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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Стр. 29/33
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True
,
he
had
made
that
last
stride
,
he
had
stepped
over
the
edge
,
while
I
had
been
permitted
to
draw
back
my
hesitating
foot
.
And
perhaps
in
this
is
the
whole
difference
;
perhaps
all
the
wisdom
,
and
all
truth
,
and
all
sincerity
,
are
just
compressed
into
that
inappreciable
moment
of
time
in
which
we
step
over
the
threshold
of
the
invisible
.
Perhaps
!
I
like
to
think
my
summing-up
would
not
have
been
a
word
of
careless
contempt
.
Better
his
cry
--
much
better
.
It
was
an
affirmation
,
a
moral
victory
paid
for
by
innumerable
defeats
,
by
abominable
terrors
,
by
abominable
satisfactions
.
But
it
was
a
victory
!
That
is
why
I
have
remained
loyal
to
Kurtz
to
the
last
,
and
even
beyond
,
when
a
long
time
after
I
heard
once
more
,
not
his
own
voice
,
but
the
echo
of
his
magnificent
eloquence
thrown
to
me
from
a
soul
as
translucently
pure
as
a
cliff
of
crystal
.
"
No
,
they
did
not
bury
me
,
though
there
is
a
period
of
time
which
I
remember
mistily
,
with
a
shuddering
wonder
,
like
a
passage
through
some
inconceivable
world
that
had
no
hope
in
it
and
no
desire
.
I
found
myself
back
in
the
sepulchral
city
resenting
the
sight
of
people
hurrying
through
the
streets
to
filch
a
little
money
from
each
other
,
to
devour
their
infamous
cookery
,
to
gulp
their
unwholesome
beer
,
to
dream
their
insignificant
and
silly
dreams
.
They
trespassed
upon
my
thoughts
.
They
were
intruders
whose
knowledge
of
life
was
to
me
an
irritating
pretence
,
because
I
felt
so
sure
they
could
not
possibly
know
the
things
I
knew
.
Their
bearing
,
which
was
simply
the
bearing
of
commonplace
individuals
going
about
their
business
in
the
assurance
of
perfect
safety
,
was
offensive
to
me
like
the
outrageous
flauntings
of
folly
in
the
face
of
a
danger
it
is
unable
to
comprehend
.
I
had
no
particular
desire
to
enlighten
them
,
but
I
had
some
difficulty
in
restraining
myself
from
laughing
in
their
faces
so
full
of
stupid
importance
.
I
dareway
I
was
not
very
well
at
that
time
.
I
tottered
about
the
streets
--
there
were
various
affairs
to
settle
--
grinning
bitterly
at
perfectly
respectable
persons
.
I
admit
my
behaviour
was
inexcusable
,
but
then
my
temperature
was
seldom
normal
in
these
days
.
My
dear
aunt
's
endeavours
to
'
nurse
up
my
strength
'
seemed
altogether
beside
the
mark
.
It
was
not
my
strength
that
wanted
nursing
,
it
was
my
imagination
that
wanted
soothing
.
I
kept
the
bundle
of
papers
given
me
by
Kurtz
,
not
knowing
exactly
what
to
do
with
it
.
His
mother
had
died
lately
,
watched
over
,
as
I
was
told
,
by
his
Intended
.
A
clean-shaved
man
,
with
an
official
manner
and
wearing
gold-rimmed
spectacles
,
called
on
me
one
day
and
made
inquiries
,
at
first
circuitous
,
afterwards
suavely
pressing
,
about
what
he
was
pleased
to
denominate
certain
'
documents
.
'
I
was
not
surprised
,
because
I
had
had
two
rows
with
the
manager
on
the
subject
out
there
.
I
had
refused
to
give
up
the
smallest
scrap
out
of
that
package
,
and
I
took
the
same
attitude
with
the
spectacled
man
.
He
became
darkly
menacing
at
last
,
and
with
much
heat
argued
that
the
Company
had
the
right
to
every
bit
of
information
about
its
'
territories
.
'
And
said
he
,
'
Mr.
Kurtz
's
knowledge
of
unexplored
regions
must
have
been
necessarily
extensive
and
peculiar
--
owing
to
his
great
abilities
and
to
the
deplorable
circumstances
in
which
he
had
been
placed
:
therefore
--
'
I
assured
him
Mr.
Kurtz
's
knowledge
,
however
extensive
,
did
not
bear
upon
the
problems
of
commerce
or
administration
.
He
invoked
then
the
name
of
science
.
'
It
would
be
an
incalculable
loss
if
,
'
etc.
,
etc.
