"They had come together unavoidably, like two ships becalmed near each other, and lay rubbing sides at last. I suppose Kurtz wanted an audience, because on a certain occasion, when encamped in the forest, they had talked all night, or more probably Kurtz had talked. 'We talked of everything,' he said, quite transported at the recollection. 'I forgot there was such a thing as sleep. The night did not seem to last an hour. Everything! Everything!... Of love, too.' 'Ah, he talked to you of love!' I said, much amused. 'It isn't what you think,' he cried, almost passionately21. 'It was in general. He made me see things—things.'
"He threw his arms up. We were on deck at the time, and the headman of my wood-cutters, lounging near by, turned upon him his heavy and glittering eyes. I looked around, and I don't know why, but I assure you that never, never before, did this land, this river, this jungle, the very arch of this blazing sky, appear to me so hopeless and so dark, so impenetrable to human thought, so pitiless to human weakness. 'And, ever since, you have been with him, of course?' I said.
"On the contrary. It appears their intercourse22 had been very much broken by various causes. He had, as he informed me proudly, managed to nurse Kurtz through two illnesses (he alluded23 to it as you would to some risky24 feat), but as a rule Kurtz wandered alone, far in the depths of the forest. 'Very often coming to this station, I had to wait days and days before he would turn up,' he said. 'Ah, it was worth waiting for!—sometimes.' 'What was he doing? exploring or what?' I asked. 'Oh, yes, of course'; he had discovered lots of villages, a lake, too—he did not know exactly in what direction; it was dangerous to inquire too much—but mostly his expeditions had been for ivory. 'But he had no goods to trade with by that time,' I objected. 'There's a good lot of cartridges25 left even yet,' he answered, looking away. 'To speak plainly, he raided the country,' I said. He nodded. 'Not alone, surely!' He muttered something about the villages round that lake. 'Kurtz got the tribe to follow him, did he?' I suggested. He fidgeted a little. 'They adored him,' he said. The tone of these words was so extraordinary that I looked at him searchingly. It was curious to see his mingled26 eagerness and reluctance27 to speak of Kurtz. The man filled his life, occupied his thoughts, swayed his emotions. 'What can you expect?' he burst out; 'he came to them with thunder and lightning, you know—and they had never seen anything like it—and very terrible. He could be very terrible. You can't judge Mr. Kurtz as you would an ordinary man. No, no, no! Now—just to give you an idea—I don't mind telling you, he wanted to shoot me, too, one day—but I don't judge him.' 'Shoot you!' I cried 'What for?' 'Well, I had a small lot of ivory the chief of that village near my house gave me. You see I used to shoot game for them. Well, he wanted it, and wouldn't hear reason. He declared he would shoot me unless I gave him the ivory and then cleared out of the country, because he could do so, and had a fancy for it, and there was nothing on earth to prevent him killing28 whom he jolly well pleased. And it was true, too. I gave him the ivory. What did I care! But I didn't clear out. No, no. I couldn't leave him. I had to be careful, of course, till we got friendly again for a time. He had his second illness then. Afterwards I had to keep out of the way; but I didn't mind. He was living for the most part in those villages on the lake. When he came down to the river, sometimes he would take to me, and sometimes it was better for me to be careful. This man suffered too much. He hated all this, and somehow he couldn't get away. When I had a chance I begged him to try and leave while there was time; I offered to go back with him. And he would say yes, and then he would remain; go off on another ivory hunt; disappear for weeks; forget himself amongst these people—forget himself—you know.' 'Why! he's mad,' I said. He protested indignantly. Mr. Kurtz couldn't be mad. If I had heard him talk, only two days ago, I wouldn't dare hint at such a thing.... I had taken up my binoculars29 while we talked, and was looking at the shore, sweeping30 the limit of the forest at each side and at the back of the house. The consciousness of there being people in that bush, so silent, so quiet—as silent and quiet as the ruined house on the hill—made me uneasy. There was no sign on the face of nature of this amazing tale that was not so much told as suggested to me in desolate31 exclamations32, completed by shrugs33, in interrupted phrases, in hints ending in deep sighs. The woods were unmoved, like a mask—heavy, like the closed door of a prison—they looked with their air of hidden knowledge, of patient expectation, of unapproachable silence. The Russian was explaining to me that it was only lately that Mr. Kurtz had come down to the river, bringing along with him all the fighting men of that lake tribe. He had been absent for several months—getting himself adored, I suppose—and had come down unexpectedly, with the intention to all appearance of making a raid either across the river or down stream. Evidently the appetite for more ivory had got the better of the—what shall I say?—less material aspirations35. However he had got much worse suddenly. 'I heard he was lying helpless, and so I came up—took my chance,' said the Russian. 'Oh, he is bad, very bad.' I directed my glass to the house. There were no signs of life, but there was the ruined roof, the long mud wall peeping above the grass, with three little square window-holes, no two of the same size; all this brought within reach of my hand, as it were. And then I made a brusque movement, and one of the remaining posts of that vanished fence leaped up in the field of my glass. You remember I told you I had been struck at the distance by certain attempts at ornamentation, rather remarkable36 in the ruinous aspect of the place. Now I had suddenly a nearer view, and its first result was to make me throw my head back as if before a blow. Then I went carefully from post to post with my glass, and I saw my mistake. These round knobs were not ornamental37 but symbolic38; they were expressive39 and puzzling, striking and disturbing—food for thought and also for vultures if there had been any looking down from the sky; but at all events for such ants as were industrious40 enough to ascend41 the pole. They would have been even more impressive, those heads on the stakes, if their faces had not been turned to the house. Only one, the first I had made out, was facing my way. I was not so shocked as you may think. The start back I had given was really nothing but a movement of surprise. I had expected to see a knob of wood there, you know. I returned deliberately42 to the first I had seen—and there it was, black, dried, sunken, with closed eyelids—a head that seemed to sleep at the top of that pole, and, with the shrunken dry lips showing a narrow white line of the teeth, was smiling, too, smiling continuously at some endless and jocose43 dream of that eternal slumber44.
"I am not disclosing any trade secrets. In fact, the manager said afterwards that Mr. Kurtz's methods had ruined the district. I have no opinion on that point, but I want you clearly to understand that there was nothing exactly profitable in these heads being there. They only showed that Mr. Kurtz lacked restraint in the gratification of his various lusts45, that there was something wanting in him—some small matter which, when the pressing need arose, could not be found under his magnificent eloquence46. Whether he knew of this deficiency himself I can't say. I think the knowledge came to him at last—only at the very last. But the wilderness had found him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance47 for the fantastic invasion. I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude—and the whisper had proved irresistibly48 fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core.... I put down the glass, and the head that had appeared near enough to be spoken to seemed at once to have leaped away from me into inaccessible50 distance.
