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'Twixt Land & Sea-Part10_JOSEPH CONRAD (1857-1924)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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Either would have been perfectlyconsistent with my feelings. I

gazed at the door, hesitating, but in the end I did neither. The



monition of some sixth sense - the sense of guilt, maybe, that

sense which always acts too late, alas! - warned me to look round;



and at once I became aware that the conclusion of this tumultuous

episode was likely to be a matter of livelyanxiety. Jacobus was



standing in the doorway of the dining-room. How long he had been

there it was impossible to guess; and remembering my struggle with



the girl I thought he must have been its mute witness from

beginning to end. But this supposition seemed almost incredible.



Perhaps that impenetrable girl had heard him come in and had got

away in time.



He stepped on to the verandah in his usual manner, heavy-eyed, with

glued lips. I marvelled at the girl's resemblance to this man.



Those long, Egyptian eyes, that low forehead of a stupid goddess,

she had found in the sawdust of the circus; but all the rest of the



face, the design and the modelling, the rounded chin, the very lips

- all that was Jacobus, fined down, more finished, more expressive.



His thick hand fell on and grasped with force the back of a light

chair (there were several standing about) and I perceived the



chance of a broken head at the end of all this - most likely. My

mortification was extreme. The scandal would be horrible; that was



unavoidable. But how to act so as to satisfy myself I did not

know. I stood on my guard and at any rate faced him. There was



nothing else for it. Of one thing I was certain, that, however

brazen my attitude, it could never equal the characteristic Jacobus



impudence.

He gave me his melancholy, glued smile and sat down. I own I was



relieved. The perspective of passing from kisses to blows had

nothing particularly attractive in it. Perhaps - perhaps he had



seen nothing? He behaved as usual, but he had never before found

me alone on the verandah. If he had alluded to it, if he had



asked: "Where's Alice?" or something of the sort, I would have

been able to judge from the tone. He would give me no opportunity.



The strikingpeculiarity was that he had never looked up at me yet.

"He knows," I said to myself confidently. And my contempt for him



relieved my disgust with myself.

"You are early home," I remarked.



"Things are very quiet; nothing doing at the store to-day," he

explained with a cast-down air.



"Oh, well, you know, I am off," I said, feeling that this, perhaps,

was the best thing to do.



"Yes," he breathed out. "Day after to-morrow."

This was not what I had meant; but as he gazed persistently on the



floor, I followed the direction of his glance. In the absolute

stillness of the house we stared at the high-heeled slipper the



girl had lost in her flight. We stared. It lay overturned.

After what seemed a very long time to me, Jacobus hitched his chair



forward, stooped with extended arm and picked it up. It looked a

slender thing in his big, thick hands. It was not really a



slipper, but a low shoe of blue, glazed kid, rubbed and shabby. It

had straps to go over the instep, but the girl only thrust her feet



in, after her slovenly manner. Jacobus raised his eyes from the

shoe to look at me.



"Sit down, Captain," he said at last, in his subdued tone.

As if the sight of that shoe had renewed the spell, I gave up



suddenly the idea of leaving the house there and then. It had

become impossible. I sat down, keeping my eyes on the fascinating



object. Jacobus turned his daughter's shoe over and over in his

cushioned paws as if studying the way the thing was made. He



contemplated the thin sole for a time; then glancing inside with an

absorbed air:



"I am glad I found you here, Captain."

I answered this by some sort of grunt, watching him covertly. Then



I added: "You won't have much more of me now."




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