Lord Jim Joseph Conrad (epub ebook reader .txt) đ
- Author: Joseph Conrad
Book online «Lord Jim Joseph Conrad (epub ebook reader .txt) đ». Author Joseph Conrad
âHe flung his arm out at the night beyond the stone balustrade. I held my peace. He looked at me very steadily, very severe. There could be no mistake: I was being bullied now, and it behoved me to make no sign lest by a gesture or a word I should be drawn into a fatal admission about myself which would have had some bearing on the case. I was not disposed to take any risk of that sort. Donât forget I had him before me, and really he was too much like one of us not to be dangerous. But if you want to know I donât mind telling you that I did, with a rapid glance, estimate the distance to the mass of denser blackness in the middle of the grassplot before the verandah. He exaggerated. I would have landed short by several feetâ âand thatâs the only thing of which I am fairly certain.
âThe last moment had come, as he thought, and he did not move. His feet remained glued to the planks if his thoughts were knocking about loose in his head. It was at this moment too that he saw one of the men around the boat step backwards suddenly, clutch at the air with raised arms, totter and collapse. He didnât exactly fall, he only slid gently into a sitting posture, all hunched up, and with his shoulders propped against the side of the engine-room skylight. âThat was the donkey-man. A haggard, white-faced chap with a ragged moustache. Acted third engineer,â he explained.
âââDead,â I said. We had heard something of that in court.
âââSo they say,â he pronounced with sombre indifference. âOf course I never knew. Weak heart. The man had been complaining of being out of sorts for some time before. Excitement. Overexertion. Devil only knows. Ha! ha! ha! It was easy to see he did not want to die either. Droll, isnât it? May I be shot if he hadnât been fooled into killing himself! Fooledâ âneither more nor less. Fooled into it, by heavens! just as Iâ ââ ⊠Ah! If he had only kept still; if he had only told them to go to the devil when they came to rush him out of his bunk because the ship was sinking! If he had only stood by with his hands in his pockets and called them names!â
âHe got up, shook his fist, glared at me, and sat down.
âââA chance missed, eh?â I murmured.
âââWhy donât you laugh?â he said. âA joke hatched in hell. Weak heart!â ââ ⊠I wish sometimes mine had been.â
âThis irritated me. âDo you?â I exclaimed with deep-rooted irony. âYes! Canât you understand?â he cried. âI donât know what more you could wish for,â I said angrily. He gave me an utterly uncomprehending glance. This shaft had also gone wide of the mark, and he was not the man to bother about stray arrows. Upon my word, he was too unsuspecting; he was not fair game. I was glad that my missile had been thrown awayâ âthat he had not even heard the twang of the bow.
âOf course he could not know at the time the man was dead. The next minuteâ âhis last on boardâ âwas crowded with a tumult of events and sensations which beat about him like the sea upon a rock. I use the simile advisedly, because from his relation I am forced to believe he had preserved through it all a strange illusion of passiveness, as though he had not acted but had suffered himself to be handled by the infernal powers who had selected him for the victim of their practical joke. The first thing that came to him was the grinding surge of the heavy davits swinging out at lastâ âa jar which seemed to enter his body from the deck through the soles of his feet, and travel up his spine to the crown of his head. Then, the squall being very near now, another and a heavier swell lifted the passive hull in a threatening heave that checked his breath, while his brain and his heart together were pierced as with daggers by panic-stricken screams. âLet go! For Godâs sake, let go! Let go! Sheâs going.â Following upon that the boat-falls ripped through the blocks, and a lot of men began to talk in startled tones under the awnings. âWhen these beggars did break out, their yelps were enough to wake the dead,â he said. Next, after the splashing shock of the boat literally dropped in the water, came the hollow noises of stamping and tumbling in her, mingled with confused shouts: âUnhook! Unhook! Shove! Unhook! Shove for your life! Hereâs the squall down on us.â ââ âŠâ He heard, high above his head, the faint muttering of the wind; he heard below his feet a cry of pain. A lost voice alongside started cursing a swivel hook. The ship began to buzz fore and aft like a disturbed hive, and, as quietly as he was telling me of all thisâ âbecause just then he was very quiet in attitude, in face, in voiceâ âhe went on to say without the slightest warning as it were, âI stumbled over his legs.â
âThis was the first I heard of his having moved at all. I could not restrain a grunt of surprise. Something had started him off at last, but of the exact moment, of the cause that tore him out of his immobility, he knew no more than the uprooted tree knows of the wind that laid it low. All this had come to him: the sounds, the sights, the legs
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