Серце темряви
Chapter 2
Notaveryenthrallingbook;butatthefirstglanceyoucouldseethereasinglenessofintention,anhonestconcernfortherightwayofgoingtowork,whichmadethesehumblepages,thoughtoutsomanyyearsago,luminouswithanotherthanaprofessionallight.Thesimpleoldsailor,withhistalkofchainsandpurchases,mademeforgetthejungleandthepilgrimsinadelicioussensationofhavingcomeuponsomethingunmistakablyreal.Suchabookbeingtherewaswonderfulenough;butstillmoreastoundingwerethenotespencilledinthemargin,andplainlyreferringtothetext.Icouldn’tbelievemyeyes!Theywereincipher!Yes,itlookedlikecipher.Fancyamanluggingwithhimabookofthatdescriptionintothisnowhereandstudyingit—andmakingnotes—incipheratthat!Itwasanextravagantmystery.
"Ihadbeendimlyawareforsometimeofaworryingnoise,andwhenIliftedmyeyesIsawthewood-pilewasgone,andthemanager,aidedbyallthepilgrims,wasshoutingatmefromtheriverside.Islippedthebookintomypocket.Iassureyoutoleaveoffreadingwasliketearingmyselfawayfromtheshelterofanoldandsolidfriendship.
"Istartedthelameengineahead.‘Itmustbethismiserabletrader-thisintruder,’exclaimedthemanager,lookingbackmalevolentlyattheplacewehadleft.‘HemustbeEnglish,’Isaid.‘Itwillnotsavehimfromgettingintotroubleifheisnotcareful,’mutteredthemanagerdarkly.Iobservedwithassumedinnocencethatnomanwassafefromtroubleinthisworld.
