-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джозеф Конрад
-
- Лорд Джим
-
- Стр. 4/107
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
To
Jim
that
gossiping
crowd
,
viewed
as
seamen
,
seemed
at
first
more
unsubstantial
than
so
many
shadows
.
But
at
length
he
found
a
fascination
in
the
sight
of
those
men
,
in
their
appearance
of
doing
so
well
on
such
a
small
allowance
of
danger
and
toil
.
In
time
,
beside
the
original
disdain
there
grew
up
slowly
another
sentiment
;
and
suddenly
,
giving
up
the
idea
of
going
home
,
he
took
a
berth
as
chief
mate
of
the
Patna
.
The
Patna
was
a
local
steamer
as
old
as
the
hills
,
lean
like
a
greyhound
,
and
eaten
up
with
rust
worse
than
a
condemned
water-tank
.
She
was
owned
by
a
Chinaman
,
chartered
by
an
Arab
,
and
commanded
by
a
sort
of
renegade
New
South
Wales
German
,
very
anxious
to
curse
publicly
his
native
country
,
but
who
,
apparently
on
the
strength
of
Bismarck
's
victorious
policy
,
brutalised
all
those
he
was
not
afraid
of
,
and
wore
a
'
blood-and-iron
'
air
,
'
combined
with
a
purple
nose
and
a
red
moustache
.
After
she
had
been
painted
outside
and
whitewashed
inside
,
eight
hundred
pilgrims
(
more
or
less
)
were
driven
on
board
of
her
as
she
lay
with
steam
up
alongside
a
wooden
jetty
.
They
streamed
aboard
over
three
gangways
,
they
streamed
in
urged
by
faith
and
the
hope
of
paradise
,
they
streamed
in
with
a
continuous
tramp
and
shuffle
of
bare
feet
,
without
a
word
,
a
murmur
,
or
a
look
back
;
and
when
clear
of
confining
rails
spread
on
all
sides
over
the
deck
,
flowed
forward
and
aft
,
overflowed
down
the
yawning
hatchways
,
filled
the
inner
recesses
of
the
ship
--
like
water
filling
a
cistern
,
like
water
flowing
into
crevices
and
crannies
,
like
water
rising
silently
even
with
the
rim
.
Eight
hundred
men
and
women
with
faith
and
hopes
,
with
affections
and
memories
,
they
had
collected
there
,
coming
from
north
and
south
and
from
the
outskirts
of
the
East
,
after
treading
the
jungle
paths
,
descending
the
rivers
,
coasting
in
praus
along
the
shallows
,
crossing
in
small
canoes
from
island
to
island
,
passing
through
suffering
,
meeting
strange
sights
,
beset
by
strange
fears
,
upheld
by
one
desire
.
They
came
from
solitary
huts
in
the
wilderness
,
from
populous
campongs
,
from
villages
by
the
sea
.
At
the
call
of
an
idea
they
had
left
their
forests
,
their
clearings
,
the
protection
of
their
rulers
,
their
prosperity
,
their
poverty
,
the
surroundings
of
their
youth
and
the
graves
of
their
fathers
.
They
came
covered
with
dust
,
with
sweat
,
with
grime
,
with
rags
--
the
strong
men
at
the
head
of
family
parties
,
the
lean
old
men
pressing
forward
without
hope
of
return
;
young
boys
with
fearless
eyes
glancing
curiously
,
shy
little
girls
with
tumbled
long
hair
;
the
timid
women
muffled
up
and
clasping
to
their
breasts
,
wrapped
in
loose
ends
of
soiled
head-cloths
,
their
sleeping
babies
,
the
unconscious
pilgrims
of
an
exacting
belief
.
'
Look
at
dese
cattle
,
'
said
the
German
skipper
to
his
new
chief
mate
.
An
Arab
,
the
leader
of
that
pious
voyage
,
came
last
.
He
walked
slowly
aboard
,
handsome
and
grave
in
his
white
gown
and
large
turban
.
A
string
of
servants
followed
,
loaded
with
his
luggage
;
the
Patna
cast
off
and
backed
away
from
the
wharf
.
She
was
headed
between
two
small
islets
,
crossed
obliquely
the
anchoring-ground
of
sailing-ships
,
swung
through
half
a
circle
in
the
shadow
of
a
hill
,
then
ranged
close
to
a
ledge
of
foaming
reefs
.
The
Arab
,
standing
up
aft
,
recited
aloud
the
prayer
of
travellers
by
sea
.
He
invoked
the
favour
of
the
Most
High
upon
that
journey
,
implored
His
blessing
on
men
's
toil
and
on
the
secret
purposes
of
their
hearts
;
the
steamer
pounded
in
the
dusk
the
calm
water
of
the
Strait
;
and
far
astern
of
the
pilgrim
ship
a
screw-pile
lighthouse
,
planted
by
unbelievers
on
a
treacherous
shoal
,
seemed
to
wink
at
her
its
eye
of
flame
,
as
if
in
derision
of
her
errand
of
faith
.
She
cleared
the
Strait
,
crossed
the
bay
,
continued
on
her
way
through
the
'
One-degree
'
passage
.
She
held
on
straight
for
the
Red
Sea
under
a
serene
sky
,
under
a
sky
scorching
and
unclouded
,
enveloped
in
a
fulgor
of
sunshine
that
killed
all
thought
,
oppressed
the
heart
,
withered
all
impulses
of
strength
and
energy
.
And
under
the
sinister
splendour
of
that
sky
the
sea
,
blue
and
profound
,
remained
still
,
without
a
stir
,
without
a
ripple
,
without
a
wrinkle
--
viscous
,
stagnant
,
dead
.
The
Patna
,
with
a
slight
hiss
,
passed
over
that
plain
,
luminous
and
smooth
,
unrolled
a
black
ribbon
of
smoke
across
the
sky
,
left
behind
her
on
the
water
a
white
ribbon
of
foam
that
vanished
at
once
,
like
the
phantom
of
a
track
drawn
upon
a
lifeless
sea
by
the
phantom
of
a
steamer