Серце темряви

           ‘Andthepestiferousabsurdityofhistalk,’continuedtheother;‘hebotheredmeenoughwhenhewashere."Eachstationshouldbelikeabeaconontheroadtowardsbetterthings,acentrefortradeofcourse,butalsoforhumanizing,improving,instructing."Conceiveyou—thatass!Andhewantstobemanager!No,it’s—’Herehegotchokedbyexcessiveindignation,andIliftedmyheadtheleastbit.Iwassurprisedtoseehowneartheywere—rightunderme.Icouldhavespatupontheirhats.Theywerelookingontheground,absorbedinthought.Themanagerwasswitchinghislegwithaslendertwig:hissagaciousrelativeliftedhishead.‘Youhavebeenwellsinceyoucameoutthistime?’heasked.Theothergaveastart.‘Who?I?Oh!Likeacharm—likeacharm.Buttherest—oh,mygoodness!Allsick.Theydiesoquick,too,thatIhaven’tthetimetosendthemoutofthecountry—it’sincredible!’‘Hm’m.Justso,’gruntedtheuncle.‘Ah!myboy,trusttothis—Isay,trusttothis.’Isawhimextendhisshortflipperofanarmforagesturethattookintheforest,thecreek,themud,theriver—seemedtobeckonwithadishonouringflourishbeforethesunlitfaceofthelandatreacherousappealtothelurkingdeath,tothehiddenevil,totheprofounddarknessofitsheart.ItwassostartlingthatIleapedtomyfeetandlookedbackattheedgeoftheforest,asthoughIhadexpectedananswerofsomesorttothatblackdisplayofconfidence.Youknowthefoolishnotionsthatcometoonesometimes.