-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джозеф Конрад
-
- Ностромо
-
- Стр. 130/274
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
rain
began
to
fall
again
;
first
like
a
wet
mist
,
then
with
a
heavier
touch
,
thickening
into
a
smart
,
perpendicular
downpour
;
and
the
hiss
and
thump
of
the
approaching
steamer
was
coming
extremely
near
.
Decoud
,
with
his
eyes
full
of
water
,
and
lowered
head
,
asked
himself
how
long
it
would
be
before
she
drew
past
,
when
unexpectedly
he
felt
a
lurch
.
An
inrush
of
foam
broke
swishing
over
the
stern
,
simultaneously
with
a
crack
of
timbers
and
a
staggering
shock
.
He
had
the
impression
of
an
angry
hand
laying
hold
of
the
lighter
and
dragging
it
along
to
destruction
.
The
shock
,
of
course
,
had
knocked
him
down
,
and
he
found
himself
rolling
in
a
lot
of
water
at
the
bottom
of
the
lighter
.
A
violent
churning
went
on
alongside
;
a
strange
and
amazed
voice
cried
out
something
above
him
in
the
night
.
He
heard
a
piercing
shriek
for
help
from
Senor
Hirsch
.
He
kept
his
teeth
hard
set
all
the
time
.
It
was
a
collision
!
The
steamer
had
struck
the
lighter
obliquely
,
heeling
her
over
till
she
was
half
swamped
,
starting
some
of
her
timbers
,
and
swinging
her
head
parallel
to
her
own
course
with
the
force
of
the
blow
.
The
shock
of
it
on
board
of
her
was
hardly
perceptible
.
All
the
violence
of
that
collision
was
,
as
usual
,
felt
only
on
board
the
smaller
craft
.
Even
Nostromo
himself
thought
that
this
was
perhaps
the
end
of
his
desperate
adventure
.
He
,
too
,
had
been
flung
away
from
the
long
tiller
,
which
took
charge
in
the
lurch
.
Next
moment
the
steamer
would
have
passed
on
,
leaving
the
lighter
to
sink
or
swim
after
having
shouldered
her
thus
out
of
her
way
,
and
without
even
getting
a
glimpse
of
her
form
,
had
it
not
been
that
,
being
deeply
laden
with
stores
and
the
great
number
of
people
on
board
,
her
anchor
was
low
enough
to
hook
itself
into
one
of
the
wire
shrouds
of
the
lighter
's
mast
.
For
the
space
of
two
or
three
gasping
breaths
that
new
rope
held
against
the
sudden
strain
.
It
was
this
that
gave
Decoud
the
sensation
of
the
snatching
pull
,
dragging
the
lighter
away
to
destruction
.
The
cause
of
it
,
of
course
,
was
inexplicable
to
him
.
The
whole
thing
was
so
sudden
that
he
had
no
time
to
think
.
But
all
his
sensations
were
perfectly
clear
;
he
had
kept
complete
possession
of
himself
;
in
fact
,
he
was
even
pleasantly
aware
of
that
calmness
at
the
very
moment
of
being
pitched
head
first
over
the
transom
,
to
struggle
on
his
back
in
a
lot
of
water
.
Senor
Hirsch
's
shriek
he
had
heard
and
recognized
while
he
was
regaining
his
feet
,
always
with
that
mysterious
sensation
of
being
dragged
headlong
through
the
darkness
.
Not
a
word
,
not
a
cry
escaped
him
;
he
had
no
time
to
see
anything
;
and
following
upon
the
despairing
screams
for
help
,
the
dragging
motion
ceased
so
suddenly
that
he
staggered
forward
with
open
arms
and
fell
against
the
pile
of
the
treasure
boxes
.
He
clung
to
them
instinctively
,
in
the
vague
apprehension
of
being
flung
about
again
;
and
immediately
he
heard
another
lot
of
shrieks
for
help
,
prolonged
and
despairing
,
not
near
him
at
all
,
but
unaccountably
in
the
distance
,
away
from
the
lighter
altogether
,
as
if
some
spirit
in
the
night
were
mocking
at
Senor
Hirsch
's
terror
and
despair
.
