目
录
黑暗的心
Heart of Darkness. 1
罗曼亲王
Prince Roman. 101
青春
Youth. . 126
台风
Typhoon. 163
內容試閱：
前言 约瑟夫康拉德（Joseph Conrad，18571924），波兰裔英国著名作家，西方现代主义文学的先驱之一。1857年12月3日，康拉德出生在被俄国分割出去原属波兰的波多利亚地区，他的父亲是位爱国（波兰）作家。很小的时候，他在父亲的指导下阅读了大量法国、英国和波兰著名作家的作品，这为他日后从事文学创作奠定了坚实的基础。在康拉德8岁和12岁时，他的母亲和父亲分别因肺结核病去世，后由舅舅抚养。1874年10月13日，他前往法国马赛学习航海，后在英国商船上担任水手、船长，在海上生活达20年，曾到过南美、非洲、东南亚等地，这是他从事文学创作的素材源泉。1886年，康拉德加入英国国籍。1889年，他开始文学创作，一生共写了14部长篇小说、28篇短篇小说和两篇回忆录。他的作品根据题材可分为航海小说、丛林小说和社会政治小说。他的航海小说出色地传达了海洋上狂风暴雨的气氛，以及水手们艰苦的航海生活和深刻细微的心理活动，代表作有《水仙号上的黑家伙》（The Nigger of the Narcissus1897）、《台风》（Typhoon 1902 ）、《青春》（Youth（1902））、《阴影线》（The Shadow Line 1917）等。他的丛林小说大部分都是由一个叫马洛的人叙述的，以《黑暗的心》（Heart of Darkness 1899 ）、《吉姆爷》（Lord Jim 1900）为代表，探讨道德与人的灵魂问题，包含着深刻的社会历史内容。他的社会政治小说《诺斯特罗莫》（Nostromo 1904 ）、《密探》（The Secret Agent 1907 ）、《罗曼亲王》（ Prince Roman 1911 ）及《在西方的眼睛下》（Under Western Eyes1911）等，表现了他对殖民主义的憎恶。康拉德是英国现代小说的先行者之一，他的创作兼用现实主义和浪漫主义的手法，擅长细致入微的心理描写，行文流畅，有时略带嘲讽。他曾说他要用文字使读者听到、感觉到、更重要得是看到他所表达的东西。读者将因此而产生各种不同的感受：鼓舞、安慰、恐惧、陶醉等，还将看到真理之所在。康拉德把福楼拜和莫泊桑的现实主义手法引入英国小说，并从英国小说那里继承了探索道德问题的传统。他的散文也写得丰富多彩，给人以美的享受。康拉德在英国文学史上有非常重要的地位，英国著名文学评论家里维斯在其论著《伟大的传统》中，把康拉德列为英国文学史上五大作家之一，著名哲学家罗素对他高度赞赏道：强烈而热情的高贵风格照亮我的心，像从井底看到的明星一样。近一个世纪以来，他的作品受到全世界一代又一代读者的喜爱，其中一些作品还被改编成电影、电视剧等。基于以上原因，我们决定编译康拉德系列作品中的代表作，其中包括《黑暗的心》（与《罗曼亲王》《青春》《台风》集结成一本书）、《吉姆爷》和《阴影线》，并采用中文导读英文版的形式出版。在中文导读中，我们尽力使其贴近原作的精髓，也尽可能保留原作的故事主线。我们希望能够编出为当代中国读者所喜爱的经典读本。读者在阅读英文故事之前，可以先阅读中文导读内容，这样有利于了解故事背景，从而加快阅读速度。我们相信，该经典著作的引进对加强当代中国读者，特别是青少年读者的人文修养是非常有帮助的。本书是名著双语读物中文导读 英文原版系列丛书中的一种，编写本系列丛书的另一个主要目的就是为准备参加英语国家留学考试的学生提供学习素材。对于留学考试，无论是SSAT、SAT还是TOEFL、GRE，要取得好的成绩，就必须了解西方的社会、历史、文化、生活等方面的背景知识，而阅读西方原版名著是了解这些知识最重要的手段之一。本书的英文部分选自原著。原著有些词汇是老式的写法，现在的英汉词典大多已不再收录。为了忠实于原著，本次出版时以不修改为宜。望读者阅读时留意。本书中文导读内容由纪飞编写。参加本书故事素材搜集整理及编译工作的还有赵雪、刘乃亚、蔡红昌、王卉媛、陈起永、熊红华、熊建国、程来川、徐平国、龚桂平、付泽新、熊志勇、胡贝贝、李军、宋婷、张灵羚、张玉瑶、付建平、汪疆玮、乔暘等。限于我们的科学、人文素养及英语水平，书中难免会有不当之处，衷心希望读者朋友批评指正。
青春 Youth 在英国，人与海洋的关系十分密切，大多数人都在海上工作或游玩过。几位朋友围坐在餐桌旁聊天，他们都曾经在船上工作过，对大海上的生活有相似的情结。马洛（Marlow）就是他们中的一个，他开始为朋友们讲述他第一次在东方海洋上航行时发生的事情。那是二十二年前，马洛才二十岁，在一艘向东方航行的帆船朱迪亚（Judea）号上担任二副。这艘船很古老，被弃置过很长时间，船身遍布锈迹和污垢；它的船尾印着这样的字样：拼死一搏（Do or Die）这艘船的沧桑和这行题字让年轻的马洛感受到了某种浪漫色彩。朱迪亚号的船长名叫约翰彼尔德（John Beard），是一位矮小驼背、六十岁左右的老人；大副叫马翁（Mahon），也是个老头；还有一位领航员名叫杰米（Jermyn），对马洛很不信任。朱迪亚号此次航行计划自伦敦出发，中途在北方的一个港口装载煤，随后驶往曼谷。在前往港口装煤的途中，他们遇到了八级大风。等风过后，他们只好将因颠簸而甩偏的压舱沙石用铲子铲回原位。就这样，他们经过很大的波折、花了十六天才到达码头，并且错过了装货时间，不得不等待一个月再出发。彼尔德船长的夫人前来探望丈夫，她对马洛很亲切。就在出发前夕，又发生了一起撞船事故，一艘汽船撞上了朱迪亚号（船长为了安置夫人甚至意外地困在小艇上漂走很远）。这导致他们不得不又耽误了三个星期才出发。他们随后的一路上，遇到了更多、更危急的险情。首先，在他们出发不久，便又遇到了几天几夜的八级大风，船体不断因为大风和水浪而损坏，开始漏水；而抽水泵这时又发生了故障，马洛和船员们不得不轮流拼命地摇动手柄抽水，防止船沉没。水手们的身体几乎一直浸在水中然而马洛觉得，这一切虽然艰苦，却召唤着青春的力量和信念，是对他的考验和磨炼，唤起他热烈的激情，让他一边承受这艰苦，一边享受挑战与搏斗的喜悦。某一天，马洛发现了一只漂来的平底锅，立刻意识到甲板室被冲垮了，便赶快叫大家赶到甲板室所在的地方，去营救留在那里的厨师亚伯拉罕其他船员都提前搬到了安全的地方，只有亚伯拉罕固执己见没有搬出来。亚伯拉罕被救出了，却因受到巨大打击而精神失常。马洛和其他船员将亚伯拉罕安置在较安全的地方，便马上回到水泵边，继续抽水。之后的第二天，风暴便停止了。朱迪亚号已经破损得不成样子，水手们强烈要求返航，于是他们顶着逆风回到了法尔茅斯（Falmouth）。他们在法尔茅斯修船，随后招募了新的水手起航，却仍旧不得不半途折返，因为船的状况仍不乐观，依旧漏水，而水手们不愿在去往曼谷的一百五十天中每天都要拼命地抽水。就这样，朱迪亚号再一次重新招募船员却又因同样理由折返，总是无法出发去曼谷，一直耽搁了六个月。这艘船的遭遇传遍了整个英吉利海峡，马洛他们甚至经常受到法尔茅斯当地人的嘲弄，说他们永远无法到达曼谷。终于有一天，他们得以彻底修好船出海。这一次，虽然海上风平浪静，但由于船十分老旧而货物又沉重，朱迪亚号走得十分缓慢。马洛在船上，对朱迪亚号的缓慢速度并未怀有抱怨之心，而是享受着青春时代特有的对未来的憧憬与希望。等到他们终于进入印度洋，又过去了几个星期，平静被打破，险情再一次出现船舱下的货物（煤）竟然自燃起火了，在舱下闷烧着，释放出呛鼻的浓烟。他们试图用向船舱下灌水的方法灭火于是，继之前拼命向船外抽水避免淹死之后，船员们又不得不拼命向船内灌水避免烧死。经过几天几夜的灭火行动，烟雾逐渐减退，并最终消失了。他们成功将货舱的火浇灭了，不过船上还是弥漫着煤烟的味道。年迈的船长与大副紧张地检查还有没有未发现的险情，而年轻的马洛却沉浸在胜利的喜悦中，心中充满了自豪。灾难并没有就此停止。过了两天，轮到马洛在甲板值班，他靠在主甲板的木匠工作台抽烟，没想到船上发生了巨大的爆炸，甲板被炸毁，空气中漂浮的煤灰颗粒被点燃，马洛也被气流掀到了空中，毛发被烧掉了不少，脸上也受了伤。不过幸运的是，船上的人们虽然多多少少有些受伤，但并没有任何人死亡。船长也被这场突如其来的爆炸震惊了。然而即使如此，船长唯一的念头仍是将破损严重的船驶回航道，向曼谷进发。水手们虽然受了伤，但人人都在认真尽力地工作，纠正船的航向。马洛觉得，这种优秀的品质，是海上生活赋予他们的。他们的船已经破烂不堪，舱下的煤还在燃烧。马翁发现在朱迪亚号后方远处有一艘汽船，彼尔德船长让大家升起两面旗子，用旗语向那艘汽船示意，表示这条船亟需救援。汽船马上向这边行驶，用旗语表示正在前来救援。半小时后，汽船停在了朱迪亚号边上。