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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Лорд Джим
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- Стр. 46/107
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I
was
becoming
fanciful
in
the
midst
of
my
industrious
scribbling
;
and
though
,
when
the
scratching
of
my
pen
stopped
for
a
moment
,
there
was
complete
silence
and
stillness
in
the
room
,
I
suffered
from
that
profound
disturbance
and
confusion
of
thought
which
is
caused
by
a
violent
and
menacing
uproar
--
of
a
heavy
gale
at
sea
,
for
instance
.
Some
of
you
may
know
what
I
mean
:
that
mingled
anxiety
,
distress
,
and
irritation
with
a
sort
of
craven
feeling
creeping
in
--
not
pleasant
to
acknowledge
,
but
which
gives
a
quite
special
merit
to
one
's
endurance
.
I
do
n't
claim
any
merit
for
standing
the
stress
of
Jim
's
emotions
;
I
could
take
refuge
in
the
letters
;
I
could
have
written
to
strangers
if
necessary
.
Suddenly
,
as
I
was
taking
up
a
fresh
sheet
of
notepaper
,
I
heard
a
low
sound
,
the
first
sound
that
,
since
we
had
been
shut
up
together
,
had
come
to
my
ears
in
the
dim
stillness
of
the
room
.
I
remained
with
my
head
down
,
with
my
hand
arrested
.
Those
who
have
kept
vigil
by
a
sick-bed
have
heard
such
faint
sounds
in
the
stillness
of
the
night
watches
,
sounds
wrung
from
a
racked
body
,
from
a
weary
soul
.
He
pushed
the
glass
door
with
such
force
that
all
the
panes
rang
:
he
stepped
out
,
and
I
held
my
breath
,
straining
my
ears
without
knowing
what
else
I
expected
to
hear
.
He
was
really
taking
too
much
to
heart
an
empty
formality
which
to
Chester
's
rigorous
criticism
seemed
unworthy
the
notice
of
a
man
who
could
see
things
as
they
were
.
An
empty
formality
;
a
piece
of
parchment
.
Well
,
well
.
As
to
an
inaccessible
guano
deposit
,
that
was
another
story
altogether
.
One
could
intelligibly
break
one
's
heart
over
that
.
A
feeble
burst
of
many
voices
mingled
with
the
tinkle
of
silver
and
glass
floated
up
from
the
dining-room
below
;
through
the
open
door
the
outer
edge
of
the
light
from
my
candle
fell
on
his
back
faintly
;
beyond
all
was
black
;
he
stood
on
the
brink
of
a
vast
obscurity
,
like
a
lonely
figure
by
the
shore
of
a
sombre
and
hopeless
ocean
.
There
was
the
Walpole
Reef
in
it
--
to
be
sure
--
a
speck
in
the
dark
void
,
a
straw
for
the
drowning
man
.
My
compassion
for
him
took
the
shape
of
the
thought
that
I
would
n't
have
liked
his
people
to
see
him
at
that
moment
.
I
found
it
trying
myself
.
His
back
was
no
longer
shaken
by
his
gasps
;
he
stood
straight
as
an
arrow
,
faintly
visible
and
still
;
and
the
meaning
of
this
stillness
sank
to
the
bottom
of
my
soul
like
lead
into
the
water
,
and
made
it
so
heavy
that
for
a
second
I
wished
heartily
that
the
only
course
left
open
for
me
was
to
pay
for
his
funeral
.
Even
the
law
had
done
with
him
.
To
bury
him
would
have
been
such
an
easy
kindness
!
It
would
have
been
so
much
in
accordance
with
the
wisdom
of
life
,
which
consists
in
putting
out
of
sight
all
the
reminders
of
our
folly
,
of
our
weakness
,
of
our
mortality
;
all
that
makes
against
our
efficiency
--
the
memory
of
our
failures
,
the
hints
of
our
undying
fears
,
the
bodies
of
our
dead
friends
.
Perhaps
he
did
take
it
too
much
to
heart
.
And
if
so
then
--
Chester
's
offer
...
At
this
point
I
took
up
a
fresh
sheet
and
began
to
write
resolutely
.
There
was
nothing
but
myself
between
him
and
the
dark
ocean
.
I
had
a
sense
of
responsibility
If
I
spoke
,
would
that
motionless
and
suffering
youth
leap
into
the
obscurity
--
clutch
at
the
straw
?
I
found
out
how
difficult
it
may
be
sometimes
to
make
a
sound
.
There
is
a
weird
power
in
a
spoken
word
.
And
why
the
devil
not
?
I
was
asking
myself
persistently
while
I
drove
on
with
my
writing
.