Then
all
was
still
--
as
still
as
when
you
wake
up
in
your
bed
in
a
dark
room
from
a
bizarre
and
agitated
dream
.
The
lighter
rocked
slightly
;
the
rain
was
still
falling
.
Two
groping
hands
took
hold
of
his
bruised
sides
from
behind
,
and
the
Capataz
's
voice
whispered
,
in
his
ear
,
"
Silence
,
for
your
life
!
Silence
!
The
steamer
has
stopped
.
"
Decoud
listened
.
The
gulf
was
dumb
.
He
felt
the
water
nearly
up
to
his
knees
.
"
Are
we
sinking
?
"
he
asked
in
a
faint
breath
.
"
I
do
n't
know
,
"
Nostromo
breathed
back
to
him
.
"
Senor
,
make
not
the
slightest
sound
.
"
Hirsch
,
when
ordered
forward
by
Nostromo
,
had
not
returned
into
his
first
hiding-place
.
He
had
fallen
near
the
mast
,
and
had
no
strength
to
rise
;
moreover
,
he
feared
to
move
.
He
had
given
himself
up
for
dead
,
but
not
on
any
rational
grounds
.
It
was
simply
a
cruel
and
terrifying
feeling
.
Whenever
he
tried
to
think
what
would
become
of
him
his
teeth
would
start
chattering
violently
.
He
was
too
absorbed
in
the
utter
misery
of
his
fear
to
take
notice
of
anything
.
Though
he
was
stifling
under
the
lighter
's
sail
which
Nostromo
had
unwittingly
lowered
on
top
of
him
,
he
did
not
even
dare
to
put
out
his
head
till
the
very
moment
of
the
steamer
striking
.
Then
,
indeed
,
he
leaped
right
out
,
spurred
on
to
new
miracles
of
bodily
vigour
by
this
new
shape
of
danger
.
The
inrush
of
water
when
the
lighter
heeled
over
unsealed
his
lips
.
His
shriek
,
"
Save
me
!
"
was
the
first
distinct
warning
of
the
collision
for
the
people
on
board
the
steamer
.
Next
moment
the
wire
shroud
parted
,
and
the
released
anchor
swept
over
the
lighter
's
forecastle
.
It
came
against
the
breast
of
Senor
Hirsch
,
who
simply
seized
hold
of
it
,
without
in
the
least
knowing
what
it
was
,
but
curling
his
arms
and
legs
upon
the
part
above
the
fluke
with
an
invincible
,
unreasonable
tenacity
.
The
lighter
yawed
off
wide
,
and
the
steamer
,
moving
on
,
carried
him
away
,
clinging
hard
,
and
shouting
for
help
.
It
was
some
time
,
however
,
after
the
steamer
had
stopped
that
his
position
was
discovered
.
His
sustained
yelping
for
help
seemed
to
come
from
somebody
swimming
in
the
water
.
At
last
a
couple
of
men
went
over
the
bows
and
hauled
him
on
board
.
He
was
carried
straight
off
to
Sotillo
on
the
bridge
.
His
examination
confirmed
the
impression
that
some
craft
had
been
run
over
and
sunk
,
but
it
was
impracticable
on
such
a
dark
night
to
look
for
the
positive
proof
of
floating
wreckage
.
Sotillo
was
more
anxious
than
ever
now
to
enter
the
harbour
without
loss
of
time
;
the
idea
that
he
had
destroyed
the
principal
object
of
his
expedition
was
too
intolerable
to
be
accepted
.
This
feeling
made
the
story
he
had
heard
appear
the
more
incredible
.
Senor
Hirsch
,
after
being
beaten
a
little
for
telling
lies
,
was
thrust
into
the
chartroom
.
But
he
was
beaten
only
a
little
.
His
tale
had
taken
the
heart
out
of
Sotillo
's
Staff
,
though
they
all
repeated
round
their
chief
,
"
Impossible
!
impossible
!
"
with
the
exception
of
the
old
major
,
who
triumphed
gloomily
.
