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'Twixt Land & Sea-Part20_JOSEPH CONRAD (1857-1924)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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passed in a tone of intenserelief between two seamen.

"Let go and haul."



The foreyards ran round with a great noise, amidstcheery cries.

And now the frightful whisker's made themselves heard giving



various orders. Already the ship was drawing ahead. And I was

alone with her. Nothing! no one in the world should stand now



between us, throwing a shadow on the way of silent knowledge and

mute affection, the perfect communion of a seaman with his first



command.

Walking to the taffrail, I was in time to make out, on the very



edge of a darkness thrown by a towering black mass like the very

gateway of Erebus - yes, I was in time to catch an evanescent



glimpse of my white hat left behind to mark the spot where the

secret sharer of my cabin and of my thoughts, as though he were my



second self, had lowered himself into the water to take his

punishment: a free man, a proud swimmerstriking out for a new



destiny.

FREYA OF THE SEVEN ISLES



One day - and that day was many years ago now - I received a long,

chatty letter from one of my old chums and fellow-wanderers in



Eastern waters. He was still out there, but settled down, and

middle-aged; I imagined him - grown portly in figure and domestic



in his habits; in short, overtaken by the fate common to all except

to those who, being speciallybeloved by the gods, get knocked on



the head early. The letter was of the reminiscent "do you

remember" kind - a wistful letter of backward glances. And,



amongst other things, "surely you remember old Nelson," he wrote.

Remember old Nelson! Certainly. And to begin with, his name was



not Nelson. The Englishmen in the Archipelago called him Nelson

because it was more convenient, I suppose, and he never protested.



It would have been mere pedantry. The true form of his name was

Nielsen. He had come out East long before the advent of telegraph



cables, had served English firms, had married an English girl, had

been one of us for years, trading and sailing in all directions



through the Eastern Archipelago, across and around, transversely,

diagonally, perpendicularly, in semi-circles, and zigzags, and



figures of eights, for years and years.

There was no nook or cranny of these tropical waters that the



enterprise of old Nelson (or Nielsen) had not penetrated in an

eminently pacific way. His tracks, if plotted out, would have



covered the map of the Archipelago like a cobweb - all of it, with

the sole exception of the Philippines. He would never approach



that part, from a strange dread of Spaniards, or, to be exact, of

the Spanish authorities. What he imagined they could do to him it



is impossible to say. Perhaps at some time in his life he had read

some stories of the Inquisition.



But he was in general afraid of what he called "authorities"; not

the English authorities, which he trusted and respected, but the



other two of that part of the world. He was not so horrified at

the Dutch as he was at the Spaniards, but he was even more



mistrustful of them. Very mistrustful indeed. The Dutch, in his

view, were capable of "playing any ugly trick on a man" who had the



misfortune to displease them. There were their laws and

regulations, but they had no notion of fair play in applying them.



It was really pitiable to see the anxious circumspection of his

dealings with some official or other, and remember that this man



had been known to stroll up to a village of cannibals in New Guinea

in a quiet, fearless manner (and note that he was always fleshy all



his life, and, if I may say so, an appetising morsel) on some

matter of barter that did not amount perhaps to fifty pounds in the



end.

Remember old Nelson! Rather! Truly, none of us in my generation



had known him in his active days. He was "retired" in our time.

He had bought, or else leased, part of a small island from the



Sultan of a little group called the Seven Isles, not far north from

Banka. It was, I suppose, a legitimate transaction, but I have no



doubt that had he been an Englishman the Dutch would have

discovered a reason to fire him out without ceremony. In this



connection the real form of his name stood him in good stead. In

the character of an unassuming Dane whose conduct was most correct,



they let him be. With all his money engaged in cultivation he was

naturally careful not to give even the shadow of offence, and it



was mostly for prudential reasons of that sort that he did not look

with a favourable eye on Jasper Allen. But of that later. Yes!



One remembered well enough old Nelson's big, hospitablebungalow




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