“Andgetotherstoseeit，too，“Iinsinuated，withaglanceatthebowedbackbyhisside。Chestersnortedatme。“Hiseyesarerightenough——don’tyouworry。Heain’tapuppy。““Oh，dear，no!“Isaid。“Comealong，CaptainRobinson，“heshouted，withasortofbullyingdeferenceundertherimoftheoldman’shat；theHolyTerrorgaveasubmissivelittlejump。Theghostofasteamerwaswaitingforthem，Fortuneonthatfairisle!TheymadeacuriouspairofArgonauts。Chesterstrodeonleisurely，wellsetup，portly，andofconqueringmien；theother，long，wasted，drooping，andhookedtohisarm，shuffledhiswitheredshankswithdesperatehaste。’
　　notstartinsearchofJimatonce，onlybecauseIhadreallyanappointmentwhichIcouldnotneglect。Then，asill-luckwouldhaveit，inmyagent’sofficeIwasfasteneduponbyafellowfreshfromMadagascarwithalittleschemeforawonderfulpieceofbusiness。
　　IthadsomethingtodowithcattleandcartridgesandaPrinceRavonalosomething；butthepivotofthewholeaffairwasthestupidityofsomeadmiral——AdmiralPierre，Ithink。Everythingturnedonthat，andthechapcouldn’tfindwordsstrongenoughtoexpresshisconfidence。Hehadglobulareyesstartingoutofhisheadwithafishyglitter，bumpsonhisforehead，andworehislonghairbrushedbackwithoutaparting。Hehadafavouritephrasewhichhekeptonrepeatingtriumphantly：“Theminimumofriskwiththemaximumofprofitismymotto。What？“Hemademyheadache，spoiledmytiffin，butgothisownoutofmeallright；andassoonasIhadshakenhimoff，Imadestraightforthewaterside。IcaughtsightofJimleaningovertheparapetofthequay。Threenativeboatmenquarrellingoverfiveannasweremakinganawfulrowathiselbow。Hedidn’thearmecomeup，butspunroundasiftheslightcontactofmyfingerhadreleasedacatch。
　　“Iwaslooking，“hestammered。Idon’trememberwhatIsaid，notmuchanyhow，buthemadenodifficultyinfollowingmetothehotel。
　　`Hefollowedmeasmanageableasalittlechild，withanobedientair，withnosortofmanifestation，ratherasthoughhehadbeenwaitingformetheretocomealongandcarryhimoff。IneednothavebeensosurprisedasIwasathistractability。Onalltheroundearth，whichtosomeseemssobigandthatothersaffecttoconsiderasrathersmallerthanamustard-seed，hehadnoplacewherehecould——whatshallIsay？——wherehecouldwithdraw。
　　That’sit!Withdraw——bealonewithhisloneliness。Hewalkedbymysideverycalm，glancinghereandthere，andonceturnedhisheadtolookafteraSidiboyfiremaninacutawaycoatandyellowishtrousers，whoseblackfacehadsilkygleamslikealumpofanthracitecoal。Idoubt，however，whetherhesawanything，orevenremainedallthetimeawareofmycompanionship，becauseifIhadnotedgedhimtothelefthere，orpulledhimtotherightthere，Ibelievehewouldhavegonestraightbeforehiminanydirectiontillstoppedbyawallorsomeotherobstacle。Isteeredhimintomybedroom，andsatdownatoncetowriteletters。Thiswastheonlyplaceintheworldunless，perhaps，theWalpoleReef——butthatwasnotsohandywherehecouldhaveitoutwithhimselfwithoutbeingbotheredbytherestoftheuniverse。Thedamnedthing——ashehadexpressedit——hadnotmadehiminvisible，butIbehavedexactlyasthoughhewere。NosoonerinmychairIbentovermywriting-desklikeamedievalscribe，and，butforthemovementofthehandholdingthepen，remainedanxiouslyquiet。Ican’tsayIwasfrightened；
　　butIcertainlykeptasstillasiftherehadbeensomethingdangerousintheroom，thatatthefirsthintofamovementonmypartwouldbeprovokedtopounceuponme。Therewasnotmuchintheroom——youknowhowthesebedroomsare——asortoffour-posterbedsteadunderamosquito-net，twoorthreechairs，thetableIwaswritingat，abarefloor。Aglassdooropenedonanupstairsveranda，andhestoodwithhisfacetoit，havingahardtimewithallpossibleprivacy。Duskfell；Ilitacandlewiththegreatesteconomyofmovementandasmuchprudenceasthoughitwereanillegalproceeding。
　　Thereisnodoubtthathehadaveryhardtimeofit，andsohadI，eventothepoint，Imustown，ofwishinghimtothedevil，oronWalpoleReefatleast。Itoccurredtomeonceortwicethat，afterall，Chesterwas，perhaps，themantodealeffectivelywithsuchadisaster。Thatstrangeidealisthadfoundapracticaluseforitatonce——unerringly，asitwere。
