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- Джозеф Конрад
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Once
rather
proud
of
his
great
bodily
strength
,
and
even
of
his
personal
appearance
,
conscious
of
his
worth
,
and
firm
in
his
rectitude
,
there
had
remained
to
him
,
like
the
heritage
of
departed
prosperity
,
the
tranquil
bearing
of
a
man
who
had
proved
himself
fit
in
every
sort
of
way
for
the
life
of
his
choice
.
He
strode
on
squarely
under
the
projecting
brim
of
an
ancient
Panama
hat
.
It
had
a
low
crown
,
a
crease
through
its
whole
diameter
,
a
narrow
black
ribbon
.
Imperishable
and
a
little
discolored
,
this
headgear
made
it
easy
to
pick
him
out
from
afar
on
thronged
wharves
and
in
the
busy
streets
.
He
had
never
adopted
the
comparatively
modern
fashion
of
pipeclayed
cork
helmets
.
He
disliked
the
form
;
and
he
hoped
he
could
manage
to
keep
a
cool
head
to
the
end
of
his
life
without
all
these
contrivances
for
hygienic
ventilation
.
His
hair
was
cropped
close
,
his
linen
always
of
immaculate
whiteness
;
a
suit
of
thin
gray
flannel
,
worn
threadbare
but
scrupulously
brushed
,
floated
about
his
burly
limbs
,
adding
to
his
bulk
by
the
looseness
of
its
cut
.
The
years
had
mellowed
the
good-humored
,
imperturbable
audacity
of
his
prime
into
a
temper
carelessly
serene
;
and
the
leisurely
tapping
of
his
iron-shod
stick
accompanied
his
footfalls
with
a
self-confident
sound
on
the
flagstones
.
It
was
impossible
to
connect
such
a
fine
presence
and
this
unruffled
aspect
with
the
belittling
troubles
of
poverty
;
the
man
's
whole
existence
appeared
to
pass
before
you
,
facile
and
large
,
in
the
freedom
of
means
as
ample
as
the
clothing
of
his
body
.
The
irrational
dread
of
having
to
break
into
his
five
hundred
pounds
for
personal
expenses
in
the
hotel
disturbed
the
steady
poise
of
his
mind
.
There
was
no
time
to
lose
.
The
bill
was
running
up
.
He
nourished
the
hope
that
this
five
hundred
would
perhaps
be
the
means
,
if
everything
else
failed
,
of
obtaining
some
work
which
,
keeping
his
body
and
soul
together
(
not
a
matter
of
great
outlay
)
,
would
enable
him
to
be
of
use
to
his
daughter
.
To
his
mind
it
was
her
own
money
which
he
employed
,
as
it
were
,
in
backing
her
father
and
solely
for
her
benefit
.
Once
at
work
,
he
would
help
her
with
the
greater
part
of
his
earnings
;
he
was
good
for
many
years
yet
,
and
this
boarding-house
business
,
he
argued
to
himself
,
whatever
the
prospects
,
could
not
be
much
of
a
gold-mine
from
the
first
start
.
But
what
work
?
He
was
ready
to
lay
hold
of
anything
in
an
honest
way
so
that
it
came
quickly
to
his
hand
;
because
the
five
hundred
pounds
must
be
preserved
intact
for
eventual
use
.
That
was
the
great
point
.
With
the
entire
five
hundred
one
felt
a
substance
at
one
's
back
;
but
it
seemed
to
him
that
should
he
let
it
dwindle
to
four-fifty
or
even
four-eighty
,
all
the
efficiency
would
be
gone
out
of
the
money
,
as
though
there
were
some
magic
power
in
the
round
figure
.
But
what
sort
of
work
?
Confronted
by
that
haunting
question
as
by
an
uneasy
ghost
,
for
whom
he
had
no
exorcising
formula
,
Captain
Whalley
stopped
short
on
the
apex
of
a
small
bridge
spanning
steeply
the
bed
of
a
canalized
creek
with
granite
shores
.
Moored
between
the
square
blocks
a
seagoing
Malay
prau
floated
half
hidden
under
the
arch
of
masonry
,
with
her
spars
lowered
down
,
without
a
sound
of
life
on
board
,
and
covered
from
stem
to
stern
with
a
ridge
of
palm-leaf
mats
.
