HeisoneoftheEnglishnovelistswhoseworksIreadforthefirsttimeinEnglish。WithmenofEuropeanreputation，withDickensandWalterScottandThackeray，itwasotherwise。MyfirstintroductiontoEnglishimaginativeliteraturewas"NicholasNickleby。"ItisextraordinaryhowwellMrs。NicklebycouldchatterdisconnectedlyinPolishandthesinisterRalphrageinthatlanguage。AstotheCrummlesfamilyandthefamilyofthelearnedSqueersitseemedasnaturaltothemastheirnativespeech。Itwas，Ihavenodoubt，anexcellenttranslation。Thismusthavebeenintheyear’70。ButIreallybelievethatIamwrong。ThatbookwasnotmyfirstintroductiontoEnglishliterature。Myfirstacquaintancewas（orwere）the"TwoGentlemenofVerona，"andthatintheveryMS。ofmyfather’stranslation。ItwasduringourexileinRussia，anditmusthavebeenlessthanayearaftermymother’sdeath，becauseIremembermyselfintheblackblousewithawhiteborderofmyheavymourning。Wewerelivingtogether，quitealone，inasmallhouseontheoutskirtsofthetownofT——。Thatafternoon，insteadofgoingouttoplayinthelargeyardwhichwesharedwithourlandlord，Ihadlingeredintheroominwhichmyfathergenerallywrote。WhatemboldenedmetoclamberintohischairI
　　amsureIdon’tknow，butacoupleofhoursafterwardshediscoveredmekneelinginitwithmyelbowsonthetableandmyheadheldinbothhandsovertheMS。ofloosepages。Iwasgreatlyconfused，expectingtogetintotrouble。Hestoodinthedoorwaylookingatmewithsomesurprise，buttheonlythinghesaidafteramomentofsilencewas：
　　"Readthepagealoud。"
　　Luckilythepagelyingbeforemewasnotoverblottedwitherasuresandcorrections，andmyfather’shandwritingwasotherwiseextremelylegible。WhenIgottotheendhenoddedandIflewoutofdoorsthinkingmyselfluckytohaveescapedreproofforthatpieceofimpulsiveaudacity。Ihavetriedtodiscoversincethereasonofthismildness，andIimaginethatallunknowntomyselfIhadearned，inmyfather’smind，therighttosomelatitudeinmyrelationswithhiswriting-table。Itwasonlyamonthbefore，orperhapsitwasonlyaweekbefore，thatIhadreadtohimaloudfrombeginningtoend，andtohisperfectsatisfaction，ashelayonhisbed，notbeingverywellatthetime，theproofsofhistranslationofVictorHugo’s"ToilersoftheSea。"Suchwasmytitletoconsideration，Ibelieve，andalsomyfirstintroductiontotheseainliterature。IfIdonotrememberwhere，howandwhenIlearnedtoread，Iamnotlikelytoforgettheprocessofbeingtrainedintheartofreadingaloud。Mypoorfather，anadmirablereaderhimself，wasthemostexactingofmasters。IreflectproudlythatImusthavereadthatpageof"TwoGentlemenofVerona"tolerablywellattheageofeight。ThenexttimeImetthemwasina5s。one-volumeeditionofthedramaticworksofWilliamShakespeare，readinFalmouth，atoddmomentsoftheday，tothenoisyaccompanimentofcaulkers’malletsdrivingoakumintothedeck-seamsofashipindrydock。Wehadrunin，inasinkingconditionandwiththecrewrefusingdutyafteramonthofwearybattlingwiththegalesoftheNorthAtlantic。Booksareanintegralpartofone’slifeandmyShakespeareanassociationsarewiththatfirstyearofourbereavement，thelastIspentwithmyfatherinexile（hesentmeawaytoPolandtomymother’sbrotherdirectlyhecouldbracehimselfupfortheseparation），andwiththeyearofhardgales，theyearinwhichIcamenearesttodeathatsea，firstbywaterandthenbyfire。