这艘汽船是索莫维尔号（Sommerville），船上载着邮包。索莫维尔号的船员试图劝说彼尔德船长他们放弃这艘船，由于彼尔德船长仍旧坚持要乘坐朱迪亚号去曼谷，最后，船长纳什（Nash）答应拖带朱迪亚号到中途可以灭火的地方。拖行途中，马翁下令收帆，水手们毫无怨言地爬上摇摇欲坠的桅杆，整整齐齐地卷起风帆马洛为他们的这种行为而感叹。船上的水手们只是临时凑成的团队，没有经过严格的训练，也没有服从命令的意识，但一路上却总是能齐心协力地战胜困难。马洛认为这取决于一种内在的品质，潜藏在民族特性当中。当天夜里，朱迪亚号的船员们发现，甲板下的火越烧越旺了汽船拖行的速度过快，导致火开始更加猛烈地燃烧起来。马翁和马洛不得已将拖行用的绳索砍断，防止火势继续扩大。汽船发现朱迪亚号脱离之后，绕了回来，纳什船长希望朱迪亚号上的大家弃船，由索莫维尔号带他们离开。彼尔德船长拒绝了，他要在朱迪亚号上守到最后一刻。还有邮包要送的索莫维尔号无奈地开走了，留下熊熊燃烧着的朱迪亚号。船长要求大家尽可能多地抢救船上的财物，大家几乎是冒着生命危险从火海中拖出各种各样的破旧物品毕竟这是一艘很老的船了。马洛受命带着两名水手到救生小艇中安置物品，为大家做好随时离开大船的准备。然而，他们安置好以后，却许久不见船长和其他水手下船来。马洛焦急地爬上燃烧着的大船，发现大家竟然在愉快地享用带不走的食物和美酒，而船长疲倦地在一旁睡着了。马洛将船长摇醒，船长命令大家下船，他自己不舍地在他第一次指挥的这艘船上徘徊了一会儿，才最后一个下到小艇里面。小艇共有三只，船长、马翁、马洛各负责一只，马洛负责的一只是最小的，只载了他、两名水手和很少的货物。船长为了安全考虑，要求马洛紧跟着最大的小艇；然而年轻的马洛一心只想获得这条小艇独立的指挥权，希望自己第一个到达陆地，胜过另外两只小艇。这一切都是青春时代才有的迷人的、充满希冀的念头。小艇在老船朱迪亚号周围停泊了一段时间，大家亲眼看着老船燃烧得只剩骨架，沉入海中。为朱迪亚号送葬完毕后，他们才出发。马洛用船上仅有的简单器材做了一个粗陋的风帆，竟然就超过了另外两艘小艇他成了那艘小艇的艇长。途中，马洛看到了远处有一艘船，但故意没有作声，因为他害怕那艘船会带他们远离东方而东方是他梦寐以求想要到达的地方。马洛他们划着小艇，经历了恶劣的天气和持续的干渴，然而马洛却将这些苦难当做振奋人心的历练，青春让他觉得自己可以永远坚持下去，让他觉得自己拥有值得自豪的无限力量。他们终于在深夜到达了一个港口到达了让马洛魂牵梦萦的东方。不久，船长和马翁的小艇也到达了岸边。他们发现不远处有一艘汽船停了下来，于是马洛划着小艇过去询问，原来这是新加坡开来的神仙号，正在返航途中。神仙号的二副答应天亮后带马洛他们一程。马洛划回岸边，系好小艇，很快就睡着了。第二天，马洛醒来，看到沐浴在阳光下的东方，高远的蓝天、平静的海面、新奇的房屋和沧桑的树木、棕色黄色皮肤的东方人这一瞬间与阳光下东方的邂逅，让马洛一生难忘，它代表了青春的激情和浪漫。马洛讲述完他的故事，感叹往昔大海给予他的激情。几个如今已经在其他职业路途上奋斗多年的朋友纷纷表示同感虽然大海时常带给海上生活的人们巨大的打击，但与大海的搏斗让他们感受到青春的力量，大海同时也给予人们浪漫的幻想和奋斗的勇气。? his could have occurred nowhere but in England, where men and sea interpenetrate, so to speakthe sea entering into the life of most men, and the men knowing something or everything about the sea, in the way of amusement, of travel, or of bread-winning.We were sitting round a mahogany table that reflected the bottle, the claret-glasses, and our faces as we leaned on our elbows. There was a director of companies, an accountant, a lawyer, Marlow, and myself. The director had been a Conway boy, the accountant had served four years at sea, the lawyera fine crusted Tory, High Churchman, the best of old fellows, the soul of honourhad been chief officer in the P. & O. service in the good old days when mail-boats were square-rigged at least on two masts, and used to come down the China Sea before a fair monsoon with stun-sails set alow and aloft. We all began life in the merchant service. Between the five of us there was the strong bond of the sea, and also the fellowship of the craft, which no amount of enthusiasm for yachting, cruising, and so on can give, since one is only the amusement of life and the other is life itself.Marlow at least I think that is how he spelt his name told the story, or rather the chronicle, of a voyage：Yes, I have seen a little of the Eastern seas; but what I remember best is my first voyage there. You fellows know there are those voyages that seem ordered for the illustration of life, that might stand for a symbol of existence. You fight, work, sweat, nearly kill yourself, sometimes do kill yourself, trying to accomplish somethingand you cant. Not from any fault of yours. You simply can do nothing, neither great nor littlenot a thing in the worldnot even marry an old maid, or get a wretched 600-ton cargo of coal to its port of destination.It was altogether a memorable affair. It was my first voyage to the East, and my first voyage as second mate; it was also my skippers first command. Youll admit it was time. He was sixty if a day; a little man, with a broad, not very straight back, with bowed shoulders and one leg more bandy than the other, he had that queer twisted-about appearance you see so often in men who work in the fields. He had a nut-cracker facechin and nose trying to come together over a sunken mouthand it was framed in iron-grey fluffy hair, that looked