some reminiscences-第21节

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it。　　That　man　did　not　understand　his　opportunities。　　However；　I



thanked　him　at　some　length。







〃You　see；〃　he　interrupted　abruptly　in　a　very　peculiar　tone；　〃the



worst　of　this　country　is　that　one　is　not　able　to　realise。　。　。it's



impossible　to　realise。　。　。〃　　His　voice　sank　into　a　languid



mutter。　　〃And　when　one　has　very　large　interests。　。　。very



important　interests。　。　。〃　he　finished　faintly。　。　。〃up　the　river。〃







We　looked　at　each　other。　　He　astonished　me　by　giving　a　start　and



making　a　very　queer　grimace。







〃Well；　I　must　be　off；〃　he　burst　out　hurriedly。　　〃So　long！〃







At　the　moment　of　stepping　over　the　gangway　he　checked　himself



though；　to　give　me　a　mumbled　invitation　to　dine　at　his　house　that



evening　with　my　captain；　an　invitation　which　I　accepted。　　I　don't



think　it　could　have　been　possible　for　me　to　refuse。







I　like　the　worthy　folk　who　will　talk　to　you　of　the　exercise　of



free　will　〃at　any　rate　for　practical　purposes。〃　　Free；　is　it？



For　practical　purposes！　　Bosh！　　How　could　I　have　refused　to　dine



with　that　man？　　I　did　not　refuse　simply　because　I　could　not



refuse。　　Curiosity；　a　healthy　desire　for　a　change　of　cooking；



common　civility；　the　talk　and　the　smiles　of　the　previous　twenty



days；　every　condition　of　my　existence　at　that　moment　and　place



made　irresistibly　for　acceptance；　and；　crowning　all　that；　there



was　the　ignorance；　the　ignorance；　I　say；　the　fatal　want　of



foreknowledge　to　counter…balance　these　imperative　conditions　of



the　problem。　　A　refusal　would　have　appeared　perverse　and　insane。



Nobody　unless　a　surly　lunatic　would　have　refused。　　But　if　I　had



not　got　to　know　Almayer　pretty　well　it　is　almost　certain　there



would　never　have　been　a　line　of　mine　in　print。







I　accepted　thenand　I　am　paying　yet　the　price　of　my　sanity。　　The



possessor　of　the　only　flock　of　geese　on　the　East　Coast　is



responsible　for　the　existence　of　some　fourteen　volumes；　so　far。



The　number　of　geese　he　had　called　into　being　under　adverse



climatic　conditions　was　considerably　more　than　fourteen。　　The



tale　of　volumes　will　never　overtake　the　counting　of　heads；　I　am



safe　to　say；　but　my　ambitions　point　not　exactly　that　way；　and



whatever　the　pangs　the　toil　of　writing　has　cost　me　I　have　always



thought　kindly　of　Almayer。







I　wonder；　had　he　known　anything　of　it；　what　his　attitude　would



have　been？　　This　is　something　not　to　be　discovered　in　this　world。



But　if　we　ever　meet　in　the　Elysian　Fieldswhere　I　cannot　depict



him　to　myself　otherwise　than　attended　in　the　distance　by　his



flock　of　geese　（birds　sacred　to　Jupiter）and　he　addresses　me　in



the　stillness　of　that　passionless　region；　neither　light　nor



darkness；　neither　sound　nor　silence；　and　heaving　endlessly　with



billowy　mists　from　the　impalpable　multitudes　of　the　swarming



dead；　I　think　I　know　what　answer　to　make。







I　would　say；　after　listening　courteously　to　the　unvibrating　tone



of　his　measured　remonstrances；　which　should　not　disturb；　of



course；　the　solemn　eternity　of　stillness　in　the　leastI　would



say　something　like　this：







〃It　is　true；　Almayer；　that　in　the　world　below　I　have　converted



your　name　to　my　own　uses。　　But　that　is　a　very　small　larceny。



What's　in　a　name；　O　Shade？　　If　so　much　of　your　old　mortal



weakness　clings　to　you　yet　as　to　make　you　feel　aggrieved　（it　was



the　note　of　your　earthly　voice；　Almayer）；　then；　I　entreat　you；



seek　speech　without　delay　with　our　sublime　fellow…Shadewith　him



who；　in　his　transient　existence　as　a　poet；　commented　upon　the



smell　of　the　rose。　　He　will　comfort　you。　　You　came　to　me　stripped



of　all　prestige　by　men's　queer　smiles　and　the　disrespectful



chatter　of　every　vagrant　trader　in　the　Islands。　　Your　name　was



the　common　property　of　the　winds：　　it；　as　it　were；　floated　naked



over　the　waters　about　the　Equator。　　I　wrapped　round　its



unhonoured　form　the　royal　mantle　of　the　tropics　and　have　essayed



to　put　into　the　hollow　sound　the　very　anguish　of　paternityfeats



which　you　did　not　demand　from　mebut　remember　that　all　the　toil



and　all　the　pain　were　mine。　　In　your　earthly　life　you　haunted　me；



Almayer。　　Consider　that　this　was　taking　a　great　liberty。　　Since



you　were　always　complaining　of　being　lost　to　the　world；　you