"The admirer of Mr. Kurtz was a bit crestfallen51. In a hurried, indistinct voice he began to assure me he had not dared to take these—say, symbols—down. He was not afraid of the natives; they would not stir till Mr. Kurtz gave the word. His ascendancy52 was extraordinary. The camps of these people surrounded the place, and the chiefs came every day to see him. They would crawl.... 'I don't want to know anything of the ceremonies used when approaching Mr. Kurtz,' I shouted. Curious, this feeling that came over me that such details would be more intolerable than those heads drying on the stakes under Mr. Kurtz's windows. After all, that was only a savage53 sight, while I seemed at one bound to have been transported into some lightless region of subtle horrors, where pure, uncomplicated savagery54 was a positive relief, being something that had a right to exist—obviously—in the sunshine. The young man looked at me with surprise. I suppose it did not occur to him that Mr. Kurtz was no idol55 of mine. He forgot I hadn't heard any of these splendid monologues56 on, what was it? on love, justice, conduct of life—or what not. If it had come to crawling before Mr. Kurtz, he crawled as much as the veriest savage of them all. I had no idea of the conditions, he said: these heads were the heads of rebels. I shocked him excessively by laughing. Rebels! What would be the next definition I was to hear? There had been enemies, criminals, workers—and these were rebels. Those rebellious57 heads looked very subdued58 to me on their sticks. 'You don't know how such a life tries a man like Kurtz,' cried Kurtz's last disciple59. 'Well, and you?' I said. 'I! I! I am a simple man. I have no great thoughts. I want nothing from anybody. How can you compare me to...?' His feelings were too much for speech, and suddenly he broke down. 'I don't understand,' he groaned60. 'I've been doing my best to keep him alive, and that's enough. I had no hand in all this. I have no abilities. There hasn't been a drop of medicine or a mouthful of invalid61 food for months here. He was shamefully63 abandoned. A man like this, with such ideas. Shamefully! Shamefully! I—I—haven't slept for the last ten nights...'
"His voice lost itself in the calm of the evening. The long shadows of the forest had slipped downhill while we talked, had gone far beyond the ruined hovel, beyond the symbolic row of stakes. All this was in the gloom, while we down there were yet in the sunshine, and the stretch of the river abreast64 of the clearing glittered in a still and dazzling splendour, with a murky65 and overshadowed bend above and below. Not a living soul was seen on the shore. The bushes did not rustle66.
"Suddenly round the corner of the house a group of men appeared, as though they had come up from the ground. They waded68 waist-deep in the grass, in a compact body, bearing an improvised69 stretcher in their midst. Instantly, in the emptiness of the landscape, a cry arose whose shrillness70 pierced the still air like a sharp arrow flying straight to the very heart of the land; and, as if by enchantment71, streams of human beings—of naked human beings—with spears in their hands, with bows, with shields, with wild glances and savage movements, were poured into the clearing by the dark-faced and pensive72 forest. The bushes shook, the grass swayed for a time, and then everything stood still in attentive73 immobility.
"'Now, if he does not say the right thing to them we are all done for,' said the Russian at my elbow. The knot of men with the stretcher had stopped, too, halfway74 to the steamer, as if petrified75. I saw the man on the stretcher sit up, lank76 and with an uplifted arm, above the shoulders of the bearers. 'Let us hope that the man who can talk so well of love in general will find some particular reason to spare us this time,' I said. I resented bitterly the absurd danger of our situation, as if to be at the mercy of that atrocious phantom77 had been a dishonouring78 necessity. I could not hear a sound, but through my glasses I saw the thin arm extended commandingly, the lower jaw79 moving, the eyes of that apparition80 shining darkly far in its bony head that nodded with grotesque81 jerks. Kurtz—Kurtz—that means short in German—don't it? Well, the name was as true as everything else in his life—and death. He looked at least seven feet long. His covering had fallen off, and his body emerged from it pitiful and appalling82 as from a winding-sheet. I could see the cage of his ribs83 all astir, the bones of his arm waving. It was as though an animated84 image of death carved out of old ivory had been shaking its hand with menaces at a motionless crowd of men made of dark and glittering bronze. I saw him open his mouth wide—it gave him a weirdly86 voracious87 aspect, as though he had wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before him. A deep voice reached me faintly. He must have been shouting. He fell back suddenly. The stretcher shook as the bearers staggered forward again, and almost at the same time I noticed that the crowd of savages88 was vanishing without any perceptible movement of retreat, as if the forest that had ejected these beings so suddenly had drawn89 them in again as the breath is drawn in a long aspiration34.
"Some of the pilgrims behind the stretcher carried his arms—two shot-guns, a heavy rifle, and a light revolver-carbine—the thunderbolts of that pitiful Jupiter. The manager bent90 over him murmuring as he walked beside his head. They laid him down in one of the little cabins—just a room for a bed place and a camp-stool or two, you know. We had brought his belated correspondence, and a lot of torn envelopes and open letters littered his bed. His hand roamed feebly amongst these papers. I was struck by the fire of his eyes and the composed languor92 of his expression. It was not so much the exhaustion93 of disease. He did not seem in pain. This shadow looked satiated and calm, as though for the moment it had had its fill of all the emotions.
"He rustled94 one of the letters, and looking straight in my face said, 'I am glad.' Somebody had been writing to him about me. These special recommendations were turning up again. The volume of tone he emitted without effort, almost without the trouble of moving his lips, amazed me. A voice! a voice! It was grave, profound, vibrating, while the man did not seem capable of a whisper. However, he had enough strength in him—factitious no doubt—to very nearly make an end of us, as you shall hear directly.
"The manager appeared silently in the doorway95; I stepped out at once and he drew the curtain after me. The Russian, eyed curiously96 by the pilgrims, was staring at the shore. I followed the direction of his glance.
"Dark human shapes could be made out in the distance, flitting indistinctly against the gloomy border of the forest, and near the river two bronze figures, leaning on tall spears, stood in the sunlight under fantastic head-dresses of spotted97 skins, warlike and still in statuesque repose98. And from right to left along the lighted shore moved a wild and gorgeous apparition of a woman.
"She walked with measured steps, draped in striped and fringed cloths, treading the earth proudly, with a slight jingle99 and flash of barbarous ornaments100. She carried her head high; her hair was done in the shape of a helmet; she had brass101 leggings to the knee, brass wire gauntlets to the elbow, a crimson102 spot on her tawny103 cheek, innumerable necklaces of glass beads104 on her neck; bizarre things, charms, gifts of witch-men, that hung about her, glittered and trembled at every step. She must have had the value of several elephant tusks105 upon her. She was savage and superb, wild-eyed and magnificent; there was something ominous106 and stately in her deliberate progress. And in the hush107 that had fallen suddenly upon the whole sorrowful land, the immense wilderness, the colossal108 body of the fecund109 and mysterious life seemed to look at her, pensive, as though it had been looking at the image of its own tenebrous and passionate20 soul.
"She came abreast of the steamer, stood still, and faced us. Her long shadow fell to the water's edge. Her face had a tragic110 and fierce aspect of wild sorrow and of dumb pain mingled with the fear of some struggling, half-shaped resolve. She stood looking at us without a stir, and like the wilderness itself, with an air of brooding over an inscrutable purpose. A whole minute passed, and then she made a step forward. There was a low jingle, a glint of yellow metal, a sway of fringed draperies, and she stopped as if her heart had failed her. The young fellow by my side growled111. The pilgrims murmured at my back. She looked at us all as if her life had depended upon the unswerving steadiness of her glance. Suddenly she opened her bared arms and threw them up rigid112 above her head, as though in an uncontrollable desire to touch the sky, and at the same time the swift shadows darted113 out on the earth, swept around on the river, gathering114 the steamer into a shadowy embrace. A formidable silence hung over the scene.
"She turned away slowly, walked on, following the bank, and passed into the bushes to the left. Once only her eyes gleamed back at us in the dusk of the thickets115 before she disappeared.
