Лорд Джим

Chapter 8

           Ishouldthinkhewastoobusywatchingthethreateningslantoftheship,thesuspendedmenacediscoveredinthemidstofthemostperfectsecurity—fascinatedbytheswordhangingbyahairoverhisimaginativehead.

           ‘Nothingintheworldmovedbeforehiseyes,andhecoulddepicttohimselfwithouthindrancethesuddenswingupwardsofthedarksky-line,thesuddentiltupofthevastplainofthesea,theswiftstillrise,thebrutalfling,thegraspoftheabyss,thestrugglewithouthope,thestarlightclosingoverhisheadforeverlikethevaultofatomb—therevoltofhisyounglife—theblackend.Hecould!ByJove!whocouldn’t?Andyoumustrememberhewasafinishedartistinthatpeculiarway,hewasagiftedpoordevilwiththefacultyofswiftandforestallingvision.Thesightsitshowedhimhadturnedhimintocoldstonefromthesolesofhisfeettothenapeofhisneck;buttherewasahotdanceofthoughtsinhishead,adanceoflame,blind,mutethoughts—awhirlofawfulcripples.Didn’tItellyouheconfessedhimselfbeforemeasthoughIhadthepowertobindandtoloose?Heburroweddeep,deep,inthehopeofmyabsolution,whichwouldhavebeenofnogoodtohim.Thiswasoneofthosecaseswhichnosolemndeceptioncanpalliate,wherenomancanhelp;wherehisveryMakerseemstoabandonasinnertohisowndevices.

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