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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Конец рабства
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- Стр. 43/95
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His
eyes
began
to
shine
.
He
insisted
.
A
simple
statement
,
--
and
he
thought
to
himself
that
he
would
manage
somehow
to
stick
in
his
berth
as
long
as
it
suited
him
.
He
would
make
himself
indispensable
;
the
ship
had
a
bad
name
in
her
port
;
it
would
be
easy
to
scare
the
fellows
off
.
Massy
would
have
to
keep
him
.
"
A
definite
statement
from
me
would
be
enough
,
"
Massy
repeated
slowly
.
"
Yes
,
sir
.
It
would
.
"
Sterne
stuck
out
his
chin
cheerily
and
blinked
at
close
quarters
with
that
unconscious
impudence
which
had
the
power
to
enrage
Massy
beyond
anything
.
The
engineer
spoke
very
distinctly
.
"
Listen
well
to
me
,
then
,
Mr.
Sterne
:
I
would
n't
--
d'ye
hear
?
--
I
would
n't
promise
you
the
value
of
two
pence
for
anything
you
can
tell
me
.
"
He
struck
Sterne
's
arm
away
with
a
smart
blow
,
and
catching
hold
of
the
handle
pulled
the
door
to
.
The
terrific
slam
darkened
the
cabin
instantaneously
to
his
eye
as
if
after
the
flash
of
an
explosion
.
At
once
he
dropped
into
the
chair
.
"
Oh
,
no
!
You
do
n't
!
"
he
whispered
faintly
.
The
ship
had
in
that
place
to
shave
the
bank
so
close
that
the
gigantic
wall
of
leaves
came
gliding
like
a
shutter
against
the
port
;
the
darkness
of
the
primeval
forest
seemed
to
flow
into
that
bare
cabin
with
the
odor
of
rotting
leaves
,
of
sodden
soil
--
the
strong
muddy
smell
of
the
living
earth
steaming
uncovered
after
the
passing
of
a
deluge
.
The
bushes
swished
loudly
alongside
;
above
there
was
a
series
of
crackling
sounds
,
with
a
sharp
rain
of
small
broken
branches
falling
on
the
bridge
;
a
creeper
with
a
great
rustle
snapped
on
the
head
of
a
boat
davit
,
and
a
long
,
luxuriant
green
twig
actually
whipped
in
and
out
of
the
open
port
,
leaving
behind
a
few
torn
leaves
that
remained
suddenly
at
rest
on
Mr.
Massy
's
blanket
.
Then
,
the
ship
sheering
out
in
the
stream
,
the
light
began
to
return
but
did
not
augment
beyond
a
subdued
clearness
:
for
the
sun
was
very
low
already
,
and
the
river
,
wending
its
sinuous
course
through
a
multitude
of
secular
trees
as
if
at
the
bottom
of
a
precipitous
gorge
,
had
been
already
invaded
by
a
deepening
gloom
--
the
swift
precursor
of
the
night
.
"
Oh
,
no
,
you
do
n't
!
"
murmured
the
engineer
again
.
His
lips
trembled
almost
imperceptibly
;
his
hands
too
,
a
little
:
and
to
calm
himself
he
opened
the
writing-desk
,
spread
out
a
sheet
of
thin
grayish
paper
covered
with
a
mass
of
printed
figures
and
began
to
scan
them
attentively
for
the
twentieth
time
this
trip
at
least
.
With
his
elbows
propped
,
his
head
between
his
hands
,
he
seemed
to
lose
himself
in
the
study
of
an
abstruse
problem
in
mathematics
.
It
was
the
list
of
the
winning
numbers
from
the
last
drawing
of
the
great
lottery
which
had
been
the
one
inspiring
fact
of
so
many
years
of
his
existence
.
The
conception
of
a
life
deprived
of
that
periodical
sheet
of
paper
had
slipped
away
from
him
entirely
,
as
another
man
,
according
to
his
nature
,
would
not
have
been
able
to
conceive
a
world
without
fresh
air
,
without
activity
,
or
without
affection
.
A
great
pile
of
flimsy
sheets
had
been
growing
for
years
in
his
desk
,
while
the
Sofala
,
driven
by
the
faithful
Jack
,
wore
out
her
boilers
in
tramping
up
and
down
the
Straits
,
from
cape
to
cape
,
from
river
to
river
,
from
bay
to
bay
;
accumulating
by
that
hard
labor
of
an
overworked
,
starved
ship
the
blackened
mass
of
these
documents
.
Massy
kept
them
under
lock
and
key
like
a
treasure
.
There
was
in
them
,
as
in
the
experience
of
life
,
the
fascination
of
hope
,
the
excitement
of
a
half-penetrated
mystery
,
the
longing
of
a
half-satisfied
desire
.