"'If she had offered to come aboard I really think I would have tried to shoot her,' said the man of patches, nervously116. 'I have been risking my life every day for the last fortnight to keep her out of the house. She got in one day and kicked up a row about those miserable117 rags I picked up in the storeroom to mend my clothes with. I wasn't decent. At least it must have been that, for she talked like a fury to Kurtz for an hour, pointing at me now and then. I don't understand the dialect of this tribe. Luckily for me, I fancy Kurtz felt too ill that day to care, or there would have been mischief118. I don't understand.... No—it's too much for me. Ah, well, it's all over now.'
"At this moment I heard Kurtz's deep voice behind the curtain: 'Save me!—save the ivory, you mean. Don't tell me. Save me! Why, I've had to save you. You are interrupting my plans now. Sick! Sick! Not so sick as you would like to believe. Never mind. I'll carry my ideas out yet—I will return. I'll show you what can be done. You with your little peddling119 notions—you are interfering120 with me. I will return. I....'
"The manager came out. He did me the honour to take me under the arm and lead me aside. 'He is very low, very low,' he said. He considered it necessary to sigh, but neglected to be consistently sorrowful. 'We have done all we could for him—haven't we? But there is no disguising the fact, Mr. Kurtz has done more harm than good to the Company. He did not see the time was not ripe for vigorous action. Cautiously, cautiously—that's my principle. We must be cautious yet. The district is closed to us for a time. Deplorable! Upon the whole, the trade will suffer. I don't deny there is a remarkable quantity of ivory—mostly fossil. We must save it, at all events—but look how precarious121 the position is—and why? Because the method is unsound.' 'Do you,' said I, looking at the shore, 'call it "unsound method?"' 'Without doubt,' he exclaimed hotly. 'Don't you?'... 'No method at all,' I murmured after a while. 'Exactly,' he exulted122. 'I anticipated this. Shows a complete want of judgment123. It is my duty to point it out in the proper quarter.' 'Oh,' said I, 'that fellow—what's his name?—the brickmaker, will make a readable report for you.' He appeared confounded for a moment. It seemed to me I had never breathed an atmosphere so vile124, and I turned mentally to Kurtz for relief—positively125 for relief. 'Nevertheless I think Mr. Kurtz is a remarkable man,' I said with emphasis. He started, dropped on me a heavy glance, said very quietly, 'he was,' and turned his back on me. My hour of favour was over; I found myself lumped along with Kurtz as a partisan126 of methods for which the time was not ripe: I was unsound! Ah! but it was something to have at least a choice of nightmares.
"I had turned to the wilderness really, not to Mr. Kurtz, who, I was ready to admit, was as good as buried. And for a moment it seemed to me as if I also were buried in a vast grave full of unspeakable secrets. I felt an intolerable weight oppressing my breast, the smell of the damp earth, the unseen presence of victorious127 corruption128, the darkness of an impenetrable night.... The Russian tapped me on the shoulder. I heard him mumbling129 and stammering130 something about 'brother seaman131—couldn't conceal—knowledge of matters that would affect Mr. Kurtz's reputation.' I waited. For him evidently Mr. Kurtz was not in his grave; I suspect that for him Mr. Kurtz was one of the immortals132. 'Well!' said I at last, 'speak out. As it happens, I am Mr. Kurtz's friend—in a way.'
"He stated with a good deal of formality that had we not been 'of the same profession,' he would have kept the matter to himself without regard to consequences. 'He suspected there was an active ill-will towards him on the part of these white men that—' 'You are right,' I said, remembering a certain conversation I had overheard. 'The manager thinks you ought to be hanged.' He showed a concern at this intelligence which amused me at first. 'I had better get out of the way quietly,' he said earnestly. 'I can do no more for Kurtz now, and they would soon find some excuse. What's to stop them? There's a military post three hundred miles from here.' 'Well, upon my word,' said I, 'perhaps you had better go if you have any friends amongst the savages near by.' 'Plenty,' he said. 'They are simple people—and I want nothing, you know.' He stood biting his lip, then: 'I don't want any harm to happen to these whites here, but of course I was thinking of Mr. Kurtz's reputation—but you are a brother seaman and—' 'All right,' said I, after a time. 'Mr. Kurtz's reputation is safe with me.' I did not know how truly I spoke49.
"He informed me, lowering his voice, that it was Kurtz who had ordered the attack to be made on the steamer. 'He hated sometimes the idea of being taken away—and then again.... But I don't understand these matters. I am a simple man. He thought it would scare you away—that you would give it up, thinking him dead. I could not stop him. Oh, I had an awful time of it this last month.' 'Very well,' I said. 'He is all right now.' 'Ye-e-es,' he muttered, not very convinced apparently133. 'Thanks,' said I; 'I shall keep my eyes open.' 'But quiet-eh?' he urged anxiously. 'It would be awful for his reputation if anybody here—' I promised a complete discretion134 with great gravity. 'I have a canoe and three black fellows waiting not very far. I am off. Could you give me a few Martini-Henry cartridges?' I could, and did, with proper secrecy135. He helped himself, with a wink136 at me, to a handful of my tobacco. 'Between sailors—you know—good English tobacco.' At the door of the pilot-house he turned round—'I say, haven't you a pair of shoes you could spare?' He raised one leg. 'Look.' The soles were tied with knotted strings137 sandalwise under his bare feet. I rooted out an old pair, at which he looked with admiration before tucking it under his left arm. One of his pockets (bright red) was bulging138 with cartridges, from the other (dark blue) peeped 'Towson's Inquiry,' etc., etc. He seemed to think himself excellently well equipped for a renewed encounter with the wilderness. 'Ah! I'll never, never meet such a man again. You ought to have heard him recite poetry—his own, too, it was, he told me. Poetry!' He rolled his eyes at the recollection of these delights. 'Oh, he enlarged my mind!' 'Good-bye,' said I. He shook hands and vanished in the night. Sometimes I ask myself whether I had ever really seen him—whether it was possible to meet such a phenomenon!...
"When I woke up shortly after midnight his warning came to my mind with its hint of danger that seemed, in the starred darkness, real enough to make me get up for the purpose of having a look round. On the hill a big fire burned, illuminating139 fitfully a crooked140 corner of the station-house. One of the agents with a picket141 of a few of our blacks, armed for the purpose, was keeping guard over the ivory; but deep within the forest, red gleams that wavered, that seemed to sink and rise from the ground amongst confused columnar shapes of intense blackness, showed the exact position of the camp where Mr. Kurtz's adorers were keeping their uneasy vigil. The monotonous142 beating of a big drum filled the air with muffled143 shocks and a lingering vibration144. A steady droning sound of many men chanting each to himself some weird85 incantation came out from the black, flat wall of the woods as the humming of bees comes out of a hive, and had a strange narcotic145 effect upon my half-awake senses. I believe I dozed146 off leaning over the rail, till an abrupt147 burst of yells, an overwhelming outbreak of a pent-up and mysterious frenzy148, woke me up in a bewildered wonder. It was cut short all at once, and the low droning went on with an effect of audible and soothing149 silence. I glanced casually150 into the little cabin. A light was burning within, but Mr. Kurtz was not there.
"I think I would have raised an outcry if I had believed my eyes. But I didn't believe them at first—the thing seemed so impossible. The fact is I was completely unnerved by a sheer blank fright, pure abstract terror, unconnected with any distinct shape of physical danger. What made this emotion so overpowering was—how shall I define it?—the moral shock I received, as if something altogether monstrous151, intolerable to thought and odious152 to the soul, had been thrust upon me unexpectedly. This lasted of course the merest fraction of a second, and then the usual sense of commonplace, deadly danger, the possibility of a sudden onslaught and massacre153, or something of the kind, which I saw impending154, was positively welcome and composing. It pacified155 me, in fact, so much that I did not raise an alarm.