　　ThosethingsIremember，butwhatIwasreadingthedaybeforemywritinglifebeganIhaveforgotten。IhaveonlyavaguenotionthatitmighthavebeenoneofTrollope’spoliticalnovels。AndIremember，too，thecharacteroftheday。Itwasanautumndaywithanopalineatmosphere，aveiled，semi-opaque，lustrousday，withfierypointsandflashesofredsunlightontheroofsandwindowsopposite，whilethetreesofthesquarewithalltheirleavesgonewereliketracingsofindianinkonasheetoftissuepaper。ItwasoneofthoseLondondaysthathavethecharmofmysteriousamenity，offascinatingsoftness。TheeffectofopalinemistwasoftenrepeatedatBessboroughGardensonaccountofthenearnesstotheriver。
　　ThereisnoreasonwhyIshouldrememberthateffectmoreonthatdaythanonanyotherday，exceptthatIstoodforalongtimelookingoutofthewindowafterthelandlady’sdaughterwasgonewithherspoilofcupsandsaucers。Iheardherputthetraydowninthepassageandfinallyshutthedoor;andstillI
　　remainedsmokingwithmybacktotheroom。ItisveryclearthatIwasinnohastetotaketheplungeintomywritinglife，ifasplungethisfirstattemptmaybedescribed。Mywholebeingwassteepeddeepintheindolenceofasailorawayfromthesea，thesceneofnever-endinglabourandofunceasingduty。Foruttersurrendertoindolenceyoucannotbeatasailorashorewhenthatmoodisonhim，themoodofabsoluteirresponsibilitytastedtothefull。ItseemstomethatIthoughtofnothingwhatever，butthisisanimpressionwhichishardlytobebelievedatthisdistanceofyears。WhatIamcertainofis，thatIwasveryfarfromthinkingofwritingastory，thoughitispossibleandevenlikelythatIwasthinkingofthemanAlmayer。
　　Ihadseenhimforthefirsttimesomefouryearsbeforefromthebridgeofasteamermooredtoaricketylittlewharffortymilesup，moreorless，aBorneanriver。Itwasveryearlymorningandaslightmist，anopalinemistasinBessboroughGardensonlywithoutthefieryflicksonroofandchimney-potfromtheraysoftheredLondonsun，promisedtoturnpresentlyintoawoollyfog。
　　Barringasmalldug-outcanoeontherivertherewasnothingmovingwithinsight。Ihadjustcomeupyawningfrommycabin。
　　TheserangandtheMalaycrewwereoverhaulingthecargochainsandtryingthewinches;theirvoicessoundedsubduedonthedeckbelowandtheirmovementswerelanguid。Thattropicaldaybreakwaschilly。TheMalayquartermaster，cominguptogetsomethingfromthelockersonthebridge，shiveredvisibly。Theforestsaboveandbelowandontheoppositebanklookedblackanddank;
　　wetdrippedfromtherigginguponthetightlystretcheddeckawnings，anditwasinthemiddleofashudderingyawnthatI
　　caughtsightofAlmayer。Hewasmovingacrossapatchofburntgrass，ablurredshadowyshapewiththeblurredbulkofahousebehindhim，alowhouseofmats，bamboosandpalm-leaveswithahigh-pitchedroofofgrass。
　　Hesteppeduponthejetty。Hewascladsimplyinflappingpyjamasofcretonnepattern（enormousflowerswithyellowpetalsonadisagreeableblueground）andathincottonsingletwithshortsleeves。Hisarms，baretotheelbow，werecrossedonhischest。Hisblackhairlookedasifithadnotbeencutforaverylongtimeandacurlywispofitstrayedacrosshisforehead。IhadheardofhimatSingapore;Ihadheardofhimonboard;Ihadheardofhimearlyinthemorningandlateatnight;
