Крижаний сфінкс
Chapter XVII. And Pym
”
And,whileHuntpassedhishandoverhisbrow,asthoughtocollecthismemoryoffar-offthings,IobservedtoCaptainLenGuy,—
“Thereissomethingverysingularintheinterventionofthisman,ifindeedhebenotmad.”
Atmywordstheboatswainshookhishead,forhedidnotbelieveHunttobeinhisrightmind.
Thelatterunderstoodthisshakeoftheboatswain’shead,andcriedoutinaharshtone,—
“No,notmad.Andmadmenarerespectedontheprairies,eveniftheyarenotbelieved.AndI—Imustbebelieved.No,no,no!Pymisnotdead!”
“EdgarPoeassertsthatheis,”Ireplied.
“Yes,Iknow,EdgarPoeofBaltimore.But—heneversawpoorPym,never,never.”
“What!”exclaimedCaptainLenGuy;“thetwomenwerenotacquainted?”
“No!”
“AnditwasnotArthurPymhimselfwhorelatedhisadventurestoEdgarPoe?”
“No,captain,no!He,belowthere,atBaltimore,hadonlythenoteswrittenbyPymfromthedaywhenhehidhimselfonboardtheGrampustotheverylasthour—thelast—understandmethelast.”
“Who,then,broughtbackthatjournal?”askedCaptainLenGuy,asheseizedHunt’shand.
“ItwasPym’scompanion,hewholovedhim,hispoorPym,likeason.ItwasDirkPeters,thehalf-breed,whocamebackalonefromthere—beyond.”
“Thehalf-breed,DirkPeters!”Iexclaimed.
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.