"There was an agent buttoned up inside an ulster and sleeping on a chair on deck within three feet of me. The yells had not awakened156 him; he snored very slightly; I left him to his slumbers157 and leaped ashore158. I did not betray Mr. Kurtz—it was ordered I should never betray him—it was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice. I was anxious to deal with this shadow by myself alone—and to this day I don't know why I was so jealous of sharing with any one the peculiar159 blackness of that experience.
"As soon as I got on the bank I saw a trail—a broad trail through the grass. I remember the exultation160 with which I said to myself, 'He can't walk—he is crawling on all-fours—I've got him.' The grass was wet with dew. I strode rapidly with clenched161 fists. I fancy I had some vague notion of falling upon him and giving him a drubbing. I don't know. I had some imbecile thoughts. The knitting old woman with the cat obtruded162 herself upon my memory as a most improper163 person to be sitting at the other end of such an affair. I saw a row of pilgrims squirting lead in the air out of Winchesters held to the hip19. I thought I would never get back to the steamer, and imagined myself living alone and unarmed in the woods to an advanced age. Such silly things—you know. And I remember I confounded the beat of the drum with the beating of my heart, and was pleased at its calm regularity164.
"I kept to the track though—then stopped to listen. The night was very clear; a dark blue space, sparkling with dew and starlight, in which black things stood very still. I thought I could see a kind of motion ahead of me. I was strangely cocksure of everything that night. I actually left the track and ran in a wide semicircle (I verily believe chuckling165 to myself) so as to get in front of that stir, of that motion I had seen—if indeed I had seen anything. I was circumventing166 Kurtz as though it had been a boyish game.
"I came upon him, and, if he had not heard me coming, I would have fallen over him, too, but he got up in time. He rose, unsteady, long, pale, indistinct, like a vapour exhaled167 by the earth, and swayed slightly, misty168 and silent before me; while at my back the fires loomed169 between the trees, and the murmur91 of many voices issued from the forest. I had cut him off cleverly; but when actually confronting him I seemed to come to my senses, I saw the danger in its right proportion. It was by no means over yet. Suppose he began to shout? Though he could hardly stand, there was still plenty of vigour170 in his voice. 'Go away—hide yourself,' he said, in that profound tone. It was very awful. I glanced back. We were within thirty yards from the nearest fire. A black figure stood up, strode on long black legs, waving long black arms, across the glow. It had horns—antelope horns, I think—on its head. Some sorcerer, some witch-man, no doubt: it looked fiendlike enough. 'Do you know what you are doing?' I whispered. 'Perfectly171,' he answered, raising his voice for that single word: it sounded to me far off and yet loud, like a hail through a speaking-trumpet. 'If he makes a row we are lost,' I thought to myself. This clearly was not a case for fisticuffs, even apart from the very natural aversion I had to beat that Shadow—this wandering and tormented172 thing. 'You will be lost,' I said—'utterly lost.' One gets sometimes such a flash of inspiration, you know. I did say the right thing, though indeed he could not have been more irretrievably lost than he was at this very moment, when the foundations of our intimacy174 were being laid—to endure—to endure—even to the end—even beyond.
"'I had immense plans,' he muttered irresolutely175. 'Yes,' said I; 'but if you try to shout I'll smash your head with—' There was not a stick or a stone near. 'I will throttle176 you for good,' I corrected myself. 'I was on the threshold of great things,' he pleaded, in a voice of longing177, with a wistfulness of tone that made my blood run cold. 'And now for this stupid scoundrel—' 'Your success in Europe is assured in any case,' I affirmed steadily178. I did not want to have the throttling179 of him, you understand—and indeed it would have been very little use for any practical purpose. I tried to break the spell—the heavy, mute spell of the wilderness—that seemed to draw him to its pitiless breast by the awakening180 of forgotten and brutal181 instincts, by the memory of gratified and monstrous passions. This alone, I was convinced, had driven him out to the edge of the forest, to the bush, towards the gleam of fires, the throb182 of drums, the drone of weird incantations; this alone had beguiled183 his unlawful soul beyond the bounds of permitted aspirations. And, don't you see, the terror of the position was not in being knocked on the head—though I had a very lively sense of that danger, too—but in this, that I had to deal with a being to whom I could not appeal in the name of anything high or low. I had, even like the niggers, to invoke184 him—himself—his own exalted185 and incredible degradation186. There was nothing either above or below him, and I knew it. He had kicked himself loose of the earth. Confound the man! he had kicked the very earth to pieces. He was alone, and I before him did not know whether I stood on the ground or floated in the air. I've been telling you what we said—repeating the phrases we pronounced—but what's the good? They were common everyday words—the familiar, vague sounds exchanged on every waking day of life. But what of that? They had behind them, to my mind, the terrific suggestiveness of words heard in dreams, of phrases spoken in nightmares. Soul! If anybody ever struggled with a soul, I am the man. And I wasn't arguing with a lunatic either. Believe me or not, his intelligence was perfectly clear—concentrated, it is true, upon himself with horrible intensity187, yet clear; and therein was my only chance—barring, of course, the killing him there and then, which wasn't so good, on account of unavoidable noise. But his soul was mad. Being alone in the wilderness, it had looked within itself, and, by heavens! I tell you, it had gone mad. I had—for my sins, I suppose—to go through the ordeal188 of looking into it myself. No eloquence could have been so withering189 to one's belief in mankind as his final burst of sincerity190. He struggled with himself, too. I saw it—I heard it. I saw the inconceivable mystery of a soul that knew no restraint, no faith, and no fear, yet struggling blindly with itself. I kept my head pretty well; but when I had him at last stretched on the couch, I wiped my forehead, while my legs shook under me as though I had carried half a ton on my back down that hill. And yet I had only supported him, his bony arm clasped round my neck—and he was not much heavier than a child.
"When next day we left at noon, the crowd, of whose presence behind the curtain of trees I had been acutely conscious all the time, flowed out of the woods again, filled the clearing, covered the slope with a mass of naked, breathing, quivering, bronze bodies. I steamed up a bit, then swung down stream, and two thousand eyes followed the evolutions of the splashing, thumping191, fierce river-demon beating the water with its terrible tail and breathing black smoke into the air. In front of the first rank, along the river, three men, plastered with bright red earth from head to foot, strutted192 to and fro restlessly. When we came abreast again, they faced the river, stamped their feet, nodded their horned heads, swayed their scarlet193 bodies; they shook towards the fierce river-demon a bunch of black feathers, a mangy skin with a pendent tail—something that looked a dried gourd194; they shouted periodically together strings of amazing words that resembled no sounds of human language; and the deep murmurs195 of the crowd, interrupted suddenly, were like the responses of some satanic litany.
"We had carried Kurtz into the pilot-house: there was more air there. Lying on the couch, he stared through the open shutter196. There was an eddy197 in the mass of human bodies, and the woman with helmeted head and tawny cheeks rushed out to the very brink198 of the stream. She put out her hands, shouted something, and all that wild mob took up the shout in a roaring chorus of articulated, rapid, breathless utterance199.
"'Do you understand this?' I asked.
"He kept on looking out past me with fiery200, longing eyes, with a mingled expression of wistfulness and hate. He made no answer, but I saw a smile, a smile of indefinable meaning, appear on his colourless lips that a moment after twitched201 convulsively. 'Do I not?' he said slowly, gasping202, as if the words had been torn out of him by a supernatural power.
