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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Лорд Джим
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- Стр. 88/107
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'
I
send
you
also
an
old
letter
--
a
very
old
letter
.
It
was
found
carefully
preserved
in
his
writing-case
.
It
is
from
his
father
,
and
by
the
date
you
can
see
he
must
have
received
it
a
few
days
before
he
joined
the
Patna
.
Thus
it
must
be
the
last
letter
he
ever
had
from
home
.
He
had
treasured
it
all
these
years
.
The
good
old
parson
fancied
his
sailor
son
.
I
've
looked
in
at
a
sentence
here
and
there
.
There
is
nothing
in
it
except
just
affection
.
He
tells
his
"
dear
James
"
that
the
last
long
letter
from
him
was
very
"
honest
and
entertaining
.
"
He
would
not
have
him
"
judge
men
harshly
or
hastily
.
"
There
are
four
pages
of
it
,
easy
morality
and
family
news
.
Tom
had
"
taken
orders
.
"
Carrie
's
husband
had
"
money
losses
.
"
The
old
chap
goes
on
equably
trusting
Providence
and
the
established
order
of
the
universe
,
but
alive
to
its
small
dangers
and
its
small
mercies
.
One
can
almost
see
him
,
grey-haired
and
serene
in
the
inviolable
shelter
of
his
book-lined
,
faded
,
and
comfortable
study
,
where
for
forty
years
he
had
conscientiously
gone
over
and
over
again
the
round
of
his
little
thoughts
about
faith
and
virtue
,
about
the
conduct
of
life
and
the
only
proper
manner
of
dying
;
where
he
had
written
so
many
sermons
,
where
he
sits
talking
to
his
boy
,
over
there
,
on
the
other
side
of
the
earth
.
But
what
of
the
distance
?
Virtue
is
one
all
over
the
world
,
and
there
is
only
one
faith
,
one
conceivable
conduct
of
life
,
one
manner
of
dying
.
He
hopes
his
"
dear
James
"
will
never
forget
that
"
who
once
gives
way
to
temptation
,
in
the
very
instant
hazards
his
total
depravity
and
everlasting
ruin
.
Therefore
resolve
fixedly
never
,
through
any
possible
motives
,
to
do
anything
which
you
believe
to
be
wrong
.
"
There
is
also
some
news
of
a
favourite
dog
;
and
a
pony
,
"
which
all
you
boys
used
to
ride
,
"
had
gone
blind
from
old
age
and
had
to
be
shot
.
The
old
chap
invokes
Heaven
's
blessing
;
the
mother
and
all
the
girls
then
at
home
send
their
love
...
No
,
there
is
nothing
much
in
that
yellow
frayed
letter
fluttering
out
of
his
cherishing
grasp
after
so
many
years
.
It
was
never
answered
,
but
who
can
say
what
converse
he
may
have
held
with
all
these
placid
,
colourless
forms
of
men
and
women
peopling
that
quiet
corner
of
the
world
as
free
of
danger
or
strife
as
a
tomb
,
and
breathing
equably
the
air
of
undisturbed
rectitude
.
It
seems
amazing
that
he
should
belong
to
it
,
he
to
whom
so
many
things
"
had
come
.
"
Nothing
ever
came
to
them
;
they
would
never
be
taken
unawares
,
and
never
be
called
upon
to
grapple
with
fate
.
Here
they
all
are
,
evoked
by
the
mild
gossip
of
the
father
,
all
these
brothers
and
sisters
,
bone
of
his
bone
and
flesh
of
his
flesh
,
gazing
with
clear
unconscious
eyes
,
while
I
seem
to
see
him
,
returned
at
last
,
no
longer
a
mere
white
speck
at
the
heart
of
an
immense
mystery
,
but
of
full
stature
,
standing
disregarded
amongst
their
untroubled
shapes
,
with
a
stern
and
romantic
aspect
,
but
always
mute
,
dark
--
under
a
cloud
.
'
The
story
of
the
last
events
you
will
find
in
the
few
pages
enclosed
here
You
must
admit
that
it
is
romantic
beyond
the
wildest
dreams
of
his
boyhood
,
and
yet
there
is
to
my
mind
a
sort
of
profound
and
terrifying
logic
in
it
,
as
if
it
were
our
imagination
alone
that
could
set
loose
upon
us
the
might
of
an
overwhelming
destiny
.
The
imprudence
of
our
thoughts
recoils
upon
our
heads
;
who
toys
with
the
sword
shall
perish
by
the
sword
.
This
astounding
adventure
,
of
which
the
most
astounding
part
is
that
it
is
true
,
comes
on
as
an
unavoidable
consequence
.
Something
of
the
sort
had
to
happen
.
You
repeat
this
to
yourself
while
you
marvel
that
such
a
thing
could
happen
in
the
year
of
grace
before
last
.
But
it
has
happened
--
and
there
is
no
disputing
its
logic
.
'
I
put
it
down
here
for
you
as
though
I
had
been
an
eyewitness
.
My
information
was
fragmentary
,
but
I
've
fitted
the
pieces
together
,
and
there
is
enough
of
them
to
make
an
intelligible
picture
.