He
had
left
behind
him
the
overheated
pavements
bordered
by
the
stone
frontages
that
,
like
the
sheer
face
of
cliffs
,
followed
the
sweep
of
the
quays
;
and
an
unconfined
spaciousness
of
orderly
and
sylvan
aspect
opened
before
him
its
wide
plots
of
rolled
grass
,
like
pieces
of
green
carpet
smoothly
pegged
out
,
its
long
ranges
of
trees
lined
up
in
colossal
porticos
of
dark
shafts
roofed
with
a
vault
of
branches
.
Some
of
these
avenues
ended
at
the
sea
.
It
was
a
terraced
shore
;
and
beyond
,
upon
the
level
expanse
,
profound
and
glistening
like
the
gaze
of
a
dark-blue
eye
,
an
oblique
band
of
stippled
purple
lengthened
itself
indefinitely
through
the
gap
between
a
couple
of
verdant
twin
islets
.
The
masts
and
spars
of
a
few
ships
far
away
,
hull
down
in
the
outer
roads
,
sprang
straight
from
the
water
in
a
fine
maze
of
rosy
lines
penciled
on
the
clear
shadow
of
the
eastern
board
.
Captain
Whalley
gave
them
a
long
glance
.
The
ship
,
once
his
own
,
was
anchored
out
there
.
It
was
staggering
to
think
that
it
was
open
to
him
no
longer
to
take
a
boat
at
the
jetty
and
get
himself
pulled
off
to
her
when
the
evening
came
.
To
no
ship
.
Perhaps
never
more
.
Before
the
sale
was
concluded
,
and
till
the
purchase-money
had
been
paid
,
he
had
spent
daily
some
time
on
board
the
Fair
Maid
.
The
money
had
been
paid
this
very
morning
,
and
now
,
all
at
once
,
there
was
positively
no
ship
that
he
could
go
on
board
of
when
he
liked
;
no
ship
that
would
need
his
presence
in
order
to
do
her
work
--
to
live
.
It
seemed
an
incredible
state
of
affairs
,
something
too
bizarre
to
last
.
And
the
sea
was
full
of
craft
of
all
sorts
.
There
was
that
prau
lying
so
still
swathed
in
her
shroud
of
sewn
palm-leaves
--
she
too
had
her
indispensable
man
.
They
lived
through
each
other
,
this
Malay
he
had
never
seen
,
and
this
high-sterned
thing
of
no
size
that
seemed
to
be
resting
after
a
long
journey
.
And
of
all
the
ships
in
sight
,
near
and
far
,
each
was
provided
with
a
man
,
the
man
without
whom
the
finest
ship
is
a
dead
thing
,
a
floating
and
purposeless
log
.
After
his
one
glance
at
the
roadstead
he
went
on
,
since
there
was
nothing
to
turn
back
for
,
and
the
time
must
be
got
through
somehow
.
The
avenues
of
big
trees
ran
straight
over
the
Esplanade
,
cutting
each
other
at
diverse
angles
,
columnar
below
and
luxuriant
above
.
The
interlaced
boughs
high
up
there
seemed
to
slumber
;
not
a
leaf
stirred
overhead
:
and
the
reedy
cast-iron
lampposts
in
the
middle
of
the
road
,
gilt
like
scepters
,
diminished
in
a
long
perspective
,
with
their
globes
of
white
porcelain
atop
,
resembling
a
barbarous
decoration
of
ostriches
'
eggs
displayed
in
a
row
.
The
flaming
sky
kindled
a
tiny
crimson
spark
upon
the
glistening
surface
of
each
glassy
shell
.
With
his
chin
sunk
a
little
,
his
hands
behind
his
back
,
and
the
end
of
his
stick
marking
the
gravel
with
a
faint
wavering
line
at
his
heels
,
Captain
Whalley
reflected
that
if
a
ship
without
a
man
was
like
a
body
without
a
soul
,
a
sailor
without
a
ship
was
of
not
much
more
account
in
this
world
than
an
aimless
log
adrift
upon
the
sea
.
The
log
might
be
sound
enough
by
itself
,
tough
of
fiber
,
and
hard
to
destroy
--
but
what
of
that
!
And
a
sudden
sense
of
irremediable
idleness
weighted
his
feet
like
a
great
fatigue
.
A
succession
of
open
carriages
came
bowling
along
the
newly
opened
sea-road
.
You
could
see
across
the
wide
grass-plots
the
discs
of
vibration
made
by
the
spokes
.