"I pulled the string of the whistle, and I did this because I saw the pilgrims on deck getting out their rifles with an air of anticipating a jolly lark203. At the sudden screech204 there was a movement of abject205 terror through that wedged mass of bodies. 'Don't! don't you frighten them away,' cried some one on deck disconsolately206. I pulled the string time after time. They broke and ran, they leaped, they crouched207, they swerved208, they dodged209 the flying terror of the sound. The three red chaps had fallen flat, face down on the shore, as though they had been shot dead. Only the barbarous and superb woman did not so much as flinch210, and stretched tragically211 her bare arms after us over the sombre and glittering river.
"And then that imbecile crowd down on the deck started their little fun, and I could see nothing more for smoke.
"The brown current ran swiftly out of the heart of darkness, bearing us down towards the sea with twice the speed of our upward progress; and Kurtz's life was running swiftly, too, ebbing212, ebbing out of his heart into the sea of inexorable time. The manager was very placid213, he had no vital anxieties now, he took us both in with a comprehensive and satisfied glance: the 'affair' had come off as well as could be wished. I saw the time approaching when I would be left alone of the party of 'unsound method.' The pilgrims looked upon me with disfavour. I was, so to speak, numbered with the dead. It is strange how I accepted this unforeseen partnership214, this choice of nightmares forced upon me in the tenebrous land invaded by these mean and greedy phantoms215.
"Kurtz discoursed216. A voice! a voice! It rang deep to the very last. It survived his strength to hide in the magnificent folds of eloquence the barren darkness of his heart. Oh, he struggled! he struggled! The wastes of his weary brain were haunted by shadowy images now—images of wealth and fame revolving217 obsequiously218 round his unextinguishable gift of noble and lofty expression. My Intended, my station, my career, my ideas—these were the subjects for the occasional utterances219 of elevated sentiments. The shade of the original Kurtz frequented the bedside of the hollow sham62, whose fate it was to be buried presently in the mould of primeval earth. But both the diabolic love and the unearthly hate of the mysteries it had penetrated220 fought for the possession of that soul satiated with primitive222 emotions, avid223 of lying fame, of sham distinction, of all the appearances of success and power.
"Sometimes he was contemptibly224 childish. He desired to have kings meet him at railway-stations on his return from some ghastly Nowhere, where he intended to accomplish great things. 'You show them you have in you something that is really profitable, and then there will be no limits to the recognition of your ability,' he would say. 'Of course you must take care of the motives—right motives—always.' The long reaches that were like one and the same reach, monotonous bends that were exactly alike, slipped past the steamer with their multitude of secular225 trees looking patiently after this grimy fragment of another world, the forerunner226 of change, of conquest, of trade, of massacres227, of blessings228. I looked ahead—piloting. 'Close the shutter,' said Kurtz suddenly one day; 'I can't bear to look at this.' I did so. There was a silence. 'Oh, but I will wring229 your heart yet!' he cried at the invisible wilderness.
"We broke down—as I had expected—and had to lie up for repairs at the head of an island. This delay was the first thing that shook Kurtz's confidence. One morning he gave me a packet of papers and a photograph—the lot tied together with a shoe-string. 'Keep this for me,' he said. 'This noxious230 fool' (meaning the manager) 'is capable of prying231 into my boxes when I am not looking.' In the afternoon I saw him. He was lying on his back with closed eyes, and I withdrew quietly, but I heard him mutter, 'Live rightly, die, die...' I listened. There was nothing more. Was he rehearsing some speech in his sleep, or was it a fragment of a phrase from some newspaper article? He had been writing for the papers and meant to do so again, 'for the furthering of my ideas. It's a duty.'
"His was an impenetrable darkness. I looked at him as you peer down at a man who is lying at the bottom of a precipice232 where the sun never shines. But I had not much time to give him, because I was helping233 the engine-driver to take to pieces the leaky cylinders234, to straighten a bent connecting-rod, and in other such matters. I lived in an infernal mess of rust67, filings, nuts, bolts, spanners, hammers, ratchet-drills—things I abominate235, because I don't get on with them. I tended the little forge we fortunately had aboard; I toiled236 wearily in a wretched scrap237-heap—unless I had the shakes too bad to stand.
"One evening coming in with a candle I was startled to hear him say a little tremulously, 'I am lying here in the dark waiting for death.' The light was within a foot of his eyes. I forced myself to murmur, 'Oh, nonsense!' and stood over him as if transfixed.
"Anything approaching the change that came over his features I have never seen before, and hope never to see again. Oh, I wasn't touched. I was fascinated. It was as though a veil had been rent. I saw on that ivory face the expression of sombre pride, of ruthless power, of craven terror—of an intense and hopeless despair. Did he live his life again in every detail of desire, temptation, and surrender during that supreme238 moment of complete knowledge? He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision—he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath:
"'The horror! The horror!'
"I blew the candle out and left the cabin. The pilgrims were dining in the mess-room, and I took my place opposite the manager, who lifted his eyes to give me a questioning glance, which I successfully ignored. He leaned back, serene239, with that peculiar smile of his sealing the unexpressed depths of his meanness. A continuous shower of small flies streamed upon the lamp, upon the cloth, upon our hands and faces. Suddenly the manager's boy put his insolent240 black head in the doorway, and said in a tone of scathing241 contempt:
"'Mistah Kurtz—he dead.'
"All the pilgrims rushed out to see. I remained, and went on with my dinner. I believe I was considered brutally242 callous243. However, I did not eat much. There was a lamp in there—light, don't you know—and outside it was so beastly, beastly dark. I went no more near the remarkable man who had pronounced a judgment upon the adventures of his soul on this earth. The voice was gone. What else had been there? But I am of course aware that next day the pilgrims buried something in a muddy hole.
"And then they very nearly buried me.
"However, as you see, I did not go to join Kurtz there and then. I did not. I remained to dream the nightmare out to the end, and to show my loyalty244 to Kurtz once more. Destiny. My destiny! Droll245 thing life is—that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic246 for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself—that comes too late—a crop of unextinguishable regrets. I have wrestled247 with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of tepid248 scepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary249. If such is the form of ultimate wisdom, then life is a greater riddle250 than some of us think it to be. I was within a hair's breadth of the last opportunity for pronouncement, and I found with humiliation251 that probably I would have nothing to say. This is the reason why I affirm that Kurtz was a remarkable man. He had something to say. He said it. Since I had peeped over the edge myself, I understand better the meaning of his stare, that could not see the flame of the candle, but was wide enough to embrace the whole universe, piercing enough to penetrate221 all the hearts that beat in the darkness. He had summed up—he had judged. 'The horror!' He was a remarkable man. After all, this was the expression of some sort of belief; it had candour, it had conviction, it had a vibrating note of revolt in its whisper, it had the appalling face of a glimpsed truth—the strange commingling252 of desire and hate. And it is not my own extremity253 I remember best—a vision of greyness without form filled with physical pain, and a careless contempt for the evanescence of all things—even of this pain itself. No! It is his extremity that I seem to have lived through. True, he had made that last stride, he had stepped over the edge, while I had been permitted to draw back my hesitating foot. And perhaps in this is the whole difference; perhaps all the wisdom, and all truth, and all sincerity, are just compressed into that inappreciable moment of time in which we step over the threshold of the invisible. Perhaps! I like to think my summing-up would not have been a word of careless contempt. Better his cry—much better. It was an affirmation, a moral victory paid for by innumerable defeats, by abominable254 terrors, by abominable satisfactions. But it was a victory! That is why I have remained loyal to Kurtz to the last, and even beyond, when a long time after I heard once more, not his own voice, but the echo of his magnificent eloquence thrown to me from a soul as translucently255 pure as a cliff of crystal.
