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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Ностромо
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- Стр. 212/274
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Silent
in
inhospitable
darkness
,
the
Casa
Viola
seemed
to
have
changed
its
nature
;
his
home
appeared
to
repel
him
with
an
air
of
hopeless
and
inimical
mystery
.
The
doctor
said
--
"
You
will
be
safe
there
.
Go
in
,
Capataz
.
"
"
How
can
I
go
in
?
"
Nostromo
seemed
to
ask
himself
in
a
low
,
inward
tone
.
"
She
can
not
unsay
what
she
said
,
and
I
can
not
undo
what
I
have
done
.
"
"
I
tell
you
it
is
all
right
.
Viola
is
all
alone
in
there
.
I
looked
in
as
I
came
out
of
the
town
.
You
will
be
perfectly
safe
in
that
house
till
you
leave
it
to
make
your
name
famous
on
the
Campo
.
I
am
going
now
to
arrange
for
your
departure
with
the
engineer-in-chief
,
and
I
shall
bring
you
news
here
long
before
daybreak
.
"
Dr.
Monygham
,
disregarding
,
or
perhaps
fearing
to
penetrate
the
meaning
of
Nostromo
's
silence
,
clapped
him
lightly
on
the
shoulder
,
and
starting
off
with
his
smart
,
lame
walk
,
vanished
utterly
at
the
third
or
fourth
hop
in
the
direction
of
the
railway
track
.
Arrested
between
the
two
wooden
posts
for
people
to
fasten
their
horses
to
,
Nostromo
did
not
move
,
as
if
he
,
too
,
had
been
planted
solidly
in
the
ground
.
At
the
end
of
half
an
hour
he
lifted
his
head
to
the
deep
baying
of
the
dogs
at
the
railway
yards
,
which
had
burst
out
suddenly
,
tumultuous
and
deadened
as
if
coming
from
under
the
plain
.
That
lame
doctor
with
the
evil
eye
had
got
there
pretty
fast
.
Step
by
step
Nostromo
approached
the
Albergo
d'Italia
Una
,
which
he
had
never
known
so
lightless
,
so
silent
,
before
.
The
door
,
all
black
in
the
pale
wall
,
stood
open
as
he
had
left
it
twenty-four
hours
before
,
when
he
had
nothing
to
hide
from
the
world
.
He
remained
before
it
,
irresolute
,
like
a
fugitive
,
like
a
man
betrayed
.
Poverty
,
misery
,
starvation
!
Where
had
he
heard
these
words
?
The
anger
of
a
dying
woman
had
prophesied
that
fate
for
his
folly
.
It
looked
as
if
it
would
come
true
very
quickly
.
And
the
leperos
would
laugh
--
she
had
said
.
Yes
,
they
would
laugh
if
they
knew
that
the
Capataz
de
Cargadores
was
at
the
mercy
of
the
mad
doctor
whom
they
could
remember
,
only
a
few
years
ago
,
buying
cooked
food
from
a
stall
on
the
Plaza
for
a
copper
coin
--
like
one
of
themselves
.
At
that
moment
the
notion
of
seeking
Captain
Mitchell
passed
through
his
mind
.
He
glanced
in
the
direction
of
the
jetty
and
saw
a
small
gleam
of
light
in
the
O.S.N.
Company
's
building
.
The
thought
of
lighted
windows
was
not
attractive
.
Two
lighted
windows
had
decoyed
him
into
the
empty
Custom
House
,
only
to
fall
into
the
clutches
of
that
doctor
.
No
!
He
would
not
go
near
lighted
windows
again
on
that
night
.
Captain
Mitchell
was
there
.
And
what
could
he
be
told
?
That
doctor
would
worm
it
all
out
of
him
as
if
he
were
a
child
.
On
the
threshold
he
called
out
"
Giorgio
!
"
in
an
undertone
.
Nobody
answered
.
He
stepped
in
.
"
Ola
!
viejo
!
Are
you
there
?
...
"
In
the
impenetrable
darkness
his
head
swam
with
the
illusion
that
the
obscurity
of
the
kitchen
was
as
vast
as
the
Placid
Gulf
,
and
that
the
floor
dipped
forward
like
a
sinking
lighter
.
"
Ola
!
viejo
!
"
he
repeated
,
falteringly
,
swaying
where
he
stood
.
His
hand
,
extended
to
steady
himself
,
fell
upon
the
table
.
Moving
a
step
forward
,
he
shifted
it
,
and
felt
a
box
of
matches
under
his
fingers
.
He
fancied
he
had
heard
a
quiet
sigh
.
He
listened
for
a
moment
,
holding
his
breath
;
then
,
with
trembling
hands
,
tried
to
strike
a
light
.
