-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джозеф Конрад
-
- Ностромо
-
- Стр. 225/274
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
With
a
vigorous
and
skilful
effort
he
clambered
over
the
stern
.
The
very
boat
!
No
doubt
of
it
;
no
doubt
whatever
.
It
was
the
dinghy
of
the
lighter
No.
3
--
the
dinghy
left
with
Martin
Decoud
on
the
Great
Isabel
so
that
he
should
have
some
means
to
help
himself
if
nothing
could
be
done
for
him
from
the
shore
.
And
here
she
had
come
out
to
meet
him
empty
and
inexplicable
.
What
had
become
of
Decoud
?
The
Capataz
made
a
minute
examination
.
He
looked
for
some
scratch
,
for
some
mark
,
for
some
sign
.
All
he
discovered
was
a
brown
stain
on
the
gunwale
abreast
of
the
thwart
.
He
bent
his
face
over
it
and
rubbed
hard
with
his
finger
.
Then
he
sat
down
in
the
stern
sheets
,
passive
,
with
his
knees
close
together
and
legs
aslant
.
Streaming
from
head
to
foot
,
with
his
hair
and
whiskers
hanging
lank
and
dripping
and
a
lustreless
stare
fixed
upon
the
bottom
boards
,
the
Capataz
of
the
Sulaco
Cargadores
resembled
a
drowned
corpse
come
up
from
the
bottom
to
idle
away
the
sunset
hour
in
a
small
boat
.
The
excitement
of
his
adventurous
ride
,
the
excitement
of
the
return
in
time
,
of
achievement
,
of
success
,
all
this
excitement
centred
round
the
associated
ideas
of
the
great
treasure
and
of
the
only
other
man
who
knew
of
its
existence
,
had
departed
from
him
.
To
the
very
last
moment
he
had
been
cudgelling
his
brains
as
to
how
he
could
manage
to
visit
the
Great
Isabel
without
loss
of
time
and
undetected
.
For
the
idea
of
secrecy
had
come
to
be
connected
with
the
treasure
so
closely
that
even
to
Barrios
himself
he
had
refrained
from
mentioning
the
existence
of
Decoud
and
of
the
silver
on
the
island
.
The
letters
he
carried
to
the
General
,
however
,
made
brief
mention
of
the
loss
of
the
lighter
,
as
having
its
bearing
upon
the
situation
in
Sulaco
.
In
the
circumstances
,
the
one-eyed
tiger-slayer
,
scenting
battle
from
afar
,
had
not
wasted
his
time
in
making
inquiries
from
the
messenger
.
In
fact
,
Barrios
,
talking
with
Nostromo
,
assumed
that
both
Don
Martin
Decoud
and
the
ingots
of
San
Tome
were
lost
together
,
and
Nostromo
,
not
questioned
directly
,
had
kept
silent
,
under
the
influence
of
some
indefinable
form
of
resentment
and
distrust
.
Let
Don
Martin
speak
of
everything
with
his
own
lips
--
was
what
he
told
himself
mentally
.
And
now
,
with
the
means
of
gaining
the
Great
Isabel
thrown
thus
in
his
way
at
the
earliest
possible
moment
,
his
excitement
had
departed
,
as
when
the
soul
takes
flight
leaving
the
body
inert
upon
an
earth
it
knows
no
more
.
Nostromo
did
not
seem
to
know
the
gulf
.
For
a
long
time
even
his
eyelids
did
not
flutter
once
upon
the
glazed
emptiness
of
his
stare
.
Then
slowly
,
without
a
limb
having
stirred
,
without
a
twitch
of
muscle
or
quiver
of
an
eyelash
,
an
expression
,
a
living
expression
came
upon
the
still
features
,
deep
thought
crept
into
the
empty
stare
--
as
if
an
outcast
soul
,
a
quiet
,
brooding
soul
,
finding
that
untenanted
body
in
its
way
,
had
come
in
stealthily
to
take
possession
.
The
Capataz
frowned
:
and
in
the
immense
stillness
of
sea
,
islands
,
and
coast
,
of
cloud
forms
on
the
sky
and
trails
of
light
upon
the
water
,
the
knitting
of
that
brow
had
the
emphasis
of
a
powerful
gesture
.
Nothing
else
budged
for
a
long
time
;
then
the
Capataz
shook
his
head
and
again
surrendered
himself
to
the
universal
repose
of
all
visible
things
.
Suddenly
he
seized
the
oars
,
and
with
one
movement
made
the
dinghy
spin
round
,
head-on
to
the
Great
Isabel
.
But
before
he
began
to
pull
he
bent
once
more
over
the
brown
stain
on
the
gunwale
.
"
I
know
that
thing
,
"
he
muttered
to
himself
,
with
a
sagacious
jerk
of
the
head
.
"
That
's
blood
.
"
His
stroke
was
long
,
vigorous
,
and
steady
.
Now
and
then
he
looked
over
his
shoulder
at
the
Great
Isabel
,
presenting
its
low
cliff
to
his
anxious
gaze
like
an
impenetrable
face
.
At
last
the
stem
touched
the
strand
.
He
flung
rather
than
dragged
the
boat
up
the
little
beach
.
At
once
,
turning
his
back
upon
the
sunset
,
he
plunged
with
long
strides
into
the
ravine
,
making
the
water
of
the
stream
spurt
and
fly
upwards
at
every
step
,
as
if
spurning
its
shallow
,
clear
,
murmuring
spirit
with
his
feet
.
He
wanted
to
save
every
moment
of
daylight
.
A
mass
of
earth
,
grass
,
and
smashed
bushes
had
fallen
down
very
naturally
from
above
upon
the
cavity
under
the
leaning
tree
.
Decoud
had
attended
to
the
concealment
of
the
silver
as
instructed
,
using
the
spade
with
some
intelligence
.
But
Nostromo
's
half-smile
of
approval
changed
into
a
scornful
curl
of
the
lip
by
the
sight
of
the
spade
itself
flung
there
in
full
view
,
as
if
in
utter
carelessness
or
sudden
panic
,
giving
away
the
whole
thing
.
Ah
!
They
were
all
alike
in
their
folly
,
these
hombres
finos
that
invented
laws
and
governments
and
barren
tasks
for
the
people
.