"No, they did not bury me, though there is a period of time which I remember mistily256, with a shuddering257 wonder, like a passage through some inconceivable world that had no hope in it and no desire. I found myself back in the sepulchral258 city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch259 a little money from each other, to devour260 their infamous261 cookery, to gulp262 their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant263 and silly dreams. They trespassed264 upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretence265, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew. Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous266 flauntings of folly267 in the face of a danger it is unable to comprehend. I had no particular desire to enlighten them, but I had some difficulty in restraining myself from laughing in their faces so full of stupid importance. I daresay I was not very well at that time. I tottered268 about the streets—there were various affairs to settle—grinning bitterly at perfectly respectable persons. I admit my behaviour was inexcusable, but then my temperature was seldom normal in these days. My dear aunt's endeavours to 'nurse up my strength' seemed altogether beside the mark. It was not my strength that wanted nursing, it was my imagination that wanted soothing. I kept the bundle of papers given me by Kurtz, not knowing exactly what to do with it. His mother had died lately, watched over, as I was told, by his Intended. A clean-shaved man, with an official manner and wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, called on me one day and made inquiries269, at first circuitous270, afterwards suavely271 pressing, about what he was pleased to denominate certain 'documents.' I was not surprised, because I had had two rows with the manager on the subject out there. I had refused to give up the smallest scrap out of that package, and I took the same attitude with the spectacled man. He became darkly menacing at last, and with much heat argued that the Company had the right to every bit of information about its 'territories.' And said he, 'Mr. Kurtz's knowledge of unexplored regions must have been necessarily extensive and peculiar—owing to his great abilities and to the deplorable circumstances in which he had been placed: therefore—' I assured him Mr. Kurtz's knowledge, however extensive, did not bear upon the problems of commerce or administration. He invoked272 then the name of science. 'It would be an incalculable loss if,' etc., etc. I offered him the report on the 'Suppression of Savage Customs,' with the postscriptum torn off. He took it up eagerly, but ended by sniffing273 at it with an air of contempt. 'This is not what we had a right to expect,' he remarked. 'Expect nothing else,' I said. 'There are only private letters.' He withdrew upon some threat of legal proceedings274, and I saw him no more; but another fellow, calling himself Kurtz's cousin, appeared two days later, and was anxious to hear all the details about his dear relative's last moments. Incidentally he gave me to understand that Kurtz had been essentially275 a great musician. 'There was the making of an immense success,' said the man, who was an organist, I believe, with lank grey hair flowing over a greasy276 coat-collar. I had no reason to doubt his statement; and to this day I am unable to say what was Kurtz's profession, whether he ever had any—which was the greatest of his talents. I had taken him for a painter who wrote for the papers, or else for a journalist who could paint—but even the cousin (who took snuff during the interview) could not tell me what he had been—exactly. He was a universal genius—on that point I agreed with the old chap, who thereupon blew his nose noisily into a large cotton handkerchief and withdrew in senile agitation277, bearing off some family letters and memoranda278 without importance. Ultimately a journalist anxious to know something of the fate of his 'dear colleague' turned up. This visitor informed me Kurtz's proper sphere ought to have been politics 'on the popular side.' He had furry279 straight eyebrows280, bristly hair cropped short, an eyeglass on a broad ribbon, and, becoming expansive, confessed his opinion that Kurtz really couldn't write a bit—'but heavens! how that man could talk. He electrified281 large meetings. He had faith—don't you see?—he had the faith. He could get himself to believe anything—anything. He would have been a splendid leader of an extreme party.' 'What party?' I asked. 'Any party,' answered the other. 'He was an—an—extremist.' Did I not think so? I assented282. Did I know, he asked, with a sudden flash of curiosity, 'what it was that had induced him to go out there?' 'Yes,' said I, and forthwith handed him the famous Report for publication, if he thought fit. He glanced through it hurriedly, mumbling all the time, judged 'it would do,' and took himself off with this plunder283.
"Thus I was left at last with a slim packet of letters and the girl's portrait. She struck me as beautiful—I mean she had a beautiful expression. I know that the sunlight can be made to lie, too, yet one felt that no manipulation of light and pose could have conveyed the delicate shade of truthfulness284 upon those features. She seemed ready to listen without mental reservation, without suspicion, without a thought for herself. I concluded I would go and give her back her portrait and those letters myself. Curiosity? Yes; and also some other feeling perhaps. All that had been Kurtz's had passed out of my hands: his soul, his body, his station, his plans, his ivory, his career. There remained only his memory and his Intended—and I wanted to give that up, too, to the past, in a way—to surrender personally all that remained of him with me to that oblivion which is the last word of our common fate. I don't defend myself. I had no clear perception of what it was I really wanted. Perhaps it was an impulse of unconscious loyalty, or the fulfilment of one of those ironic285 necessities that lurk286 in the facts of human existence. I don't know. I can't tell. But I went.
"I thought his memory was like the other memories of the dead that accumulate in every man's life—a vague impress on the brain of shadows that had fallen on it in their swift and final passage; but before the high and ponderous287 door, between the tall houses of a street as still and decorous as a well-kept alley288 in a cemetery289, I had a vision of him on the stretcher, opening his mouth voraciously290, as if to devour all the earth with all its mankind. He lived then before me; he lived as much as he had ever lived—a shadow insatiable of splendid appearances, of frightful291 realities; a shadow darker than the shadow of the night, and draped nobly in the folds of a gorgeous eloquence. The vision seemed to enter the house with me—the stretcher, the phantom-bearers, the wild crowd of obedient worshippers, the gloom of the forests, the glitter of the reach between the murky bends, the beat of the drum, regular and muffled like the beating of a heart—the heart of a conquering darkness. It was a moment of triumph for the wilderness, an invading and vengeful rush which, it seemed to me, I would have to keep back alone for the salvation292 of another soul. And the memory of what I had heard him say afar there, with the horned shapes stirring at my back, in the glow of fires, within the patient woods, those broken phrases came back to me, were heard again in their ominous and terrifying simplicity293. I remembered his abject pleading, his abject threats, the colossal scale of his vile desires, the meanness, the torment173, the tempestuous294 anguish295 of his soul. And later on I seemed to see his collected languid manner, when he said one day, 'This lot of ivory now is really mine. The Company did not pay for it. I collected it myself at a very great personal risk. I am afraid they will try to claim it as theirs though. H'm. It is a difficult case. What do you think I ought to do—resist? Eh? I want no more than justice.'... He wanted no more than justice—no more than justice. I rang the bell before a mahogany door on the first floor, and while I waited he seemed to stare at me out of the glassy panel—stare with that wide and immense stare embracing, condemning296, loathing297 all the universe. I seemed to hear the whispered cry, "The horror! The horror!"
"The dusk was falling. I had to wait in a lofty drawing-room with three long windows from floor to ceiling that were like three luminous298 and bedraped columns. The bent gilt299 legs and backs of the furniture shone in indistinct curves. The tall marble fireplace had a cold and monumental whiteness. A grand piano stood massively in a corner; with dark gleams on the flat surfaces like a sombre and polished sarcophagus. A high door opened—closed. I rose.