I
wonder
how
he
would
have
related
it
himself
.
He
has
confided
so
much
in
me
that
at
times
it
seems
as
though
he
must
come
in
presently
and
tell
the
story
in
his
own
words
,
in
his
careless
yet
feeling
voice
,
with
his
offhand
manner
,
a
little
puzzled
,
a
little
bothered
,
a
little
hurt
,
but
now
and
then
by
a
word
or
a
phrase
giving
one
of
these
glimpses
of
his
very
own
self
that
were
never
any
good
for
purposes
of
orientation
.
It
's
difficult
to
believe
he
will
never
come
.
I
shall
never
hear
his
voice
again
,
nor
shall
I
see
his
smooth
tan-and-pink
face
with
a
white
line
on
the
forehead
,
and
the
youthful
eyes
darkened
by
excitement
to
a
profound
,
unfathomable
blue
.
'
'
It
all
begins
with
a
remarkable
exploit
of
a
man
called
Brown
,
who
stole
with
complete
success
a
Spanish
schooner
out
of
a
small
bay
near
Zamboanga
.
Till
I
discovered
the
fellow
my
information
was
incomplete
,
but
most
unexpectedly
I
did
come
upon
him
a
few
hours
before
he
gave
up
his
arrogant
ghost
.
Fortunately
he
was
willing
and
able
to
talk
between
the
choking
fits
of
asthma
,
and
his
racked
body
writhed
with
malicious
exultation
at
the
bare
thought
of
Jim
.
He
exulted
thus
at
the
idea
that
he
had
"
paid
out
the
stuck-up
beggar
after
all
.
"
He
gloated
over
his
action
.
I
had
to
bear
the
sunken
glare
of
his
fierce
crow-footed
eyes
if
I
wanted
to
know
;
and
so
I
bore
it
,
reflecting
how
much
certain
forms
of
evil
are
akin
to
madness
,
derived
from
intense
egoism
,
inflamed
by
resistance
,
tearing
the
soul
to
pieces
,
and
giving
factitious
vigour
to
the
body
.
The
story
also
reveals
unsuspected
depths
of
cunning
in
the
wretched
Cornelius
,
whose
abject
and
intense
hate
acts
like
a
subtle
inspiration
,
pointing
out
an
unerring
way
towards
revenge
.
"'
I
could
see
directly
I
set
my
eyes
on
him
what
sort
of
a
fool
he
was
,
"
gasped
the
dying
Brown
.
"
He
a
man
!
Hell
!
He
was
a
hollow
sham
.
As
if
he
could
n't
have
said
straight
out
,
'
Hands
off
my
plunder
!
'
blast
him
!
That
would
have
been
like
a
man
!
Rot
his
superior
soul
!
He
had
me
there
--
but
he
had
n't
devil
enough
in
him
to
make
an
end
of
me
.
Not
he
!
A
thing
like
that
letting
me
off
as
if
I
was
n't
worth
a
kick
!
...
"
Brown
struggled
desperately
for
breath
...
"
Fraud
...
Letting
me
off
...
And
so
I
did
make
an
end
of
him
after
all
...
"
He
choked
again
...
"
I
expect
this
thing
'll
kill
me
,
but
I
shall
die
easy
now
.
You
...
you
here
...
I
do
n't
know
your
name
--
I
would
give
you
a
five-pound
note
if
--
if
I
had
it
--
for
the
news
--
or
my
name
's
not
Brown
...
"
He
grinned
horribly
...
"
Gentleman
Brown
.
"
'
He
said
all
these
things
in
profound
gasps
,
staring
at
me
with
his
yellow
eyes
out
of
a
long
,
ravaged
,
brown
face
;
he
jerked
his
left
arm
;
a
pepper-and-salt
matted
beard
hung
almost
into
his
lap
;
a
dirty
ragged
blanket
covered
his
legs
.
I
had
found
him
out
in
Bankok
through
that
busybody
Schomberg
,
the
hotel-keeper
,
who
had
,
confidentially
,
directed
me
where
to
look
.
It
appears
that
a
sort
of
loafing
,
fuddled
vagabond
--
a
white
man
living
amongst
the
natives
with
a
Siamese
woman
--
had
considered
it
a
great
privilege
to
give
a
shelter
to
the
last
days
of
the
famous
Gentleman
Brown
.
While
he
was
talking
to
me
in
the
wretched
hovel
,
and
,
as
it
were
,
fighting
for
every
minute
of
his
life
,
the
Siamese
woman
,
with
big
bare
legs
and
a
stupid
coarse
face
,
sat
in
a
dark
corner
chewing
betel
stolidly
.
Now
and
then
she
would
get
up
for
the
purpose
of
shooing
a
chicken
away
from
the
door
.
The
whole
hut
shook
when
she
walked
.
An
ugly
yellow
child
,
naked
and
pot-bellied
like
a
little
heathen
god
,
stood
at
the
foot
of
the
couch
,
finger
in
mouth
,
lost
in
a
profound
and
calm
contemplation
of
the
dying
man
.
