast
--
lies
there
as
cold
and
still
and
pulseless
as
a
corpse
.
In
the
solitude
of
the
avenue
,
all
black
above
and
lighted
below
,
Captain
Whalley
,
considering
the
discretion
of
his
course
,
met
,
as
it
were
incidentally
,
the
thought
of
death
.
He
pushed
it
aside
with
dislike
and
contempt
.
He
almost
laughed
at
it
;
and
in
the
unquenchable
vitality
of
his
age
only
thought
with
a
kind
of
exultation
how
little
he
needed
to
keep
body
and
soul
together
.
Not
a
bad
investment
for
the
poor
woman
this
solid
carcass
of
her
father
.
And
for
the
rest
--
in
case
of
anything
--
the
agreement
should
be
clear
:
the
whole
five
hundred
to
be
paid
back
to
her
integrally
within
three
months
.
Integrally
.
Every
penny
.
He
was
not
to
lose
any
of
her
money
whatever
else
had
to
go
--
a
little
dignity
--
some
of
his
self-respect
.
He
had
never
before
allowed
anybody
to
remain
under
any
sort
of
false
impression
as
to
himself
.
Well
,
let
that
go
--
for
her
sake
.
After
all
,
he
had
never
said
anything
misleading
--
and
Captain
Whalley
felt
himself
corrupt
to
the
marrow
of
his
bones
.
He
laughed
a
little
with
the
intimate
scorn
of
his
worldly
prudence
.
Clearly
,
with
a
fellow
of
that
sort
,
and
in
the
peculiar
relation
they
were
to
stand
to
each
other
,
it
would
not
have
done
to
blurt
out
everything
.
He
did
not
like
the
fellow
.
He
did
not
like
his
spells
of
fawning
loquacity
and
bursts
of
resentfulness
.
In
the
end
--
a
poor
devil
.
He
would
not
have
liked
to
stand
in
his
shoes
.
Men
were
not
evil
,
after
all
.
He
did
not
like
his
sleek
hair
,
his
queer
way
of
standing
at
right
angles
,
with
his
nose
in
the
air
,
and
glancing
along
his
shoulder
at
you
.
No
.
On
the
whole
,
men
were
not
bad
--
they
were
only
silly
or
unhappy
.
Captain
Whalley
had
finished
considering
the
discretion
of
that
step
--
and
there
was
the
whole
long
night
before
him
.
In
the
full
light
his
long
beard
would
glisten
like
a
silver
breastplate
covering
his
heart
;
in
the
spaces
between
the
lamps
his
burly
figure
passed
less
distinct
,
loomed
very
big
,
wandering
,
and
mysterious
.
No
;
there
was
not
much
real
harm
in
men
:
and
all
the
time
a
shadow
marched
with
him
,
slanting
on
his
left
hand
--
which
in
the
East
is
a
presage
of
evil
.
.