"She came forward, all in black, with a pale head, floating towards me in the dusk. She was in mourning. It was more than a year since his death, more than a year since the news came; she seemed as though she would remember and mourn forever. She took both my hands in hers and murmured, 'I had heard you were coming.' I noticed she was not very young—I mean not girlish. She had a mature capacity for fidelity300, for belief, for suffering. The room seemed to have grown darker, as if all the sad light of the cloudy evening had taken refuge on her forehead. This fair hair, this pale visage, this pure brow, seemed surrounded by an ashy halo from which the dark eyes looked out at me. Their glance was guileless, profound, confident, and trustful. She carried her sorrowful head as though she were proud of that sorrow, as though she would say, 'I—I alone know how to mourn for him as he deserves.' But while we were still shaking hands, such a look of awful desolation came upon her face that I perceived she was one of those creatures that are not the playthings of Time. For her he had died only yesterday. And, by Jove! the impression was so powerful that for me, too, he seemed to have died only yesterday—nay, this very minute. I saw her and him in the same instant of time—his death and her sorrow—I saw her sorrow in the very moment of his death. Do you understand? I saw them together—I heard them together. She had said, with a deep catch of the breath, 'I have survived' while my strained ears seemed to hear distinctly, mingled with her tone of despairing regret, the summing up whisper of his eternal condemnation301. I asked myself what I was doing there, with a sensation of panic in my heart as though I had blundered into a place of cruel and absurd mysteries not fit for a human being to behold302. She motioned me to a chair. We sat down. I laid the packet gently on the little table, and she put her hand over it.... 'You knew him well,' she murmured, after a moment of mourning silence.
"'Intimacy grows quickly out there,' I said. 'I knew him as well as it is possible for one man to know another.'
"'And you admired him,' she said. 'It was impossible to know him and not to admire him. Was it?'
"'He was a remarkable man,' I said, unsteadily. Then before the appealing fixity of her gaze, that seemed to watch for more words on my lips, I went on, 'It was impossible not to—'
"'Love him,' she finished eagerly, silencing me into an appalled303 dumbness. 'How true! how true! But when you think that no one knew him so well as I! I had all his noble confidence. I knew him best.'
"'You knew him best,' I repeated. And perhaps she did. But with every word spoken the room was growing darker, and only her forehead, smooth and white, remained illumined by the inextinguishable light of belief and love.
"'You were his friend,' she went on. 'His friend,' she repeated, a little louder. 'You must have been, if he had given you this, and sent you to me. I feel I can speak to you—and oh! I must speak. I want you—you who have heard his last words—to know I have been worthy304 of him.... It is not pride.... Yes! I am proud to know I understood him better than any one on earth—he told me so himself. And since his mother died I have had no one—no one—to—to—'
"I listened. The darkness deepened. I was not even sure whether he had given me the right bundle. I rather suspect he wanted me to take care of another batch305 of his papers which, after his death, I saw the manager examining under the lamp. And the girl talked, easing her pain in the certitude of my sympathy; she talked as thirsty men drink. I had heard that her engagement with Kurtz had been disapproved306 by her people. He wasn't rich enough or something. And indeed I don't know whether he had not been a pauper307 all his life. He had given me some reason to infer that it was his impatience308 of comparative poverty that drove him out there.
"'... Who was not his friend who had heard him speak once?' she was saying. 'He drew men towards him by what was best in them.' She looked at me with intensity. 'It is the gift of the great,' she went on, and the sound of her low voice seemed to have the accompaniment of all the other sounds, full of mystery, desolation, and sorrow, I had ever heard—the ripple309 of the river, the soughing of the trees swayed by the wind, the murmurs of the crowds, the faint ring of incomprehensible words cried from afar, the whisper of a voice speaking from beyond the threshold of an eternal darkness. 'But you have heard him! You know!' she cried.
"'Yes, I know,' I said with something like despair in my heart, but bowing my head before the faith that was in her, before that great and saving illusion that shone with an unearthly glow in the darkness, in the triumphant310 darkness from which I could not have defended her—from which I could not even defend myself.
"'What a loss to me—to us!'—she corrected herself with beautiful generosity311; then added in a murmur, 'To the world.' By the last gleams of twilight312 I could see the glitter of her eyes, full of tears—of tears that would not fall.
"'I have been very happy—very fortunate—very proud,' she went on. 'Too fortunate. Too happy for a little while. And now I am unhappy for—for life.'
"She stood up; her fair hair seemed to catch all the remaining light in a glimmer313 of gold. I rose, too.
"'And of all this,' she went on mournfully, 'of all his promise, and of all his greatness, of his generous mind, of his noble heart, nothing remains—nothing but a memory. You and I—'
"'We shall always remember him,' I said hastily.
"'No!' she cried. 'It is impossible that all this should be lost—that such a life should be sacrificed to leave nothing—but sorrow. You know what vast plans he had. I knew of them, too—I could not perhaps understand—but others knew of them. Something must remain. His words, at least, have not died.'
"'His words will remain,' I said.
"'And his example,' she whispered to herself. 'Men looked up to him—his goodness shone in every act. His example—'
"'True,' I said; 'his example, too. Yes, his example. I forgot that.'
"But I do not. I cannot—I cannot believe—not yet. I cannot believe that I shall never see him again, that nobody will see him again, never, never, never.'
"She put out her arms as if after a retreating figure, stretching them back and with clasped pale hands across the fading and narrow sheen of the window. Never see him! I saw him clearly enough then. I shall see this eloquent314 phantom as long as I live, and I shall see her, too, a tragic and familiar Shade, resembling in this gesture another one, tragic also, and bedecked with powerless charms, stretching bare brown arms over the glitter of the infernal stream, the stream of darkness. She said suddenly very low, 'He died as he lived.'
"'His end,' said I, with dull anger stirring in me, 'was in every way worthy of his life.'
"'And I was not with him,' she murmured. My anger subsided315 before a feeling of infinite pity.
"'Everything that could be done—' I mumbled316.
"'Ah, but I believed in him more than any one on earth—more than his own mother, more than—himself. He needed me! Me! I would have treasured every sigh, every word, every sign, every glance.'
"I felt like a chill grip on my chest. 'Don't,' I said, in a muffled voice.
"'Forgive me. I—I have mourned so long in silence—in silence.... You were with him—to the last? I think of his loneliness. Nobody near to understand him as I would have understood. Perhaps no one to hear....'
"'To the very end,' I said, shakily. 'I heard his very last words....' I stopped in a fright.
"'Repeat them,' she murmured in a heart-broken tone. 'I want—I want—something—something—to—to live with.'
"I was on the point of crying at her, 'Don't you hear them?' The dusk was repeating them in a persistent317 whisper all around us, in a whisper that seemed to swell318 menacingly like the first whisper of a rising wind. 'The horror! The horror!'
"'His last word—to live with,' she insisted. 'Don't you understand I loved him—I loved him—I loved him!'
"I pulled myself together and spoke slowly.
"'The last word he pronounced was—your name.'
"I heard a light sigh and then my heart stood still, stopped dead short by an exulting319 and terrible cry, by the cry of inconceivable triumph and of unspeakable pain. 'I knew it—I was sure!'... She knew. She was sure. I heard her weeping; she had hidden her face in her hands. It seemed to me that the house would collapse320 before I could escape, that the heavens would fall upon my head. But nothing happened. The heavens do not fall for such a trifle. Would they have fallen, I wonder, if I had rendered Kurtz that justice which was his due? Hadn't he said he wanted only justice? But I couldn't. I could not tell her. It would have been too dark—too dark altogether...."
