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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Лорд Джим
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- Стр. 85/107
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'
I
breathed
deeply
,
I
revelled
in
the
vastness
of
the
opened
horizon
,
in
the
different
atmosphere
that
seemed
to
vibrate
with
the
toil
of
life
,
with
the
energy
of
an
impeccable
world
.
This
sky
and
this
sea
were
open
to
me
.
The
girl
was
right
--
there
was
a
sign
,
a
call
in
them
--
something
to
which
I
responded
with
every
fibre
of
my
being
.
I
let
my
eyes
roam
through
space
,
like
a
man
released
from
bonds
who
stretches
his
cramped
limbs
,
runs
,
leaps
,
responds
to
the
inspiring
elation
of
freedom
.
"
This
is
glorious
!
"
I
cried
,
and
then
I
looked
at
the
sinner
by
my
side
.
He
sat
with
his
head
sunk
on
his
breast
and
said
"
Yes
,
"
without
raising
his
eyes
,
as
if
afraid
to
see
writ
large
on
the
clear
sky
of
the
offing
the
reproach
of
his
romantic
conscience
.
'
I
remember
the
smallest
details
of
that
afternoon
.
We
landed
on
a
bit
of
white
beach
.
It
was
backed
by
a
low
cliff
wooded
on
the
brow
,
draped
in
creepers
to
the
very
foot
.
Below
us
the
plain
of
the
sea
,
of
a
serene
and
intense
blue
,
stretched
with
a
slight
upward
tilt
to
the
thread-like
horizon
drawn
at
the
height
of
our
eyes
.
Great
waves
of
glitter
blew
lightly
along
the
pitted
dark
surface
,
as
swift
as
feathers
chased
by
the
breeze
.
A
chain
of
islands
sat
broken
and
massive
facing
the
wide
estuary
,
displayed
in
a
sheet
of
pale
glassy
water
reflecting
faithfully
the
contour
of
the
shore
.
High
in
the
colourless
sunshine
a
solitary
bird
,
all
black
,
hovered
,
dropping
and
soaring
above
the
same
spot
with
a
slight
rocking
motion
of
the
wings
.
A
ragged
,
sooty
bunch
of
flimsy
mat
hovels
was
perched
over
its
own
inverted
image
upon
a
crooked
multitude
of
high
piles
the
colour
of
ebony
.
A
tiny
black
canoe
put
off
from
amongst
them
with
two
tiny
men
,
all
black
,
who
toiled
exceedingly
,
striking
down
at
the
pale
water
:
and
the
canoe
seemed
to
slide
painfully
on
a
mirror
.
This
bunch
of
miserable
hovels
was
the
fishing
village
that
boasted
of
the
white
lord
's
especial
protection
,
and
the
two
men
crossing
over
were
the
old
headman
and
his
son-in-law
.
They
landed
and
walked
up
to
us
on
the
white
sand
,
lean
,
dark-brown
as
if
dried
in
smoke
,
with
ashy
patches
on
the
skin
of
their
naked
shoulders
and
breasts
.
Their
heads
were
bound
in
dirty
but
carefully
folded
headkerchiefs
,
and
the
old
man
began
at
once
to
state
a
complaint
,
voluble
,
stretching
a
lank
arm
,
screwing
up
at
Jim
his
old
bleared
eyes
confidently
.
The
Rajah
's
people
would
not
leave
them
alone
;
there
had
been
some
trouble
about
a
lot
of
turtles
'
eggs
his
people
had
collected
on
the
islets
there
--
and
leaning
at
arm
's
-
length
upon
his
paddle
,
he
pointed
with
a
brown
skinny
hand
over
the
sea
.
Jim
listened
for
a
time
without
looking
up
,
and
at
last
told
him
gently
to
wait
.
He
would
hear
him
by-and-by
.
They
withdrew
obediently
to
some
little
distance
,
and
sat
on
their
heels
,
with
their
paddles
lying
before
them
on
the
sand
;
the
silvery
gleams
in
their
eyes
followed
our
movements
patiently
;
and
the
immensity
of
the
outspread
sea
,
the
stillness
of
the
coast
,
passing
north
and
south
beyond
the
limits
of
my
vision
,
made
up
one
colossal
Presence
watching
us
four
dwarfs
isolated
on
a
strip
of
glistening
sand
.
"'
The
trouble
is
,
"
remarked
Jim
moodily
,
"
that
for
generations
these
beggars
of
fishermen
in
that
village
there
had
been
considered
as
the
Rajah
's
personal
slaves
--
and
the
old
rip
ca
n't
get
it
into
his
head
that
...
"
'
He
paused
.
"
That
you
have
changed
all
that
,
"
I
said
.
"'
Yes
I
've
changed
all
that
,
"
he
muttered
in
a
gloomy
voice
.
"'
You
have
had
your
opportunity
,
"
I
pursued
.
"'
Have
I
?
"
he
said
.
"
Well
,
yes
.
I
suppose
so
.
Yes
.
I
have
got
back
my
confidence
in
myself
--
a
good
name
--
yet
sometimes
I
wish
...
No
!
I
shall
hold
what
I
've
got
.
Ca
n't
expect
anything
more
.
"
He
flung
his
arm
out
towards
the
sea
.
"
Not
out
there
anyhow
.
"
He
stamped
his
foot
upon
the
sand
.
"
This
is
my
limit
,
because
nothing
less
will
do
.
"
'
We
continued
pacing
the
beach
.
"
Yes
,
I
've
changed
all
that
,
"
he
went
on
,
with
a
sidelong
glance
at
the
two
patient
squatting
fishermen
;
"
but
only
try
to
think
what
it
would
be
if
I
went
away
.
Jove
!
ca
n't
you
see
it
?
Hell
loose
.
No
!
To-morrow
I
shall
go
and
take
my
chance
of
drinking
that
silly
old
Tunku
Allung
's
coffee
,
and
I
shall
make
no
end
of
fuss
over
these
rotten
turtles
'
eggs
.
No
.
I
ca
n't
say
--
enough
.
Never
.
I
must
go
on
,
go
on
for
ever
holding
up
my
end
,
to
feel
sure
that
nothing
can
touch
me
.
I
must
stick
to
their
belief
in
me
to
feel
safe
and
to
--
to
"
...
He
cast
about
for
a
word
,
seemed
to
look
for
it
on
the
sea
...
"
to
keep
in
touch
with
"
...