like a chin strap of cotton-wool sprinkled with coal-dust. And he had blue eyes in that old face of his, which were amazingly like a boys, with that candid expression some quite common men preserve to the end of their days by a rare internal gift of simplicity of heart and rectitude of soul. What induced him to accept me was a wonder. I had come out of a crack Australian clipper, where I had been third officer, and he seemed to have a prejudice against crack clippers as aristocratic and high-toned. He said to me, You know, in this ship you will have to work. I said I had to work in every ship I had ever been in. Ah, but this is different, and you gentlemen out of them big ships;... but there! I dare say you will do. Join to-morrow.I joined to-morrow. It was twenty-two years ago; and I was just twenty. How time passes! It was one of the happiest days of my life. Fancy! Second mate for the first timea really responsible officer! I wouldnt have thrown up my new billet for a fortune. The mate looked me over carefully. He was also an old chap, but of another stamp. He had a Roman nose, a snow-white, long beard, and his name was Mahon, but he insisted that it should be pronounced Mann. He was well connected; yet there was something wrong with his luck, and he had never got on.As to the captain, he had been for years in coasters, then in the Mediterranean, and last in the West Indian trade. He had never been round the Capes. He could just write a kind of sketchy hand, and didnt care for writing at all. Both were thorough good seamen of course, and between those two old chaps I felt like a small boy between two grandfathers.The ship also was old. Her name was the Judea. Queer name, isnt it? She belonged to a man Wilmer, Wilcoxsome name like that; but he has been bankrupt and dead these twenty years or more, and his name dont matter. She had been laid up in Shadwell basin for ever so long. You may imagine her state. She was all rust, dust, grimesoot aloft, dirt on deck. To me it was like coming out of a palace into a ruined cottage. She was about 400 tons, had a primitive windlass, wooden latches to the doors, not a bit of brass about her, and a big square stern. There was on it, below her name in big letters, a lot of scroll work, with the gilt off, and some sort of a coat of arms, with the motto Do or Die underneath. I remember it took my fancy immensely. There was a touch of romance in it, something that made me love the old thingsomething that appealed to my youth!We left London in ballastsand ballastto load a cargo of coal in a northern port for Bankok. Bankok! I thrilled. I had been six years at sea, but had only seen Melbourne and Sydney, very good places, charming places in their waybut Bankok!We worked out of the Thames under canvas, with a North Sea pilot on board. His name was Jermyn, and he dodged all day long about the galley drying his handkerchief before the stove. Apparently he never slept. He was a dismal man, with a perpetual tear sparkling at the end of his nose, who either had been in trouble, or was in trouble, or expected to be in troublecouldnt be happy unless something went wrong. He mistrusted my youth, my common-sense, and my seamanship, and made a point of showing it in a hundred little ways. I dare say he was right. It seems to me I knew very little then, and I know not much more now; but I cherish a hate for that Jermyn to this day.We were a week working up as far as Yarmouth Roads, and then we got into a galethe famous October gale of twenty-two years ago. It was wind, lightning, sleet, snow, and a terrific sea. We were flying light, and you may imagine how bad it was when I tell you we