Marlow ceased, and sat apart, indistinct and silent, in the pose of a meditating321 Buddha322. Nobody moved for a time. "We have lost the first of the ebb," said the Director suddenly. I raised my head. The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil323 waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast324 sky—seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.
The End
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1
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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2
absconded
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| v.（尤指逃避逮捕）潜逃，逃跑( abscond的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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3
troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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4
mimes
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| n.指手画脚( mime的名词复数 )；做手势；哑剧；哑剧演员v.指手画脚地表演，用哑剧的形式表演( mime的第三人称单数 ) | |
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5
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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6
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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7
glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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8
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
destitution
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| n.穷困，缺乏，贫穷 | |
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10
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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11
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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12
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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13
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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14
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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15
seduced
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| 诱奸( seduce的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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16
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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17
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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18
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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19
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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20
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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21
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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22
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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23
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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25
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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26
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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27
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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28
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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29
binoculars
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| n.双筒望远镜 | |
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30
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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31
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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32
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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33
shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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34
aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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35
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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36
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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37
ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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38
symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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39
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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40
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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41
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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42
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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43
jocose
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| adj.开玩笑的，滑稽的 | |
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44
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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45
lusts
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| 贪求（lust的第三人称单数形式） | |
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46
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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47
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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48
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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49
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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50
inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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51
crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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52
ascendancy
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| n.统治权，支配力量 | |
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53
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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54
savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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55
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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56
monologues
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| n.（戏剧）长篇独白( monologue的名词复数 )；滔滔不绝的讲话；独角戏 | |
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57
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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58
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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59
disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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60
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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61
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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62
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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63
shamefully
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| 可耻地； 丢脸地； 不体面地； 羞耻地 | |
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64
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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65
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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66
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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67
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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68
waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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70
shrillness
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| 尖锐刺耳 | |
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71
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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72
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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73
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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74
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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75
petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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76
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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77
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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78
dishonouring
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| 使（人、家族等）丧失名誉（dishonour的现在分词形式） | |
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79
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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80
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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81
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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82
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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83
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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84
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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85
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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86
weirdly
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| 古怪地 | |
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87
voracious
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| adj.狼吞虎咽的，贪婪的 | |
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88
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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89
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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90
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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91
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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92
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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93
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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94
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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96
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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97
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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98
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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99
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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100
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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101
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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102
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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103
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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104
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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105
tusks
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| n.（象等动物的）长牙( tusk的名词复数 )；獠牙；尖形物；尖头 | |
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106
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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107
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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108
colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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109
fecund
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| adj.多产的，丰饶的，肥沃的 | |
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110
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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111
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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112
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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113
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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114
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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115
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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116
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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117
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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118
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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119
peddling
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| 忙于琐事的，无关紧要的 | |
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120
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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121
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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122
exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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123
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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124
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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125
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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126
partisan
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| adj.党派性的；游击队的；n.游击队员；党徒 | |
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127
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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128
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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129
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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130
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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131
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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132
immortals
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| 不朽的人物( immortal的名词复数 )； 永生不朽者 | |
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133
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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134
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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135
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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136
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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137
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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138
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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139
illuminating
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| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
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140
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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141
picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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142
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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143
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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144
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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145
narcotic
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| n.麻醉药，镇静剂；adj.麻醉的，催眠的 | |
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146
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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147
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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148
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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149
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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150
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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151
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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152
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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153
massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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154
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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155
pacified
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| 使（某人）安静( pacify的过去式和过去分词 )； 息怒； 抚慰； 在（有战争的地区、国家等）实现和平 | |
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156
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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157
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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158
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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159
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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160
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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161
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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162
obtruded
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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163
improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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164
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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165
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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166
circumventing
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| v.设法克服或避免（某事物），回避( circumvent的现在分词 )；绕过，绕行，绕道旅行 | |
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167
exhaled
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|
| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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168
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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169
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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170
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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171
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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172
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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173
torment
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|
| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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174
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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175
irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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176
throttle
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|
| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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177
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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178
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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179
throttling
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| v.扼杀( throttle的现在分词 )；勒死；使窒息；压制 | |
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180
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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181
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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182
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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183
beguiled
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| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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184
invoke
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| v.求助于(神、法律)；恳求，乞求 | |
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185
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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186
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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187
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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188
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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189
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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190
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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191
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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192
strutted
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| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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193
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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194
gourd
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| n.葫芦 | |
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195
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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196
shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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197
eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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198
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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199
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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200
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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201
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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202
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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203
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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204
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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205
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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206
disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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207
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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208
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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209
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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210
flinch
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| v.畏缩，退缩 | |
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211
tragically
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| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
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212
ebbing
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的现在分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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213
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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214
partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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215
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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216
discoursed
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| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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217
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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218
obsequiously
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219
utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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220
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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221
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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222
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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223
avid
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| adj.热心的；贪婪的；渴望的；劲头十足的 | |
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224
contemptibly
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| adv.卑鄙地，下贱地 | |
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225
secular
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| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
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226
forerunner
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| n.前身，先驱（者），预兆，祖先 | |
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227
massacres
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| 大屠杀( massacre的名词复数 )； 惨败 | |
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228
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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229
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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230
noxious
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| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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231
prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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232
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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233
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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234
cylinders
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| n.圆筒( cylinder的名词复数 )；圆柱；汽缸；（尤指用作容器的）圆筒状物 | |
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235
abominate
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| v.憎恨，厌恶 | |
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236
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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237
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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238
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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239
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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240
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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241
scathing
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|
| adj.（言词、文章）严厉的，尖刻的；不留情的adv.严厉地，尖刻地v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的现在分词) | |
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242
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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243
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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244
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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245
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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246
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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247
wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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248
tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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249
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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250
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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251
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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252
commingling
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| v.混合，掺和，合并( commingle的现在分词 ) | |
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253
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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254
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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255
translucently
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| 半透明的； 透亮的，有光泽的 | |
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256
mistily
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| adv.有雾地，朦胧地，不清楚地 | |
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257
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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258
sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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259
filch
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| v.偷窃 | |
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260
devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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261
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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262
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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263
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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264
trespassed
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| （trespass的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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265
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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266
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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267
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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268
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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269
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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circuitous
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| adj.迂回的路的，迂曲的，绕行的 | |
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271
suavely
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272
invoked
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| v.援引( invoke的过去式和过去分词 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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273
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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274
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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275
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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276
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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277
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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278
memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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279
furry
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| adj.毛皮的；似毛皮的；毛皮制的 | |
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280
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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281
electrified
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| v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 )；使兴奋 | |
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282
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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283
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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284
truthfulness
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| n. 符合实际 | |
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285
ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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286
lurk
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| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
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287
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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288
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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289
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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290
voraciously
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| adv.贪婪地 | |
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291
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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292
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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293
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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294
tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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295
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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296
condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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297
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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298
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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299
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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300
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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301
condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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302
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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303
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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304
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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305
batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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306
disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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307
pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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308
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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309
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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310
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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311
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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312
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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313
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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314
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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315
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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316
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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317
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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318
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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319
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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320
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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321
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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322
Buddha
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| n.佛；佛像；佛陀 | |
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323
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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324
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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