　　Itwasenoughtomakeonesuspectthat，maybe，hereallycouldseethetrueaspectofthingsthatappearedmysteriousorutterlyhopelesstolessimaginativepersons。Iwroteandwrote；Iliquidatedallthearrearsofmycorrespondence，andthenwentonwritingtopeoplewhohadnoreasonwhatevertoexpectfrommeagossipyletteraboutnothingatall。AttimesIstoleasidelongglance。Hewasrootedtothespot，butconvulsiveshuddersrandownhisback；hisshoulderswouldheavesuddenly。Hewasfighting，hewasfighting——mostlyforhisbreath，asitseemed。Themassiveshadows，castallonewayfromthestraightflameofthecandle，seemedpossessedofgloomyconsciousness；theimmobilityofthefurniturehadtomyfurtiveeyeanairofattention。Iwasbecomingfancifulinthemidstofmyindustriousscribbling；andthough，whenthescratchingofmypenstoppedforamoment，therewascompletesilenceandstillnessintheroom，Isufferedfromthatprofounddisturbanceandconfusionofthoughtwhichiscausedbyaviolentandmenacinguproar——ofaheavygaleatsea，forinstance。SomeofyoumayknowwhatImean——thatmingledanxiety，distress，andirritationwithasortofcravenfeelingcreepingin——notpleasanttoacknowledge，butwhichgivesaquietspecialmerittoone’sendurance。Idon’tclaimanymeritforstandingthestressofJim’semotions；Icouldtakerefugeintheletters；Icouldhavewrittentostrangersifnecessary。Suddenly，asIwastakingupafreshsheetofnotepaper，Iheardalowsound，thefirstsoundthat，sincewehadbeenshutuptogether，hadcometomyearsinthedimstillnessoftheroom。Iremainedwithmyheaddown，withmyhandarrested。Thosewhohavekeptvigilbyasick-bedhaveheardsuchfaintsoundsinthestillnessofthenightwatches，soundswrungfromarackedbody，fromawearysoul。Hepushedtheglassdoorwithsuchforcethatallthepanesrang：hesteppedout，andIheldmybreath，strainingmyearswithoutknowingwhatelseIexpectedtohear。HewasreallytakingtoomuchtoheartanemptyformalitywhichtoChester’srigorouscriticismseemedunworthythenoticeofamanwhocouldseethingsastheywere。
　　Anemptyformality；apieceofparchment。Well，well。Astotheinaccessibleguanodeposit，thatwasanotherstoryaltogether。Onecouldintelligiblybreakone’sheartoverthat。Afeebleburstofmanyvoicesmingledwiththetinkleofsilverandglassfloatedupfromthedining-roombelow；throughtheopendoortheouteredgeofthelightfrommycandlefellonhisbackfaintly；beyondallwasblack；hestoodonthebrinkofavastobscurity，likealonelyfigurebytheshoreofasombreandhopelessocean。TherewastheWalpoleReefinit——tobesure——aspeckinthedarkvoid，astrawforthedrowningman。MycompassionforhimtooktheshapeofthethoughtthatIwouldn’thavelikedhispeopletoseehimatthatmoment。Ifoundittryingmyself。Hisbackwasnolongershakenbyhisgasps；hestoodstraightasanarrow，faintlyvisibleandstill；andthemeaningofthisstillnesssanktothebottomofmysoullikeleadintothewater，andmadeitsoheavythatforasecondIwishedheartilythattheonlycourseleftopenformeweretopayforhisfuneral。Eventhelawhaddonewithhim。
　　Toburyhimwouldhavebeensuchaneasykindness!Itwouldhavebeensomuchinaccordancewiththewisdomoflife，whichconsistsinputtingoutofsightalltheremindersofourfolly，ofourweakness，ofourmortality；
　　allthatmakesagainstourefficiency——thememoryofourfailures，thehintsofourundyingfears，thebodiesofourdeadfriends。Perhapshedidtakeittoomuchtoheart。Andifsothen——Chester’soffer……AtthispointItookupafreshsheetandbegantowriteresolutely。Therewasnothingbutmyselfbetweenhimandthedarkocean。Ihadasenseofresponsibility。IfIspoke，wouldthatmotionlessandsufferingyouthleapintotheobscurity——clutchatthestraw？Ifoundouthowdifficultitmaybesometimestomakeasound。Thereisaweirdpowerinaspokenword。
　　Andwhythedevilnot？IwasaskingmyselfpersistentlywhileIdroveonwithmywriting。Allatonce，ontheblankpage，undertheverypointofthepen，thetwofiguresofChesterandhisantiquepartner，verydistinctandcomplete，woulddodgeintoviewwithstrideandgestures，asifreproducedinthefieldofsomeopticaltoy。Iwouldwatchthemforawhile。No!Theyweretoophantasmalandextravaganttoenterintoanyone’sfate。Andawordcarriesfar——veryfar——dealsdestructionthroughtimeasthebulletsgoflyingthroughspace。Isaidnothing；andhe，outtherewithhisbacktothelight，asifboundandgaggedbyalltheinvisiblefoesofman，madenostirandmadenosound。’
