Heart of Darkness Joseph Conrad (novels in english txt) đ
- Author: Joseph Conrad
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âI had no idea why he wanted to be sociable, but as we chatted in there it suddenly occurred to me the fellow was trying to get at somethingâ âin fact, pumping me. He alluded constantly to Europe, to the people I was supposed to know thereâ âputting leading questions as to my acquaintances in the sepulchral city, and so on. His little eyes glittered like mica discsâ âwith curiosityâ âthough he tried to keep up a bit of superciliousness. At first I was astonished, but very soon I became awfully curious to see what he would find out from me. I couldnât possibly imagine what I had in me to make it worth his while. It was very pretty to see how he baffled himself, for in truth my body was full only of chills, and my head had nothing in it but that wretched steamboat business. It was evident he took me for a perfectly shameless prevaricator. At last he got angry, and, to conceal a movement of furious annoyance, he yawned. I rose. Then I noticed a small sketch in oils, on a panel, representing a woman, draped and blindfolded, carrying a lighted torch. The background was sombreâ âalmost black. The movement of the woman was stately, and the effect of the torchlight on the face was sinister.
âIt arrested me, and he stood by civilly, holding an empty half-pint champagne bottle (medical comforts) with the candle stuck in it. To my question he said Mr. Kurtz had painted thisâ âin this very station more than a year agoâ âwhile waiting for means to go to his trading post. âTell me, pray,â said I, âwho is this Mr. Kurtz?â
âââThe chief of the Inner Station,â he answered in a short tone, looking away. âMuch obliged,â I said, laughing. âAnd you are the brickmaker of the Central Station. Everyone knows that.â He was silent for a while. âHe is a prodigy,â he said at last. âHe is an emissary of pity and science and progress, and devil knows what else. We want,â he began to declaim suddenly, âfor the guidance of the cause entrusted to us by Europe, so to speak, higher intelligence, wide sympathies, a singleness of purpose.â âWho says that?â I asked. âLots of them,â he replied. âSome even write that; and so he comes here, a special being, as you ought to know.â âWhy ought I to know?â I interrupted, really surprised. He paid no attention. âYes. Today he is chief of the best station, next year he will be assistant-manager, two years more andâ ââ ⊠but I daresay you know what he will be in two yearsâ time. You are of the new gangâ âthe gang of virtue. The same people who sent him specially also recommended you. Oh, donât say no. Iâve my own eyes to trust.â Light dawned upon me. My dear auntâs influential acquaintances were producing an unexpected effect upon that young man. I nearly burst into a laugh. âDo you read the Companyâs confidential correspondence?â I asked. He hadnât a word to say. It was great fun. âWhen Mr. Kurtz,â I continued, severely, âis General Manager, you wonât have the opportunity.â
âHe blew the candle out suddenly, and we went outside. The moon had risen. Black figures strolled about listlessly, pouring water on the glow, whence proceeded a sound of hissing; steam ascended in the moonlight, the beaten nigger groaned somewhere. âWhat a row the brute makes!â said the indefatigable man with the moustaches, appearing near us. âServe him right. Transgressionâ âpunishmentâ âbang! Pitiless, pitiless. Thatâs the only way. This will prevent all conflagrations for the future. I was just telling the managerâ ââ âŠâ He noticed my companion, and became crestfallen all at once. âNot in bed yet,â he said, with a kind of servile heartiness; âitâs so natural. Ha! Dangerâ âagitation.â He vanished. I went on to the riverside, and the other followed me. I heard a scathing murmur at my ear, âHeap of muffsâ âgo to.â The pilgrims could be seen in knots gesticulating, discussing. Several had still their staves in their hands. I verily believe they took these sticks to bed with them. Beyond the fence the forest stood up spectrally in the moonlight, and through that dim stir, through the faint sounds of that lamentable courtyard, the silence of the land went home to oneâs very heartâ âits mystery, its greatness, the amazing reality of its concealed life. The hurt nigger moaned feebly somewhere near by, and then fetched a deep sigh that made me mend my pace away from there. I felt a hand introducing itself under my arm. âMy dear sir,â said the fellow, âI donât want to be misunderstood, and especially by you, who will see Mr. Kurtz long before I can have that pleasure. I wouldnât like him to get a false idea of my disposition.â ââ âŠâ
âI let him run on, this papier-mĂąchĂ© Mephistopheles, and it seemed to me that if I tried I could poke my forefinger through him, and would find nothing inside but a little loose dirt, maybe. He, donât you see, had been planning to be assistant-manager by and by under the present man, and I could see that the coming of that Kurtz had upset them both not a little. He talked precipitately, and I did not try to stop him. I had my shoulders against the wreck of my steamer, hauled up on the slope like a carcass of some big river animal. The smell of mud, of primeval mud, by Jove! was in my nostrils, the high stillness of primeval forest was
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