had smashed bulwarks and a flooded deck. On the second night she shifted her ballast into the lee bow, and by that time we had been blown off somewhere on the Dogger Bank. There was nothing for it but go below with shovels and try to right her, and there we were in that vast hold, gloomy like a cavern, the tallow dips stuck and flickering on the beams, the gale howling above, the ship tossing about like mad on her side; there we all were, Jermyn, the captain, everyone, hardly able to keep our feet, engaged on that gravediggers work, and trying to toss shovelfuls of wet sand up to windward. At every tumble of the ship you could see vaguely in the dim light men falling down with a great flourish of shovels. One of the ships boys we had two, impressed by the weirdness of the scene, wept as if his heart would break. We could hear him blubbering somewhere in the shadows.On the third day the gale died out, and by-and-by a north-country tug picked us up. We took sixteen days in all to get from London to the Tyne! When we got into dock we had lost our turn for loading, and they hauled us off to a tier where we remained for a month. Mrs. Beard the captains name was Beard came from Colchester to see the old man. She lived on board. The crew of runners had left, and there remained only the officers, one boy, and the steward, a mulatto who answered to the name of Abraham. Mrs. Beard was an old woman, with a face all wrinkled and ruddy like a winter apple, and the figure of a young girl. She caught sight of me once, sewing on a button, and insisted on having my shirts to repair. This was something different from the captains wives I had known on board crack clippers. When I brought her the shirts, she said： And the socks? They want mending, I am sure, and JohnsCaptain Beardsthings are all in order now. I would be glad of something to do. Bless the old woman! She overhauled my outfit for me, and meantime I read for the first time Sartor Resartus and Burnabys Ride to Khiva. I didnt understand much of the first then; but I remember I preferred the soldier to the philosopher at the time; a preference which life has only confirmed. One was a man, and the other was either moreor less. However, they are both dead, and Mrs. Beard is dead, and youth, strength, genius, thoughts, achievements, simple heartsall dies .... No matter.They loaded us at last. We shipped a crew. Eight able seamen and two boys. We hauled off one evening to the buoys at the dock-gates, ready to go out, and with a fair prospect of beginning the voyage next day. Mrs. Beard was to start for home by a late train. When the ship was fast we went to tea. We sat rather silent through the mealMahon, the old couple, and I. I finished first, and slipped away for a smoke, my cabin being in a deck-house just against the poop. It was high water, blowing fresh with a drizzle; the double dock-gates were opened, and the steam colliers were going in and out in the darkness with their lights burning bright, a great plashing of propellers, rattling of winches, and a lot of hailing on the pier-heads. I watched the procession of head-lights gliding high and of green lights gliding low in the night, when suddenly a red gleam flashed at me, vanished, came into view again, and remained. The fore-end of a steamer loomed up close. I shouted down the cabin, Come up, quick! and then heard a startled voice saying afar in the dark, Stop her, sir. A bell jingled. Another voice cried warningly, We are going right into that barque, sir. The answer to this was a gruff All right, and the next thing was a heavy crash as the steamer struck a glancing blow with the bluff of her bow about our