　　LordJim：Chapter16CHAPTERXVI`THEtimewascomingwhenIshouldseehimloved，trusted，admired，withalegendofstrengthandprowessformingroundhisnameasthoughhehadbeenthestuffofahero。It’strue——Iassureyou；
　　astrueasI’msittingheretalkingabouthiminvain。He，onhisside，hadthatfacultyofbeholdingatahintthefaceofhisdesireandtheshapeofhisdream，withoutwhichtheearthwouldknownoloverandnoadventurer。HecapturedmuchhonourandanArcadianhappinessIwon’tsayanythingaboutinnocenceinthebush，anditwasasgoodtohimasthehonourandtheArcadianhappinessofthestreetstoanotherman。Felicity，felicity——howshallIsayit？——isquaffedoutofagoldencupineverylatitude：theflavouriswithyou——withyoualone，andyoucanmakeitasintoxicatingasyouplease。Hewasofthesortthatwoulddrinkdeep，asyoumayguessfromwhatwentbefore。Ifoundhim，ifnotexactlyintoxicated，thenatleastflushedwiththeelixirathislips。Hehadnotobtaineditatonce。Therehadbeen，asyouknow，aperiodofprobationamongstinfernalship-chandlers，duringwhichhehadsufferedandIhadworriedabout——about——mytrust——youmaycallit。Idon’tknowthatIamcompletelyreassurednow，afterbeholdinghiminallhisbrilliance。Thatwasmylastviewofhim——inastronglight，dominating，andyetincompleteaccordwithhissurroundings——withthelifeoftheforestsandwiththelifeofmen。IownthatIwasimpressed，butImustadmittomyselfthatafterallthisisnotthelastingimpression。Hewasprotectedbyhisisolation，aloneofhisownsuperiorkind，inclosetouchwithNature，thatkeepsfaithonsucheasytermswithherlovers。ButIcannotfixbeforemyeyetheimageofhissafety。Ishallalwaysrememberhimasseenthroughtheopendoorofmyroom，taking，perhaps，toomuchtoheartthemereconsequencesofhisfailure。Iampleased，ofcourse，thatsomegood——andevensomesplendour——cameoutofmyendeavours；butattimesitseemstomeitwouldhavebeenbetterformypeaceofmindifIhadnotstoodbetweenhimandChester’sconfoundedlygenerousoffer。IwonderwhathisexuberantimaginationwouldhavemadeofWalpoleislet——thatmosthopelesslyforsakencrumbofdrylandonthefaceofthewaters。ItisnotlikelyIwouldeverhaveheard，forImusttellyouthatChester，aftercallingatsomeAustralianporttopatchuphisbrig-riggedsea-anachronism，steamedoutintothePacificwithacrewoftwenty-twohandsalltold，andtheonlynewshavingapossiblebearinguponthemysteryofhisfatewasthenewsofahurricanewhichissupposedtohavesweptinitscourseovertheWalpoleshoals，amonthorsoafterwards。NotavestigeoftheArgonautseverturnedup；
　　notasoundcameoutofthewaste。Finis!ThePacificisthemostdiscreetoflive，hot-temperedoceans：thechillyAntarcticcankeepasecret，too，butmoreinthemannerofagrave。
　　`Andthereisasenseofblessedfinalityinsuchdiscretion，whichiswhatweallmoreorlesssincerelyarereadytoadmit——forwhatelseisitthatmakestheideaofdeathsupportable？End!Finis!thepotentwordthatexorcisesfromthehouseoflifethehauntingshadowoffate。
　　Thisiswhat——notwithstandingthetestimonyofmyeyesandhisownearnestassurances——ImisswhenIlookbackuponJim’ssuccess。Whilethere’slifethereishope，truly；butthereisfear，too。Idon’tmeantosaythatIregretmyaction，norwillIpretendthatIcan’tsleepo’nightsinconsequence；stilltheideaobtrudesitselfthathemadesomuchofhisdisgracewhileitistheguiltalonethatmatters。Hewasnot——ifImaysayso——cleartome。Hewasnotclear。Andthereisasuspicionhewasnotcleartohimselfeither。Therewerehisfinesensibilities，hisfinefeelings，hisfinelongings——asortofsublimated，idealizedselfishness。
　　Hewas——ifyouallowmetosayso——veryfine；veryfine——andveryunfortunate。
　　Alittlecoarsernaturewouldnothavebornethestrain；itwouldhavehadtocometotermswithitself——withasigh，withagrunt，orevenwithaguffaw；astillcoarseronewouldhaveremainedinvulnerablyignorantandcompletelyuninteresting。
　　`Buthewastoointerestingortoounfortunatetobethrowntothedogs，oreventoChester。IfeltthiswhileIsatwithmyfaceoverthepaperandhefoughtandgasped，strugglingforhisbreathinthatterriblystealthyway，inmyroom；Ifeltitwhenherushedoutontheverandaasiftoflinghimselfover——anddidn’t；Ifeltitmoreandmoreallthetimeheremainedoutside，faintlylightedonthebackgroundofnight，asifstandingontheshoreofasombreandhopelesssea。