.
I
offered
him
the
report
on
the
'
Suppression
of
Savage
Customs
,
'
with
the
postscriptum
torn
off
.
He
took
it
up
eagerly
,
but
ended
by
sniffing
at
it
with
an
air
of
contempt
.
'
This
is
not
what
we
had
a
right
to
expect
,
'
he
remarked
.
'
Expect
nothing
else
,
'
I
said
.
'
There
are
only
private
letters
.
'
He
withdrew
upon
some
threat
of
legal
proceedings
,
and
I
saw
him
no
more
;
but
another
fellow
,
calling
himself
Kurtz
's
cousin
,
appeared
two
days
later
,
and
was
anxious
to
hear
all
the
details
about
his
dear
relative
's
last
moments
.
Incidentally
he
gave
me
to
understand
that
Kurtz
had
been
essentially
a
great
musician
.
'
There
was
the
making
of
an
immense
success
,
'
said
the
man
,
who
was
an
organist
,
I
believe
,
with
lank
grey
hair
flowing
over
a
greasy
coat-collar
.
I
had
no
reason
to
doubt
his
statement
;
and
to
this
day
I
am
unable
to
say
what
was
Kurtz
's
profession
,
whether
he
ever
had
any
--
which
was
the
greatest
of
his
talents
.
I
had
taken
him
for
a
painter
who
wrote
for
the
papers
,
or
else
for
a
journalist
who
could
paint
--
but
even
the
cousin
(
who
took
snuff
during
the
interview
)
could
not
tell
me
what
he
had
been
--
exactly
.
He
was
a
universal
genius
--
on
that
point
I
agreed
with
the
old
chap
,
who
thereupon
blew
his
nose
noisily
into
a
large
cotton
handkerchief
and
withdrew
in
senile
agitation
,
bearing
off
some
family
letters
and
memoranda
without
importance
.
Ultimately
a
journalist
anxious
to
know
something
of
the
fate
of
his
'
dear
colleague
'
turned
up
.
This
visitor
informed
me
Kurtz
's
proper
sphere
ought
to
have
been
politics
'
on
the
popular
side
.
'
He
had
furry
straight
eyebrows
,
bristly
hair
cropped
short
,
an
eyeglass
on
a
broad
ribbon
,
and
,
becoming
expansive
,
confessed
his
opinion
that
Kurtz
really
could
n't
write
a
bit
--
'
but
heavens
!
how
that
man
could
talk
.
He
electrified
large
meetings
.
He
had
faith
--
do
n't
you
see
?
--
he
had
the
faith
.
He
could
get
himself
to
believe
anything
--
anything
.
He
would
have
been
a
splendid
leader
of
an
extreme
party
.
'
'
What
party
?
'
I
asked
.
'
Any
party
,
'
answered
the
other
.
'
He
was
an
--
an
--
extremist
.
'
Did
I
not
think
so
?
I
assented
.
Did
I
know
,
he
asked
,
with
a
sudden
flash
of
curiosity
,
'
what
it
was
that
had
induced
him
to
go
out
there
?
'
'
Yes
,
'
said
I
,
and
forthwith
handed
him
the
famous
Report
for
publication
,
if
he
thought
fit
.
He
glanced
through
it
hurriedly
,
mumbling
all
the
time
,
judged
'
it
would
do
,
'
and
took
himself
off
with
this
plunder
.
"
Thus
I
was
left
at
last
with
a
slim
packet
of
letters
and
the
girl
's
portrait
.
She
struck
me
as
beautiful
--
I
mean
she
had
a
beautiful
expression
.
I
know
that
the
sunlight
ycan
be
made
to
lie
,
too
,
yet
one
felt
that
no
manipulation
of
light
and
pose
could
have
conveyed
the
delicate
shade
of
truthfulness
upon
those
features
.
She
seemed
ready
to
listen
without
mental
reservation
,
without
suspicion
,
without
a
thought
for
herself
.
I
concluded
I
would
go
and
give
her
back
her
portrait
and
those
letters
myself
.
Curiosity
?
Yes
;
and
also
some
other
feeling
perhaps
.
All
that
had
been
Kurtz
's
had
passed
out
of
my
hands
:
his
soul
,
his
body
,
his
station
,
his
plans
,
his
ivory
,
his
career
.
There
remained
only
his
memory
and
his
Intended
--
and
I
wanted
to
give
that
up
,
too
,
to
the
past
,
in
a
way
--
to
surrender
personally
all
that
remained
of
him
with
me
to
that
oblivion
which
is
the
last
word
of
our
common
fate
.
