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Tales of Unrest-Part11_JOSEPH CONRAD (1857-1924)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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which narrow shadows pivoted round the centre like the spokes of a

wheel. She heard a voice calling, "Hey! There!" and answered with a



wild scream. So, he could call yet! He was calling after her to stop.

Never! . . . She tore through the night, past the startled group of



seaweed-gatherers who stood round their lantern paralysed with fear at

the unearthly screech coming from that fleeing shadow. The men leaned



on their pitchforks staring fearfully. A woman fell on her knees, and,

crossing herself, began to pray aloud. A little girl with her ragged



skirt full of slimy seaweed began to sob despairingly, lugging her

soaked burden close to the man who carried the light. Somebody said:



"The thing ran out towards the sea." Another voice exclaimed: "And the

sea is coming back! Look at the spreading puddles. Do you hear--you



woman--there! Get up!" Several voices cried together. "Yes, let us

be off! Let the accursed thing go to the sea!" They moved on, keeping



close round the light. Suddenly a man swore loudly. He would go and

see what was the matter. It had been a woman's voice. He would go.



There were shrill protests from women--but his high form detached

itself from the group and went off running. They sent an unanimous



call of scared voices after him. A word, insulting and mocking, came

back, thrown at them through the darkness. A woman moaned. An old man



said gravely: "Such things ought to be left alone." They went on

slower, shuffling in the yielding sand and whispering to one another



that Millot feared nothing, having no religion, but that it would end

badly some day.



Susan met the incoming tide by the Raven islet and stopped, panting,

with her feet in the water. She heard the murmur and felt the cold



caress of the sea, and, calmer now, could see the sombre and confused

mass of the Raven on one side and on the other the long white streak



of Molene sands that are left high above the dry bottom of Fougere Bay

at every ebb. She turned round and saw far away, along the starred



background of the sky, the raggedoutline of the coast. Above it,

nearly facing her, appeared the tower of Ploumar Church; a slender and



tall pyramid shooting up dark and pointed into the clustered glitter

of the stars. She felt strangely calm. She knew where she was, and



began to remember how she came there--and why. She peered into the

smooth obscurity near her. She was alone. There was nothing there;



nothing near her, either living or dead.

The tide was creeping in quietly, putting out long impatient arms of



strange rivulets that ran towards the land between ridges of sand.

Under the night the pools grew bigger with mysteriousrapidity, while



the great sea, yet far off, thundered in a regular rhythm along the

indistinct line of the horizon. Susan splashed her way back for a few



yards without being able to get clear of the water that murmured

tenderly all around and, suddenly, with a spiteful gurgle, nearly took



her off her feet. Her heart thumped with fear. This place was too big

and too empty to die in. To-morrow they would do with her what they



liked. But before she died she must tell them--tell the gentlemen in

black clothes that there are things no woman can bear. She must



explain how it happened. . . . She splashed through a pool, getting

wet to the waist, too preoccupied to care. . . . She must explain. "He



came in the same way as ever and said, just so: 'Do you think I am

going to leave the land to those people from Morbihan that I do not



know? Do you? We shall see! Come along, you creature of mischance!'

And he put his arms out. Then, Messieurs, I said: 'Before



God--never!' And he said, striding at me with open palms: 'There is no

God to hold me! Do you understand, you useless carcase. I will do what



I like.' And he took me by the shoulders. Then I, Messieurs, called to

God for help, and next minute, while he was shaking me, I felt my long



scissors in my hand. His shirt was unbuttoned, and, by the candle-

light, I saw the hollow of his throat. I cried: 'Let go!' He was



crushing my shoulders. He was strong, my man was! Then I thought: No!

. . . Must I? . . . Then take!--and I struck in the hollow place. I



never saw him fall. . . . The old father never turned his head. He is

deaf and childish, gentlemen. . . . Nobody saw him fall. I ran out



. . . Nobody saw. . . ."

She had been scrambling amongst the boulders of the Raven and now



found herself, all out of breath, standingamongst the heavy shadows

of the rocky islet. The Raven is connected with the main land by a



natural pier of immense and slippery stones. She intended to return

home that way. Was he still standing there? At home. Home! Four



idiots and a corpse. She must go back and explain. Anybody would

understand. . . .



Below her the night or the sea seemed to pronounce distinctly--

"Aha! I see you at last!"






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