All
at
once
,
on
the
blank
page
,
under
the
very
point
of
the
pen
,
the
two
figures
of
Chester
and
his
antique
partner
,
very
distinct
and
complete
,
would
dodge
into
view
with
stride
and
gestures
,
as
if
reproduced
in
the
field
of
some
optical
toy
.
I
would
watch
them
for
a
while
.
No
!
They
were
too
phantasmal
and
extravagant
to
enter
into
any
one
's
fate
.
And
a
word
carries
far
--
very
far
--
deals
destruction
through
time
as
the
bullets
go
flying
through
space
.
I
said
nothing
;
and
he
,
out
there
with
his
back
to
the
light
,
as
if
bound
and
gagged
by
all
the
invisible
foes
of
man
,
made
no
stir
and
made
no
sound
.
'
'
The
time
was
coming
when
I
should
see
him
loved
,
trusted
,
admired
,
with
a
legend
of
strength
and
prowess
forming
round
his
name
as
though
he
had
been
the
stuff
of
a
hero
.
It
's
true
--
I
assure
you
;
as
true
as
I
'm
sitting
here
talking
about
him
in
vain
.
He
,
on
his
side
,
had
that
faculty
of
beholding
at
a
hint
the
face
of
his
desire
and
the
shape
of
his
dream
,
without
which
the
earth
would
know
no
lover
and
no
adventurer
.
He
captured
much
honour
and
an
Arcadian
happiness
(
I
wo
n't
say
anything
about
innocence
)
in
the
bush
,
and
it
was
as
good
to
him
as
the
honour
and
the
Arcadian
happiness
of
the
streets
to
another
man
.
Felicity
,
felicity
--
how
shall
I
say
it
?
--
is
quaffed
out
of
a
golden
cup
in
every
latitude
:
the
flavour
is
with
you
--
with
you
alone
,
and
you
can
make
it
as
intoxicating
as
you
please
.
He
was
of
the
sort
that
would
drink
deep
,
as
you
may
guess
from
what
went
before
.
I
found
him
,
if
not
exactly
intoxicated
,
then
at
least
flushed
with
the
elixir
at
his
lips
.
He
had
not
obtained
it
at
once
.
There
had
been
,
as
you
know
,
a
period
of
probation
amongst
infernal
ship-chandlers
,
during
which
he
had
suffered
and
I
had
worried
about
--
about
--
my
trust
--
you
may
call
it
.
I
do
n't
know
that
I
am
completely
reassured
now
,
after
beholding
him
in
all
his
brilliance
.
That
was
my
last
view
of
him
--
in
a
strong
light
,
dominating
,
and
yet
in
complete
accord
with
his
surroundings
--
with
the
life
of
the
forests
and
with
the
life
of
men
.
I
own
that
I
was
impressed
,
but
I
must
admit
to
myself
that
after
all
this
is
not
the
lasting
impression
.
He
was
protected
by
his
isolation
,
alone
of
his
own
superior
kind
,
in
close
touch
with
Nature
,
that
keeps
faith
on
such
easy
terms
with
her
lovers
.
But
I
can
not
fix
before
my
eye
the
image
of
his
safety
.
I
shall
always
remember
him
as
seen
through
the
open
door
of
my
room
,
taking
,
perhaps
,
too
much
to
heart
the
mere
consequences
of
his
failure
.
I
am
pleased
,
of
course
,
that
some
good
--
and
even
some
splendour
--
came
out
of
my
endeavours
;
but
at
times
it
seems
to
me
it
would
have
been
better
for
my
peace
of
mind
if
I
had
not
stood
between
him
and
Chester
's
confoundedly
generous
offer
.
I
wonder
what
his
exuberant
imagination
would
have
made
of
Walpole
islet
--
that
most
hopelessly
forsaken
crumb
of
dry
land
on
the
face
of
the
waters
.
It
is
not
likely
I
would
ever
have
heard
,
for
I
must
tell
you
that
Chester
,
after
calling
at
some
Australian
port
to
patch
up
his
brig-rigged
sea-anachronism
,
steamed
out
into
the
Pacific
with
a
crew
of
twenty-two
hands
all
told
,
and
the
only
news
having
a
possible
bearing
upon
the
mystery
of
his
fate
was
the
news
of
a
hurricane
which
is
supposed
to
have
swept
in
its
course
over
the
Walpole
shoals
,
a
month
or
so
afterwards
.
Not
a
vestige
of
the
Argonauts
ever
turned
up
;
not
a
sound
came
out
of
the
waste
.
Finis
!
The
Pacific
is
the
most
discreet
of
live
,
hot-tempered
oceans
:
the
chilly
Antarctic
can
keep
a
secret
too
,
but
more
in
the
manner
of
a
grave
.
