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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Ностромо
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- Стр. 182/274
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A
fire
built
against
the
staircase
had
burnt
down
impotently
to
a
low
heap
of
embers
.
The
hard
wood
had
failed
to
catch
;
only
a
few
steps
at
the
bottom
smouldered
,
with
a
creeping
glow
of
sparks
defining
their
charred
edges
.
At
the
top
he
saw
a
streak
of
light
from
an
open
door
.
It
fell
upon
the
vast
landing
,
all
foggy
with
a
slow
drift
of
smoke
.
That
was
the
room
.
He
climbed
the
stairs
,
then
checked
himself
,
because
he
had
seen
within
the
shadow
of
a
man
cast
upon
one
of
the
walls
.
It
was
a
shapeless
,
highshouldered
shadow
of
somebody
standing
still
,
with
lowered
head
,
out
of
his
line
of
sight
.
The
Capataz
,
remembering
that
he
was
totally
unarmed
,
stepped
aside
,
and
,
effacing
himself
upright
in
a
dark
corner
,
waited
with
his
eyes
fixed
on
the
door
.
The
whole
enormous
ruined
barrack
of
a
place
,
unfinished
,
without
ceilings
under
its
lofty
roof
,
was
pervaded
by
the
smoke
swaying
to
and
fro
in
the
faint
cross
draughts
playing
in
the
obscurity
of
many
lofty
rooms
and
barnlike
passages
.
Once
one
of
the
swinging
shutters
came
against
the
wall
with
a
single
sharp
crack
,
as
if
pushed
by
an
impatient
hand
.
A
piece
of
paper
scurried
out
from
somewhere
,
rustling
along
the
landing
.
The
man
,
whoever
he
was
,
did
not
darken
the
lighted
doorway
.
Twice
the
Capataz
,
advancing
a
couple
of
steps
out
of
his
corner
,
craned
his
neck
in
the
hope
of
catching
sight
of
what
he
could
be
at
,
so
quietly
,
in
there
.
But
every
time
he
saw
only
the
distorted
shadow
of
broad
shoulders
and
bowed
head
.
He
was
doing
apparently
nothing
,
and
stirred
not
from
the
spot
,
as
though
he
were
meditating
--
or
,
perhaps
,
reading
a
paper
.
And
not
a
sound
issued
from
the
room
.
Once
more
the
Capataz
stepped
back
.
He
wondered
who
it
was
--
some
Monterist
?
But
he
dreaded
to
show
himself
.
To
discover
his
presence
on
shore
,
unless
after
many
days
,
would
,
he
believed
,
endanger
the
treasure
.
With
his
own
knowledge
possessing
his
whole
soul
,
it
seemed
impossible
that
anybody
in
Sulaco
should
fail
to
jump
at
the
right
surmise
.
After
a
couple
of
weeks
or
so
it
would
be
different
.
Who
could
tell
he
had
not
returned
overland
from
some
port
beyond
the
limits
of
the
Republic
?
The
existence
of
the
treasure
confused
his
thoughts
with
a
peculiar
sort
of
anxiety
,
as
though
his
life
had
become
bound
up
with
it
.
It
rendered
him
timorous
for
a
moment
before
that
enigmatic
,
lighted
door
.
Devil
take
the
fellow
!
He
did
not
want
to
see
him
.
There
would
be
nothing
to
learn
from
his
face
,
known
or
unknown
.
He
was
a
fool
to
waste
his
time
there
in
waiting
.
Less
than
five
minutes
after
entering
the
place
the
Capataz
began
his
retreat
.
He
got
away
down
the
stairs
with
perfect
success
,
gave
one
upward
look
over
his
shoulder
at
the
light
on
the
landing
,
and
ran
stealthily
across
the
hall
.
But
at
the
very
moment
he
was
turning
out
of
the
great
door
,
with
his
mind
fixed
upon
escaping
the
notice
of
the
man
upstairs
,
somebody
he
had
not
heard
coming
briskly
along
the
front
ran
full
into
him
.
Both
muttered
a
stifled
exclamation
of
surprise
,
and
leaped
back
and
stood
still
,
each
indistinct
to
the
other
.
Nostromo
was
silent
.
The
other
man
spoke
first
,
in
an
amazed
and
deadened
tone
.
"
Who
are
you
?
"
Already
Nostromo
had
seemed
to
recognize
Dr.
Monygham
.
He
had
no
doubt
now
.
He
hesitated
the
space
of
a
second
.
The
idea
of
bolting
without
a
word
presented
itself
to
his
mind
.
No
use
!
An
inexplicable
repugnance
to
pronounce
the
name
by
which
he
was
known
kept
him
silent
a
little
longer
.
At
last
he
said
in
a
low
voice
--
"
A
Cargador
.
"
He
walked
up
to
the
other
.
Dr.
Monygham
had
received
a
shock
.
He
flung
his
arms
up
and
cried
out
his
wonder
aloud
,
forgetting
himself
before
the
marvel
of
this
meeting
.
Nostromo
angrily
warned
him
to
moderate
his
voice
.
The
Custom
House
was
not
so
deserted
as
it
looked
.
There
was
somebody
in
the
lighted
room
above
.
