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- Жюль Верн
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- Стр. 45/237
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At
this
moment
,
James
West
,
on
a
hint
from
the
boatswain
,
searched
the
pockets
of
the
dead
man
,
and
took
out
of
them
a
knife
,
some
string
,
an
empty
tobacco
box
,
and
lastly
a
leather
pocket
-
book
furnished
with
a
metallic
pencil
.
“
Give
me
that
,
”
said
the
captain
.
Some
of
the
leaves
were
covered
with
writing
,
almost
entirely
effaced
by
the
damp
.
He
found
,
however
,
some
words
on
the
last
page
which
were
still
legible
,
and
my
emotion
may
be
imagined
when
I
heard
him
read
aloud
in
a
trembling
voice
:
“
The
Jane
.
.
.
Tsalal
island
.
.
.
by
eighty
-
three
.
.
.
There
.
.
.
eleven
years
.
.
.
Captain
.
.
.
five
sailors
surviving
.
.
.
Hasten
to
bring
them
aid
.
”
And
under
these
lines
was
a
name
,
a
signature
,
the
name
of
Patterson
!
Then
I
remembered
!
Patterson
was
the
second
officer
of
the
Jane
,
the
mate
of
that
schooner
which
had
picked
up
Arthur
Pym
and
Dirk
Peters
on
the
wreck
of
the
Grampus
,
the
Jane
having
reached
Tsalal
Island
;
the
Jane
which
was
attacked
by
natives
and
blown
up
in
the
midst
of
those
waters
.
So
then
it
was
all
true
?
Edgar
Poe
’
s
work
was
that
of
an
historian
,
not
a
writer
of
romance
?
Arthur
Gordon
Pym
’
s
journal
had
actually
been
confided
to
him
!
Direct
relations
had
been
established
between
them
!
Arthur
Pym
existed
,
or
rather
he
had
existed
,
he
was
a
real
being
!
And
he
had
died
,
by
a
sudden
and
deplorable
death
under
circumstances
not
revealed
before
he
had
completed
the
narrative
of
his
extraordinary
voyage
.
And
what
parallel
had
he
reached
on
leaving
Tsalal
Island
with
his
companion
,
Dirk
Peters
,
and
how
had
both
of
them
been
restored
to
their
native
land
,
America
?
I
thought
my
head
was
turning
,
that
I
was
going
mad
—
I
who
accused
Captain
Guy
of
being
insane
!
No
!
I
had
not
heard
aright
!
I
had
misunderstood
!
This
was
a
mere
phantom
of
my
fancy
!
And
yet
,
how
was
I
to
reject
the
evidence
found
on
the
body
of
the
mate
of
the
Jane
,
that
Patterson
whose
words
were
supported
by
ascertained
dates
?
And
above
all
,
how
could
I
retain
a
doubt
,
after
James
West
,
who
was
the
most
self
-
possessed
among
us
,
had
succeeded
in
deciphering
the
following
fragments
of
sentences
:
—
“
Drifting
since
the
3rd
of
June
north
of
Tsalal
Island
.
.
.
Still
there
.
.
.
Captain
William
Guy
and
five
of
the
men
of
the
Jane
—
the
piece
of
ice
I
am
on
is
drifting
across
the
iceberg
.
.
.
food
will
soon
fail
me
.
.
.
Since
the
13th
of
June
.
.
.
my
last
resources
exhausted
.
.
.
to
-
day
.
.
.
16th
of
June
.
.
.
I
am
going
to
die
”
So
then
for
nearly
three
months
Patterson
’
s
body
had
lain
on
the
surface
of
this
ice
-
waif
which
we
had
met
on
our
way
from
the
Kerguelens
to
Tristan
d
’
Acunha
!
Ah
!
why
had
we
not
saved
the
mate
of
the
Jane
!