'
And
there
is
a
sense
of
blessed
finality
in
such
discretion
,
which
is
what
we
all
more
or
less
sincerely
are
ready
to
admit
--
for
what
else
is
it
that
makes
the
idea
of
death
supportable
?
End
!
Finis
!
the
potent
word
that
exorcises
from
the
house
of
life
the
haunting
shadow
of
fate
.
This
is
what
--
notwithstanding
the
testimony
of
my
eyes
and
his
own
earnest
assurances
--
I
miss
when
I
look
back
upon
Jim
's
success
.
While
there
's
life
there
is
hope
,
truly
;
but
there
is
fear
too
.
I
do
n't
mean
to
say
that
I
regret
my
action
,
nor
will
I
pretend
that
I
ca
n't
sleep
o
'
nights
in
consequence
;
still
,
the
idea
obtrudes
itself
that
he
made
so
much
of
his
disgrace
while
it
is
the
guilt
alone
that
matters
.
He
was
not
--
if
I
may
say
so
--
clear
to
me
.
He
was
not
clear
.
And
there
is
a
suspicion
he
was
not
clear
to
himself
either
.
There
were
his
fine
sensibilities
,
his
fine
feelings
,
his
fine
longings
--
a
sort
of
sublimated
,
idealised
selfishness
.
He
was
--
if
you
allow
me
to
say
so
--
very
fine
;
very
fine
--
and
very
unfortunate
.
A
little
coarser
nature
would
not
have
borne
the
strain
;
it
would
have
had
to
come
to
terms
with
itself
--
with
a
sigh
,
with
a
grunt
,
or
even
with
a
guffaw
;
a
still
coarser
one
would
have
remained
invulnerably
ignorant
and
completely
uninteresting
.
'
But
he
was
too
interesting
or
too
unfortunate
to
be
thrown
to
the
dogs
,
or
even
to
Chester
.
I
felt
this
while
I
sat
with
my
face
over
the
paper
and
he
fought
and
gasped
,
struggling
for
his
breath
in
that
terribly
stealthy
way
,
in
my
room
;
I
felt
it
when
he
rushed
out
on
the
verandah
as
if
to
fling
himself
over
--
and
did
n't
;
I
felt
it
more
and
more
all
the
time
he
remained
outside
,
faintly
lighted
on
the
background
of
night
,
as
if
standing
on
the
shore
of
a
sombre
and
hopeless
sea
.
'
An
abrupt
heavy
rumble
made
me
lift
my
head
.
The
noise
seemed
to
roll
away
,
and
suddenly
a
searching
and
violent
glare
fell
on
the
blind
face
of
the
night
.
The
sustained
and
dazzling
flickers
seemed
to
last
for
an
unconscionable
time
.
The
growl
of
the
thunder
increased
steadily
while
I
looked
at
him
,
distinct
and
black
,
planted
solidly
upon
the
shores
of
a
sea
of
light
.
At
the
moment
of
greatest
brilliance
the
darkness
leaped
back
with
a
culminating
crash
,
and
he
vanished
before
my
dazzled
eyes
as
utterly
as
though
he
had
been
blown
to
atoms
.
A
blustering
sigh
passed
;
furious
hands
seemed
to
tear
at
the
shrubs
,
shake
the
tops
of
the
trees
below
,
slam
doors
,
break
window-panes
,
all
along
the
front
of
the
building
.
He
stepped
in
,
closing
the
door
behind
him
,
and
found
me
bending
over
the
table
:
my
sudden
anxiety
as
to
what
he
would
say
was
very
great
,
and
akin
to
a
fright
.
"
May
I
have
a
cigarette
?
"
he
asked
.
I
gave
a
push
to
the
box
without
raising
my
head
.
"
I
want
--
want
--
tobacco
,
"
he
muttered
.
I
became
extremely
buoyant
.
"
Just
a
moment
.
"
I
grunted
pleasantly
.
He
took
a
few
steps
here
and
there
.
"
That
's
over
,
"
I
heard
him
say
.
A
single
distant
clap
of
thunder
came
from
the
sea
like
a
gun
of
distress
.
"
The
monsoon
breaks
up
early
this
year
,
"
he
remarked
conversationally
,
somewhere
behind
me
.
This
encouraged
me
to
turn
round
,
which
I
did
as
soon
as
I
had
finished
addressing
the
last
envelope
.
He
was
smoking
greedily
in
the
middle
of
the
room
,
and
though
he
heard
the
stir
I
made
,
he
remained
with
his
back
to
me
for
a
time
.