fore-rigging. There was a moment of confusion, yelling, and running about. Steam roared. Then somebody was heard saying, All clear, sir.... Are you all right? asked the gruff voice. I had jumped forward to see the damage, and hailed back, I think so. Easy astern, said the gruff voice. A bell jingled. What steamer is that? screamed Mahon. By that time she was no more to us than a bulky shadow maneuvering a little way off. They shouted at us some namea womans name, Miranda or Melissaor some such thing. This means another month in this beastly hole, said Mahon to me, as we peered with lamps about the splintered bulwarks and broken braces. But wheres the captain?We had not heard or seen anything of him all that time. We went aft to look. A doleful voice arose hailing somewhere in the middle of the dock, Judea ahoy!... How the devil did he get there?... Hallo! we shouted. I am adrift in our boat without oars, he cried. A belated waterman offered his services, and Mahon struck a bargain with him for half-a-crown to tow our skipper alongside; but it was Mrs. Beard that came up the ladder first. They had been floating about the dock in that mizzly cold rain for nearly an hour. I was never so surprised in my life.It appears that when he heard my shout Come up, he understood at once what was the matter, caught up his wife, ran on deck, and across, and down into our boat, which was fast to the ladder. Not bad for a sixty-year-old. Just imagine that old fellow saving heroically in his arms that old womanthe woman of his life. He set her down on a thwart, and was ready to climb back on board when the painter came adrift somehow, and away they went together. Of course in the confusion we did not hear him shouting. He looked abashed. She said cheerfully, I suppose it does not matter my losing the train now? No, Jennyyou go below and get warm, he growled. Then to us： A sailor has no business with a wifeI say. There I was, out of the ship. Well, no harm done this time. Lets go and look at what that fool of a steamer smashed.It wasnt much, but it delayed us three weeks. At the end of that time, the captain being engaged with his agents, I carried Mrs. Beards bag to the railway-station and put her all comfy into a third-class carriage. She lowered the window to say, You are a good young man. If you see JohnCaptain Beardwithout his muffler at night, just remind him from me to keep his throat well wrapped up. Certainly, Mrs. Beard, I said. You are a good young man; I noticed how attentive you are to Johnto Captain The train pulled out suddenly; I took my cap off to the old woman： I never saw her again... Pass the bottle.We went to sea next day. When we made that start for Bankok we had been already three months out of London. We had expected to be a fortnight or soat the outside.It was January, and the weather was beautifulthe beautiful sunny winter weather that has more charm than in the summer-time, because it is unexpected, and crisp, and you know it wont, it cant, last long. Its like a windfall, like a godsend, like an unexpected piece of luck.It lasted all down the North Sea, all down Channel; and it lasted till we were three hundred miles or so to the westward of the Lizards： then the wind went round to the souwest and began to pipe up. In two days it blew a gale. The Judea, hove to, wallowed on the Atlantic like an old candlebox. It blew day after day： it blew with spite, without interval, without mercy, without rest. The world was nothing but an immensity of great foaming waves rushing at us, under a sky low enough to touch with the hand and dirty like a smoked ceiling. In the stormy space surrounding us there was as much