I
do
n't
defend
myself
.
I
had
no
clear
perception
of
what
it
was
I
really
wanted
.
Perhaps
it
was
an
impulse
of
unconscious
loyalty
,
or
the
fulfilment
of
one
of
those
ironic
necessities
that
lurk
in
the
facts
of
human
existence
.
I
do
n't
know
.
I
ca
n't
tell
.
But
I
went
.
"
I
thought
his
memory
was
like
the
other
memories
of
the
dead
that
accumulate
in
every
man
's
life
--
a
vague
impress
on
the
brain
of
shadows
that
had
fallen
on
it
in
their
swift
and
final
passage
;
but
before
the
high
and
ponderous
door
,
between
the
tall
houses
of
a
street
as
still
and
decorous
as
a
well-kept
alley
in
a
cemetery
,
I
had
a
vision
of
him
on
the
stretcher
,
opening
his
mouth
voraciously
,
as
if
to
devour
all
the
earth
with
all
its
mankind
.
He
lived
then
before
me
;
he
lived
as
much
as
he
had
ever
lived
--
a
shadow
insatiable
of
splendid
appearances
,
of
frightful
realities
;
a
shadow
darker
than
the
shadow
of
the
night
,
and
draped
nobly
in
the
folds
of
a
gorgeous
eloquence
.
The
vision
seemed
to
enter
the
house
with
me
--
the
stretcher
,
the
phantom-bearers
,
the
wild
crowd
of
obedient
worshippers
,
the
gloom
of
the
forests
,
the
glitter
of
the
reach
between
the
murky
bends
,
the
beat
of
the
drum
,
regular
and
muffled
like
the
beating
of
a
heart
--
the
heart
of
a
conquering
darkness
.
It
was
a
moment
of
triumph
for
the
wilderness
,
an
invading
and
vengeful
rush
which
,
it
seemed
to
me
,
I
would
have
to
keep
back
alone
for
the
salvation
of
another
soul
.
And
the
memory
of
what
I
had
heard
him
say
afar
there
,
with
the
horned
shapes
stirring
at
my
back
,
in
the
glow
of
fires
,
within
the
patient
woods
,
those
broken
phrases
came
back
to
me
,
were
heard
again
in
their
ominous
and
terrifying
simplicity
.
I
remembered
his
abject
pleading
,
his
abject
threats
,
the
colossal
scale
of
his
vile
desires
,
the
meanness
,
the
torment
,
the
tempestuous
anguish
of
his
soul
.
And
later
on
I
seemed
to
see
his
collected
languid
manner
,
when
he
said
one
day
,
'
This
lot
of
ivory
now
is
really
mine
.
The
Company
did
not
pay
for
it
.
I
collected
it
myself
at
a
very
great
personal
risk
.
I
am
afraid
they
will
try
to
claim
it
as
theirs
though
.
H
'm
.
It
is
a
difficult
case
.
What
do
you
think
I
ought
to
do
--
resist
?
Eh
?
I
want
no
more
than
justice
.
'
...
He
wanted
no
more
than
justice
--
no
more
than
justice
.
I
rang
the
bell
before
a
mahogany
door
on
the
first
floor
,
and
while
I
waited
he
seemed
to
stare
at
me
out
of
the
glassy
panel
--
stare
with
that
wide
and
immense
stare
embracing
,
condemning
,
loathing
all
the
universe
.
I
seemed
to
hear
the
whispered
cry
,
"
The
horror
!
The
horror
!
"
"
The
dusk
was
falling
.
I
had
to
wait
in
a
lofty
drawing-room
with
three
long
windows
from
floor
to
ceiling
that
were
like
three
luminous
and
bedraped
columns
.
The
bent
gilt
legs
and
backs
of
the
furniture
shone
in
indistinct
curves
.
The
tall
marble
fireplace
had
a
cold
and
monumental
whiteness
.
A
grand
piano
stood
massively
in
a
corner
;
with
dark
gleams
on
the
flat
surfaces
like
a
sombre
and
polished
sarcophagus
.
A
high
door
opened
--
closed
.
I
rose
.
"
She
came
forward
,
all
in
black
,
with
a
pale
head
,
floating
towards
me
in
the
dusk
.
She
was
in
mourning
.
It
was
more
than
a
year
since
his
death
,
more
than
a
year
since
the
news
came
;
she
seemed
as
though
she
would
remember
and
mourn
forever
.
She
took
both
my
hands
in
hers
and
murmured
,
'
I
had
heard
you
were
coming
.
'
I
noticed
she
was
not
very
young
--
I
mean
not
girlish
.
