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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Сердце тьмы
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- Стр. 11/33
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'
My
dear
sir
,
'
said
the
fellow
,
'
I
do
n't
want
to
be
misunderstood
,
and
especially
by
you
,
who
will
see
Mr.
Kurtz
long
before
I
can
have
that
pleasure
.
I
would
n't
like
him
to
get
a
false
idea
of
my
disposition
...
'
"
I
let
him
run
on
,
this
papier-mache
Mephistopheles
,
and
it
seemed
to
me
that
if
I
tried
I
could
poke
my
forefinger
through
him
,
and
would
find
nothing
inside
but
a
little
loose
dirt
,
maybe
.
He
,
do
n't
you
see
,
had
been
planning
to
be
assistant-manager
by
and
by
under
the
present
man
,
and
I
could
see
that
the
coming
of
that
Kurtz
had
upset
them
both
not
a
little
.
He
talked
precipitately
,
and
I
did
not
try
to
stop
him
.
I
had
my
shoulders
against
the
wreck
of
my
steamer
,
hauled
up
on
the
slope
like
a
carcass
of
some
big
river
animal
.
The
smell
of
mud
,
of
primeval
mud
,
by
Jove
!
was
in
my
nostrils
,
the
high
stillness
of
primeval
forest
was
before
my
eyes
;
there
were
shiny
patches
on
the
black
creek
.
The
moon
had
spread
over
everything
a
thin
layer
of
silver
--
over
the
rank
grass
,
over
the
mud
,
upon
the
wall
of
matted
vegetation
standing
higher
than
the
wall
of
a
temple
,
over
the
great
river
I
could
see
through
a
sombre
gap
glittering
,
glittering
,
as
it
flowed
broadly
by
without
a
murmur
.
All
this
was
great
,
expectant
,
mute
,
while
the
man
jabbered
about
himself
.
I
wondered
whether
the
stillness
on
the
face
of
the
immensity
looking
at
us
two
were
meant
as
an
appeal
or
as
a
menace
.
What
were
we
who
had
strayed
in
here
?
Could
we
handle
that
dumb
thing
,
or
would
it
handle
us
?
I
felt
how
big
,
how
confoundedly
big
,
was
that
thing
that
could
n't
talk
,
and
perhaps
was
deaf
as
well
.
What
was
in
there
?
I
could
see
a
little
ivory
coming
out
from
there
,
and
I
had
heard
Mr.
Kurtz
was
in
there
.
I
had
heard
enough
about
it
,
too
--
God
knows
!
Yet
somehow
it
did
n't
bring
any
image
with
it
--
no
more
than
if
I
had
been
told
an
angel
or
a
fiend
was
in
there
.
I
believed
it
in
the
same
way
one
of
you
might
believe
there
are
inhabitants
in
the
planet
Mars
.
I
knew
once
a
Scotch
sailmaker
who
was
certain
,
dead
sure
,
there
were
people
in
Mars
.
If
you
asked
him
for
some
idea
how
they
looked
and
behaved
,
he
would
get
shy
and
mutter
something
about
'
walking
on
all-fours
.
'
If
you
as
much
as
smiled
,
he
would
--
though
a
man
of
sixty
--
offer
to
fight
you
.
I
would
not
have
gone
so
far
as
to
fight
for
Kurtz
,
but
I
went
for
him
near
enough
to
a
lie
.
You
know
I
hate
,
detest
,
and
ca
n't
bear
a
lie
,
not
because
I
am
straighter
than
the
rest
of
us
,
but
simply
because
it
appalls
me
.
There
is
a
taint
of
death
,
a
flavour
of
mortality
in
lies
--
which
is
exactly
what
I
hate
and
detest
in
the
world
--
what
I
want
to
forget
.
It
makes
me
miserable
and
sick
,
like
biting
something
rotten
would
do
.
Temperament
,
I
suppose
.
Well
,
I
went
near
enough
to
it
by
letting
the
young
fool
there
believe
anything
he
liked
to
imagine
as
to
my
influence
in
Europe
.
I
became
in
an
instant
as
much
of
a
pretence
as
the
rest
of
the
bewitched
pilgrims
.
This
simply
because
I
had
a
notion
it
somehow
would
be
of
help
to
that
Kurtz
whom
at
the
time
I
did
not
see
--
you
understand
.
He
was
just
a
word
for
me
.
I
did
not
see
the
man
in
the
name
any
more
than
you
do
.
Do
you
see
him
?
Do
you
see
the
story
?
Do
you
see
anything
?
It
seems
to
me
I
am
trying
to
tell
you
ya
dream
--
making
a
vain
attempt
,
because
no
relation
of
a
dream
can
convey
the
dream-sensation
,
that
commingling
of
absurdity
,
surprise
,
and
bewilderment
in
a
tremor
of
struggling
revolt
,
that
notion
of
being
captured
by
the
incredible
which
is
of
the
very
essence
of
dreams
...
"
He
was
silent
for
a
while
.
"
...
No
,
it
is
impossible
;
it
is
impossible
to
convey
the
life-sensation
of
any
given
epoch
of
one
's
existence
--
that
which
makes
its
truth
,
its
meaning
--
its
subtle
and
penetrating
essence
.
It
is
impossible
.
We
live
,
as
we
dream
--
alone
...
"
He
paused
again
as
if
reflecting
,
then
added
:
"
Of
course
in
this
you
fellows
see
more
than
I
could
then
.
You
see
me
,
whom
you
know
...
"
It
had
become
so
pitch
dark
that
we
listeners
could
hardly
see
one
another
.
For
a
long
time
already
he
,
sitting
apart
,
had
been
no
more
to
us
than
a
voice
.
There
was
not
a
word
from
anybody
.
The
others
might
have
been
asleep
,
but
I
was
awake
.
I
listened
,
I
listened
on
the
watch
for
the
sentence
,
for
the
word
,
that
would
give
me
the
clue
to
the
faint
uneasiness
inspired
by
this
narrative
that
seemed
to
shape
itself
without
human
lips
in
the
heavy
night-air
of
the
river
.
"
...