flying spray as air. Day after day and night after night there was nothing round the ship but the howl of the wind, the tumult of the sea, the noise of water pouring over her deck. There was no rest for her and no rest for us. She tossed, she pitched, she stood on her head, she sat on her tail, she rolled, she groaned, and we had to hold on while on deck and cling to our bunks when below, in a constant effort of body and worry of mind.One night Mahon spoke through the small window of my berth. It opened right into my very bed, and I was lying there sleepless, in my boots, feeling as though I had not slept for years, and could not if I tried. He said excitedlyYou got the sounding-rod in here, Marlow? I cant get the pumps to suck. By God! its no childs play.I gave him the sounding-rod and lay down again, trying to think of various thingsbut I thought only of the pumps. When I came on deck they were still at it, and my watch relieved at the pumps. By the light of the lantern brought on deck to examine the sounding-rod I caught a glimpse of their weary, serious faces. We pumped all the four hours. We pumped all night, all day, all the week,watch and watch. She was working herself loose, and leaked badlynot enough to drown us at once, but enough to kill us with the work at the pumps. And while we pumped the ship was going from us piecemeal： the bulwarks went, the stanchions were torn out, the ventilators smashed, the cabin-door burst in. There was not a dry spot in the ship. She was being gutted bit by bit. The long-boat changed, as if by magic, into matchwood where she stood in her gripes. I had lashed her myself, and was rather proud of my handiwork, which had withstood so long the malice of the sea. And we pumped. And there was no break in the weather. The sea was white like a sheet of foam, like a caldron of boiling milk; there was not a break in the clouds, nonot the size of a mans handno, not for so much as ten seconds. There was for us no sky, there were for us no stars, no sun, no universenothing but angry clouds and an infuriated sea. We pumped watch and watch, for dear life; and it seemed to last for months, for years, for all eternity, as though we had been dead and gone to a hell for sailors. We forgot the day of the week, the name of the month, what year it was, and whether we had ever been ashore. The sails blew away, she lay broadside on under a weather-cloth, the ocean poured over her, and we did not care. We turned those handles, and had the eyes of idiots. As soon as we had crawled on deck I used to take a round turn with a rope about the men, the pumps, and the mainmast, and we turned, we turned incessantly, with the water to our waists, to our necks, over our heads. It was all one. We had forgotten how it felt to be dry.And there was somewhere in me the thought： By Jove! This is the deuce of an adventuresomething you read about; and it is my first voyage as second mateand I am only twentyand here I am lasting it out as well as any of these men, and keeping my chaps up to the mark. I was pleased. I would not have given up the experience for worlds. I had moments of exultation. Whenever the old dismantled craft pitched heavily with her counter high in the air, she seemed to me to throw up, like an appeal, like a defiance, like a cry to the clouds without mercy, the words written on her stern： Judea, London. Do or Die.O youth! The strength of it, the faith of it, the imagination of it! To me she was not an old rattle-trap carting about the world a lot of coal for a freightto me she was the endeavour, the test, the trial of life. I think of her with pleasure, with affection, with regretas you would