Willems never remembered how and when he parted from Aissa. He caught himself drinking the muddy water out of the hollow of his hand, while his canoe was drifting in mid-stream past the last houses of Sambir. With his returning wits came the fear of something unknown that had taken possession of his heart, of something inarticulate and masterful which could not speak and would be obeyed. His first impulse was that of revolt. He would never go back there. Never! He looked round slowly at the brilliance of things in the deadly sunshine and took up his paddle! How changed everything seemed! The river was broader, the sky was higher. How fast the canoe flew under the strokes of his paddle! Since when had he acquired the strength of two men or more? He looked up and down the reach at the forests of the bank with a confused notion that with one sweep of his hand he could tumble all these trees into the stream. His face felt burning. He drank again, and shuddered6 with a depraved sense of pleasure at the after-taste of slime in the water.
It was late when he reached Almayer’s house, but he crossed the dark and uneven7 courtyard, walking lightly in the radiance of some light of his own, invisible to other eyes. His host’s sulky greeting jarred him like a sudden fall down a great height. He took his place at the table opposite Almayer and tried to speak cheerfully to his gloomy companion, but when the meal was ended and they sat smoking in silence he felt an abrupt8 discouragement, a lassitude in all his limbs, a sense of immense sadness as after some great and irreparable loss. The darkness of the night entered his heart, bringing with it doubt and hesitation9 and dull anger with himself and all the world. He had an impulse to shout horrible curses, to quarrel with Almayer, to do something violent. Quite without any immediate10 provocation11 he thought he would like to assault the wretched, sulky beast. He glanced at him ferociously12 from under his eyebrows13. The unconscious Almayer smoked thoughtfully, planning to-morrow’s work probably. The man’s composure seemed to Willems an unpardonable insult. Why didn’t that idiot talk to-night when he wanted him to? . . . on other nights he was ready enough to chatter14. And such dull nonsense too! And Willems, trying hard to repress his own senseless rage, looked fixedly15 through the thick tobacco-smoke at the stained tablecloth16.
They retired17 early, as usual, but in the middle of the night Willems leaped out of his hammock with a stifled18 execration19 and ran down the steps into the courtyard. The two night watchmen, who sat by a little fire talking together in a monotonous20 undertone, lifted their heads to look wonderingly at the discomposed features of the white man as he crossed the circle of light thrown out by their fire. He disappeared in the darkness and then came back again, passing them close, but with no sign of consciousness of their presence on his face. Backwards21 and forwards he paced, muttering to himself, and the two Malays, after a short consultation22 in whispers left the fire quietly, not thinking it safe to remain in the vicinity of a white man who behaved in such a strange manner. They retired round the corner of the godown and watched Willems curiously23 through the night, till the short daybreak was followed by the sudden blaze of the rising sun, and Almayer’s establishment woke up to life and work.
As soon as he could get away unnoticed in the bustle24 of the busy riverside, Willems crossed the river on his way to the place where he had met Aissa. He threw himself down in the grass by the side of the brook25 and listened for the sound of her footsteps. The brilliant light of day fell through the irregular opening in the high branches of the trees and streamed down, softened27, amongst the shadows of big trunks. Here and there a narrow sunbeam touched the rugged28 bark of a tree with a golden splash, sparkled on the leaping water of the brook, or rested on a leaf that stood out, shimmering29 and distinct, on the monotonous background of sombre green tints30. The clear gap of blue above his head was crossed by the quick flight of white rice-birds whose wings flashed in the sunlight, while through it the heat poured down from the sky, clung about the steaming earth, rolled among the trees, and wrapped up Willems in the soft and odorous folds of air heavy with the faint scent31 of blossoms and with the acrid32 smell of decaying life. And in that atmosphere of Nature’s workshop Willems felt soothed33 and lulled34 into forgetfulness of his past, into indifference35 as to his future. The recollections of his triumphs, of his wrongs and of his ambition vanished in that warmth, which seemed to melt all regrets, all hope, all anger, all strength out of his heart. And he lay there, dreamily contented36, in the tepid37 and perfumed shelter, thinking of Aissa’s eyes; recalling the sound of her voice, the quiver of her lips — her frowns and her smile.
She came, of course. To her he was something new, unknown and strange. He was bigger, stronger than any man she had seen before, and altogether different from all those she knew. He was of the victorious38 race. With a vivid remembrance of the great catastrophe39 of her life he appeared to her with all the fascination40 of a great and dangerous thing; of a terror vanquished41, surmounted42, made a plaything of. They spoke43 with just such a deep voice — those victorious men; they looked with just such hard blue eyes at their enemies. And she made that voice speak softly to her, those eyes look tenderly at her face! He was indeed a man. She could not understand all he told her of his life, but the fragments she understood she made up for herself into a story of a man great amongst his own people, valorous and unfortunate; an undaunted fugitive44 dreaming of vengeance45 against his enemies. He had all the attractiveness of the vague and the unknown — of the unforeseen and of the sudden; of a being strong, dangerous, alive, and human, ready to be enslaved.