should　remember　that　if　I　had　not　believed　enough　in　your



existence　to　let　you　haunt　my　rooms　in　Bessborough　Gardens；　you



would　have　been　much　more　lost。　　You　affirm　that　had　I　been



capable　of　looking　at　you　with　a　more　perfect　detachment　and　a



greater　simplicity；　I　might　have　perceived　better　the　inward



marvellousness　which；　you　insist；　attended　your　career　upon　that



tiny　pin…point　of　light；　hardly　visible　far；　far　below　us；　where



both　our　graves　lie。　　No　doubt！　　But　reflect；　O　complaining



Shade！　that　this　was　not　so　much　my　fault　as　your　crowning



misfortune。　　I　believed　in　you　in　the　only　way　it　was　possible



for　me　to　believe。　　It　was　not　worthy　of　your　merits？　　So　be　it。



But　you　were　always　an　unlucky　man；　Almayer。　　Nothing　was　ever



quite　worthy　of　you。　　What　made　you　so　real　to　me　was　that　you



held　this　lofty　theory　with　some　force　of　conviction　and　with　an



admirable　consistency。〃







It　is　with　some　such　words　translated　into　the　proper　shadowy



expressions　that　I　am　prepared　to　placate　Almayer　in　the　Elysian



Abode　of　Shades；　since　it　has　come　to　pass　that　having　parted



many　years　ago；　we　are　never　to　meet　again　in　this　world。















Chapter　V。







In　the　career　of　the　most　unliterary　of　writers；　in　the　sense



that　literary　ambition　had　never　entered　the　world　of　his



imagination；　the　coming　into　existence　of　the　first　book　is　quite



an　inexplicable　event。　　In　my　own　case　I　cannot　trace　it　back　to



any　mental　or　psychological　cause　which　one　could　point　out　and



hold　to。　　The　greatest　of　my　gifts　being　a　consummate　capacity



for　doing　nothing；　I　cannot　even　point　to　boredom　as　a　rational



stimulus　for　taking　up　a　pen。　　The　pen　at　any　rate　was　there；　and



there　is　nothing　wonderful　in　that。　　Everybody　keeps　a　pen　（the



cold　steel　of　our　days）　in　his　rooms　in　this　enlightened　age　of



penny　stamps　and　halfpenny　postcards。　　In　fact；　this　was　the



epoch　when　by　means　of　postcard　and　pen　Mr。　Gladstone　had　made



the　reputation　of　a　novel　or　two。　　And　I　too　had　a　pen　rolling



about　somewherethe　seldom…used；　the　reluctantly…taken…up　pen　of



a　sailor　ashore；　the　pen　rugged　with　the　dried　ink　of　abandoned



attempts；　of　answers　delayed　longer　than　decency　permitted；　of



letters　begun　with　infinite　reluctance　and　put　off　suddenly　till



next　daytell　next　week　as　likely　as　not！　　The　neglected；



uncared…for　pen；　flung　away　at　the　slightest　provocation；　and



under　the　stress　of　dire　necessity　hunted　for　without　enthusiasm；



in　a　perfunctory；　grumpy　worry；　in　the　〃Where　the　devil　is　the



beastly　thing　gone　to？〃　ungracious　spirit。　　Where　indeed！　　It



might　have　been　reposing　behind　the　sofa　for　a　day　or　so。　　My



landlady's　anaemic　daughter　（as　Ollendorff　would　have　expressed



it）；　though　commendably　neat；　had　a　lordly；　careless　manner　of



approaching　her　domestic　duties。　　Or　it　might　even　be　resting



delicately　poised　on　its　point　by　the　side　of　the　table…leg；　and



when　picked　up　show　a　gaping；　inefficient　beak　which　would　have



discouraged　any　man　of　literary　instincts。　　But　not　me！　　〃Never



mind。　　This　will　do。〃







O　days　without　guile！　　If　anybody　had　told　me　then　that　a　devoted



household；　having　a　generally　exaggerated　idea　of　my　talents　and



importance；　would　be　put　into　a　state　of　tremor　and　flurry　by　the



fuss　I　would　make　because　of　a　suspicion　that　somebody　had



touched　my　sacrosanct　pen　of　authorship；　I　would　have　never



deigned　as　much　as　the　contemptuous　smile　of　unbelief。　　There　are



imaginings　too　unlikely　for　any　kind　of　notice；　too　wild　for



indulgence　itself；　too　absurd　for　a　smile。　　Perhaps；　had　that



seer　of　the　future　been　a　friend；　I　should　have　been　secretly



saddened。　　〃Alas！〃　I　would　have　thought；　looking　at　him　with　an



unmoved　face；　〃the　poor　fellow　is　going　mad。〃







I　would　have　been；　without　doubt；　saddened；　for　in　this　world



where　the　journalists　read　the　signs　of　the　sky；　and　the　wind　of



heaven　itself；　blowing　where　it　listeth；　does　so　under　the



prophetical　management　of　the　Meteorological　Office；　but　where



the　secret　of　human　hearts　cannot　be　captured　either　by　prying　or



praying；　it　was　infinitely　more　likely　that　the　sanest　of　my



friends　should　nurse　the　germ　of　incipient　madness　than　that　I



should　turn　into　a　writer　o