think of someone dead you have loved. I shall never forget her.... Pass the bottle.One night when tied to the mast, as I explained, we were pumping on, deafened with the wind, and without spirit enough in us to wish ourselves dead, a heavy sea crashed aboard and swept clean over us. As soon as I got my breath I shouted, as in duty bound, Keep on, boys! when suddenly I felt something hard floating on deck strike the calf of my leg. I made a grab at it and missed. It was so dark we could not see each others faces within a footyou understand.After that thump the ship kept quiet for a while, and the thing, whatever it was, struck my leg again. This time I caught itand it was a saucepan. At first, being stupid with fatigue and thinking of nothing but the pumps, I did not understand what I had in my hand. Suddenly it dawned upon me, and I shouted, Boys, the house on deck is gone. Leave this, and lets look for the cook.There was a deck-house forward, which contained the galley, the cooks berth, and the quarters of the crew. As we had expected for days to see it swept away, the hands had been ordered to sleep in the cabinthe only safe place in the ship. The steward, Abraham, however, persisted in clinging to his berth, stupidly, like a mulefrom sheer fright I believe, like an animal that wont leave a stable falling in an earthquake. So we went to look for him. It was chancing death, since once out of our lashings we were as exposed as if on a raft. But we went. The house was shattered as if a shell had exploded inside. Most of it had gone overboardstove, mens quarters, and their property, all was gone; but two posts, holding a portion of the bulkhead to which Abrahams bunk was attached, remained as if by a miracle. We groped in the ruins and came upon this, and there he was, sitting in his bunk, surrounded by foam and wreckage, jabbering cheerfully to himself. He was out of his mind; completely and for ever mad, with this sudden shock coming upon the fag-end of his endurance. We snatched him up, lugged him aft, and pitched him head-first down the cabin companion. You understand there was no time to carry him down with infinite precautions and wait to see how he got on. Those below would pick him up at the bottom of the stairs all right. We were in a hurry to go back to the pumps. That business could not wait. A bad leak is an inhuman thing.One would think that the sole purpose of that fiendish gale had been to make a lunatic of that poor devil of a mulatto. It eased before morning, and next day the sky cleared, and as the sea went down the leak took up. When it came to bending a fresh set of sails the crew demanded to put backand really there was nothing else to do. Boats gone, decks swept clean, cabin gutted, men without a stitch but what they stood in, stores spoiled, ship strained. We put her head for home, andwould you believe it? The wind came east right in our teeth. It blew fresh, it blew continuously. We had to beat up every inch of the way, but she did not leak so badly, the water keeping comparatively smooth. Two hours pumping in every four is no jokebut it kept her afloat as far as Falmouth.The good people there live on casualties of the sea, and no doubt were glad to see us. A hungry crowd of shipwrights sharpened their chisels at the sight of that carcass of a ship. And, by Jove! they had pretty pickings off us before they were done. I fancy the owner was already in a tight place. There were delays. Then it was decided to take part of the cargo out and calk her topsides. This was done, the repairs finished, cargo re-shipped; a new crew came on board, and we went outfor Bankok. At the end of a week we