She felt that he was ready. She felt it with the unerring intuition of a primitive46 woman confronted by a simple impulse. Day after day, when they met and she stood a little way off, listening to his words, holding him with her look, the undefined terror of the new conquest became faint and blurred47 like the memory of a dream, and the certitude grew distinct, and convincing, and visible to the eyes like some material thing in full sunlight. It was a deep joy, a great pride, a tangible48 sweetness that seemed to leave the taste of honey on her lips. He lay stretched at her feet without moving, for he knew from experience how a slight movement of his could frighten her away in those first days of their intercourse49. He lay very quiet, with all the ardour of his desire ringing in his voice and shining in his eyes, whilst his body was still, like death itself. And he looked at her, standing50 above him, her head lost in the shadow of broad and graceful51 leaves that touched her cheek; while the slender spikes52 of pale green orchids53 streamed down from amongst the boughs54 and mingled55 with the black hair that framed her face, as if all those plants claimed her for their own — the animated56 and brilliant flower of all that exuberant57 life which, born in gloom, struggles for ever towards the sunshine.
Every day she came a little nearer. He watched her slow progress — the gradual taming of that woman by the words of his love. It was the monotonous song of praise and desire that, commencing at creation, wraps up the world like an atmosphere and shall end only in the end of all things — when there are no lips to sing and no ears to hear. He told her that she was beautiful and desirable, and he repeated it again and again; for when he told her that, he had said all there was within him — he had expressed his only thought, his only feeling. And he watched the startled look of wonder and mistrust vanish from her face with the passing days, her eyes soften26, the smile dwell longer and longer on her lips; a smile as of one charmed by a delightful58 dream; with the slight exaltation of intoxicating59 triumph lurking60 in its dawning tenderness.
And while she was near there was nothing in the whole world — for that idle man — but her look and her smile. Nothing in the past, nothing in the future; and in the present only the luminous61 fact of her existence. But in the sudden darkness of her going he would be left weak and helpless, as though despoiled62 violently of all that was himself. He who had lived all his life with no preoccupation but that of his own career, contemptuously indifferent to all feminine influence, full of scorn for men that would submit to it, if ever so little; he, so strong, so superior even in his errors, realized at last that his very individuality was snatched from within himself by the hand of a woman. Where was the assurance and pride of his cleverness; the belief in success, the anger of failure, the wish to retrieve63 his fortune, the certitude of his ability to accomplish it yet? Gone. All gone. All that had been a man within him was gone, and there remained only the trouble of his heart — that heart which had become a contemptible64 thing; which could be fluttered by a look or a smile, tormented65 by a word, soothed by a promise.
When the longed-for day came at last, when she sank on the grass by his side and with a quick gesture took his hand in hers, he sat up suddenly with the movement and look of a man awakened66 by the crash of his own falling house. All his blood, all his sensation, all his life seemed to rush into that hand leaving him without strength, in a cold shiver, in the sudden clamminess and collapse67 as of a deadly gun-shot wound. He flung her hand away brutally68, like something burning, and sat motionless, his head fallen forward, staring on the ground and catching69 his breath in painful gasps70. His impulse of fear and apparent horror did not dismay her in the least. Her face was grave and her eyes looked seriously at him. Her fingers touched the hair of his temple, ran in a light caress71 down his cheek, twisted gently the end of his long moustache: and while he sat in the tremor72 of that contact she ran off with startling fleetness and disappeared in a peal73 of clear laughter, in the stir of grass, in the nod of young twigs74 growing over the path; leaving behind only a vanishing trail of motion and sound.
He scrambled75 to his feet slowly and painfully, like a man with a burden on his shoulders, and walked towards the riverside. He hugged to his breast the recollection of his fear and of his delight, but told himself seriously over and over again that this must be the end of that adventure. After shoving off his canoe into the stream he lifted his eyes to the bank and gazed at it long and steadily76, as if taking his last look at a place of charming memories. He marched up to Almayer’s house with the concentrated expression and the determined77 step of a man who had just taken a momentous78 resolution. His face was set and rigid79, his gestures and movements were guarded and slow. He was keeping a tight hand on himself. A very tight hand. He had a vivid illusion — as vivid as reality almost — of being in charge of a slippery prisoner. He sat opposite Almayer during that dinner — which was their last meal together — with a perfectly80 calm face and within him a growing terror of escape from his own self.
