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Chapter 1

           Yes—Ilethimrunon,"Marlowbeganagain,"andthinkwhathepleasedaboutthepowersthatwerebehindme.Idid!Andtherewasnothingbehindme!Therewasnothingbutthatwretched,old,mangledsteamboatIwasleaningagainst,whilehetalkedfluentlyabout‘thenecessityforeverymantogeton.’‘Andwhenonecomesouthere,youconceive,itisnottogazeatthemoon.’Mr.Kurtzwasa‘universalgenius,’butevenageniuswouldfinditeasiertoworkwith‘adequatetools—intelligentmen.’Hedidnotmakebricks—why,therewasaphysicalimpossibilityintheway—asIwaswellaware;andifhedidsecretarialworkforthemanager,itwasbecause‘nosensiblemanrejectswantonlytheconfidenceofhissuperiors.’DidIseeit?Isawit.WhatmoredidIwant?WhatIreallywantedwasrivets,byheaven!Rivets.Togetonwiththework—tostopthehole.RivetsIwanted.Therewerecasesofthemdownatthecoast—cases—piledup—burst—split!Youkickedalooserivetateverysecondstepinthatstation-yardonthehillside.Rivetshadrolledintothegroveofdeath.Youcouldfillyourpocketswithrivetsforthetroubleofstoopingdown—andtherewasn’tonerivettobefoundwhereitwaswanted.Wehadplatesthatwoulddo,butnothingtofastenthemwith.Andeveryweekthemessenger,alongnegro,letter-bagonshoulderandstaffinhand,leftourstationforthecoast.

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