were back again. The crew said they werent going to Bankoka hundred and fifty days passagein a something hooker that wanted pumping eight hours out of the twenty-four; and the nautical papers inserted again the little paragraph： Judea. Barque. Tyne to Bankok; coals; put back to Falmouth leaky and with crew refusing duty.There were more delaysmore tinkering. The owner came down for a day, and said she was as right as a little fiddle. Poor old Captain Beard looked like the ghost of a Geordie skipperthrough the worry and humiliation of it. Remember he was sixty, and it was his first command. Mahon said it was a foolish business, and would end badly. I loved the ship more than ever, and wanted awfully to get to Bankok. To Bankok! Magic name, blessed name. Mesopotamia wasnt a patch on it. Remember I was twenty, and it was my first second mates billet, and the East was waiting for me.We went out and anchored in the outer roads with a fresh crewthe third. She leaked worse than ever. It was as if those confounded shipwrights had actually made a hole in her. This time we did not even go outside. The crew simply refused to man the windlass.They towed us back to the inner harbour, and we became a fixture, a feature, an institution of the place. People pointed us out to visitors as That ere bark thats going to Bankokhas been here six monthsput back three times. On holidays the small boys pulling about in boats would hail, Judea, ahoy! and if a head showed above the rail shouted, Where you bound to?Bankok? and jeered. We were only three on board. The poor old skipper mooned in the cabin. Mahon undertook the cooking, and unexpectedly developed all a Frenchmans genius for preparing nice little messes. I looked languidly after the rigging. We became citizens of Falmouth. Every shopkeeper knew us. At the barbers or tobacconists they asked familiarly, Do you think you will ever get to Bankok? Meantime the owner, the underwriters, and the charterers squabbled amongst themselves in London, and our pay went on.... Pass the bottle.It was horrid. Morally it was worse than pumping for life. It seemed as though we had been forgotten by the world, belonged to nobody, would get nowhere; it seemed that, as if bewitched, we would have to live for ever and ever in that inner harbour, a derision and a by-word to generations of long-shore loafers and dishonest boatmen. I obtained three months pay and a five days leave, and made a rush for London. It took me a day to get there and pretty well another to come backbut three months pay went all the same. I dont know what I did with it. I went to a music-hall, I believe, lunched, dined, and supped in a swell place in Regent Street, and was back to time, with nothing but a complete set of Byrons works and a new railway rug to show for three months work. The boatman who pulled me off to the ship said： Hallo! I thought you had left the old thing. She will never get to Bankok. Thats all you know about it, I said scornfullybut I didnt like that prophecy at all.Suddenly a man, some kind of agent to somebody, appeared with full powers. He had grog-blossoms all over his face, an indomitable energy, and was a jolly soul. We leaped into life again. A hulk came alongside, took our cargo, and then we went into dry dock to get our copper stripped. No wonder she leaked. The poor thing, strained beyond endurance by the gale, had, as if in disgust, spat out all the oakum of her lower seams. She was recalked, new coppered, and made as tight as a bottle. We went back to the hulk and re-shipped our cargo.Then on a fine moonlight night, all the rats left the ship.
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