Now and then he would grasp the edge of the table and set his teeth hard in a sudden wave of acute despair, like one who, falling down a smooth and rapid declivity81 that ends in a precipice82, digs his finger nails into the yielding surface and feels himself slipping helplessly to inevitable83 destruction.
Then, abruptly84, came a relaxation85 of his muscles, the giving way of his will. Something seemed to snap in his head, and that wish, that idea kept back during all those hours, darted86 into his brain with the heat and noise of a conflagration87. He must see her! See her at once! Go now! To-night! He had the raging regret of the lost hour, of every passing moment. There was no thought of resistance now. Yet with the instinctive3 fear of the irrevocable, with the innate88 falseness of the human heart, he wanted to keep open the way of retreat. He had never absented himself during the night. What did Almayer know? What would Almayer think? Better ask him for the gun. A moonlight night. . . . Look for deer. . . . A colourable pretext89. He would lie to Almayer. What did it matter! He lied to himself every minute of his life. And for what? For a woman. And such . . . .
Almayer’s answer showed him that deception90 was useless. Everything gets to be known, even in this place. Well, he did not care. Cared for nothing but for the lost seconds. What if he should suddenly die. Die before he saw her. Before he could . . .
As, with the sound of Almayer’s laughter in his ears, he urged his canoe in a slanting91 course across the rapid current, he tried to tell himself that he could return at any moment. He would just go and look at the place where they used to meet, at the tree under which he lay when she took his hand, at the spot where she sat by his side. Just go there and then return — nothing more; but when his little skiff touched the bank he leaped out, forgetting the painter, and the canoe hung for a moment amongst the bushes and then swung out of sight before he had time to dash into the water and secure it. He was thunderstruck at first. Now he could not go back unless he called up the Rajah’s people to get a boat and rowers — and the way to Patalolo’s campong led past Aissa’s house!
He went up the path with the eager eyes and reluctant steps of a man pursuing a phantom92, and when he found himself at a place where a narrow track branched off to the left towards Omar’s clearing he stood still, with a look of strained attention on his face as if listening to a far-off voice — the voice of his fate. It was a sound inarticulate but full of meaning; and following it there came a rending93 and tearing within his breast. He twisted his fingers together, and the joints94 of his hands and arms cracked. On his forehead the perspiration95 stood out in small pearly drops. He looked round wildly. Above the shapeless darkness of the forest undergrowth rose the treetops with their high boughs and leaves standing out black on the pale sky — like fragments of night floating on moonbeams. Under his feet warm steam rose from the heated earth. Round him there was a great silence.
He was looking round for help. This silence, this immobility of his surroundings seemed to him a cold rebuke96, a stern refusal, a cruel unconcern. There was no safety outside of himself — and in himself there was no refuge; there was only the image of that woman. He had a sudden moment of lucidity97 — of that cruel lucidity that comes once in life to the most benighted98. He seemed to see what went on within him, and was horrified99 at the strange sight. He, a white man whose worst fault till then had been a little want of judgment100 and too much confidence in the rectitude of his kind! That woman was a complete savage101, and . . . He tried to tell himself that the thing was of no consequence. It was a vain effort. The novelty of the sensations he had never experienced before in the slightest degree, yet had despised on hearsay102 from his safe position of a civilized103 man, destroyed his courage. He was disappointed with himself. He seemed to be surrendering to a wild creature the unstained purity of his life, of his race, of his civilization. He had a notion of being lost amongst shapeless things that were dangerous and ghastly. He struggled with the sense of certain defeat — lost his footing — fell back into the darkness. With a faint cry and an upward throw of his arms he gave up as a tired swimmer gives up: because the swamped craft is gone from under his feet; because the night is dark and the shore is far — because death is better than strife104.
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1
manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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3
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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6
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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14
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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15
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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18
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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19
execration
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| n.诅咒，念咒，憎恶 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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28
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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30
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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31
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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33
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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35
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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39
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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40
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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41
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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42
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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43
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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44
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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45
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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46
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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47
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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48
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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49
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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50
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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51
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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52
spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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53
orchids
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| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
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54
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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55
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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56
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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58
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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60
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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61
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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62
despoiled
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| v.掠夺，抢劫( despoil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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64
contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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66
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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67
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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68
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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74
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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declivity
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| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
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precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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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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conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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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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rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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lucidity
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| n.明朗，清晰，透明 | |
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benighted
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| adj.蒙昧的 | |
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99
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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100
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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101
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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hearsay
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| n.谣传，风闻 | |
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103
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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