　　Ihadheardofhimattiffinandatdinner;IhadheardofhiminaplacecalledPuloLautfromahalf-castegentlemanthere，whodescribedhimselfasthemanagerofacoal-mine;whichsoundedcivilisedandprogressivetillyouheardthattheminecouldnotbeworkedatpresentbecauseitwashauntedbysomeparticularyatrociousghosts。IhadheardofhiminaplacecalledDongola，intheIslandofCelebes，whentheRajahofthatlittle-knownseaport（youcangetnoanchoragethereinlessthanfifteenfathom，whichisextremelyinconvenient）cameonboardinafriendlywaywithonlytwoattendants，anddrankbottleafterbottleofsoda-waterontheafter-skylightwithmygoodfriendandcommander，CaptainC——。AtleastIheardhisnamedistinctlypronouncedseveraltimesinalotoftalkinMalaylanguage。Ohyes，Ihearditquitedistinctly——Almayer，Almayer——andsawCaptainC——smilewhilethefatdingyRajahlaughedaudibly。TohearaMalayRajahlaughoutrightisarareexperienceIcanassureyou。AndIoverheadmoreofAlmayer’snameamongstourdeckpassengers（mostlywanderingtradersofgoodrepute）astheysatallovertheship——eachmanfencedroundwithbundlesandboxes——onmats，onpillows，onquilts，onbilletsofwood，conversingofIslandaffairs。Uponmyword，IheardthemutterofAlmayer’snamefaintlyatmidnight，whilemakingmywayaftfromthebridgetolookatthepatenttaffrail-logtinklingitsquarter-milesinthegreatsilenceofthesea。Idon’tmeantosaythatourpassengersdreamedaloudofAlmayer，butitisindubitablethattwoofthematleast，whocouldnotsleepapparentlyandweretryingtocharmawaythetroubleofinsomniabyalittlewhisperedtalkatthatghostlyhour，werereferringinsomewayorothertoAlmayer。ItwasreallyimpossibleonboardthatshiptogetawaydefinitelyfromAlmayer;andaverysmallponytiedupforwardandwhiskingitstailinsidethegalley，tothegreatembarrassmentofourChinamancook，wasdestinedforAlmayer。Whathewantedwithaponygoodnessonlyknows，sinceIamperfectlycertainhecouldnotrideit;buthereyouhavetheman，ambitious，aimingatthegrandiose，importingapony，whereasinthewholesettlementatwhichheusedtoshakedailyhisimpotentfist，therewasonlyonepaththatwaspracticableforapony：aquarterofamileatmost，hedgedinbyhundredsofsquareleaguesofvirginforest。Butwhoknows？TheimportationofthatBaliPonymighthavebeenpartofsomedeepscheme，ofsomediplomaticplan，ofsomehopefulintrigue。WithAlmayeronecouldnevertell。Hegovernedhisconductbyconsiderationsremovedfromtheobvious，byincredibleassumptions，whichrenderedhislogicimpenetrabletoanyreasonableperson。Ilearnedallthislater。ThatmorningseeingthefigureinpyjamasmovinginthemistIsaidtomyself："That’stheman。"
　　Hecamequiteclosetotheship’ssideandraisedaharassedcountenance，roundandflat，withthatcurlofblackhairovertheforeheadandaheavy，painedglance。
　　"Goodmorning。"
　　"Goodmorning。"
　　Helookedhardatme：Iwasanewface，havingjustreplacedthechiefmatehewasaccustomedtosee;andIthinkthatthisnoveltyinspiredhim，asthingsgenerallydid，withdeep-seatedmistrust。
　　"Didn’texpectyouintillthisevening，"heremarkedsuspiciously。
　　Idon’tknowwhyheshouldhavebeenaggrieved，butheseemedtobe。Itookpainstoexplaintohimthathavingpickedupthebeaconatthemouthoftheriverjustbeforedarkandthetideserving，CaptainC——wasenabledtocrossthebarandtherewasnothingtopreventhimgoingupriveratnight。
　　"CaptainC——knowsthisriverlikehisownpocket，"Iconcludeddiscursively，tryingtogetonterms。
　　"Better，"saidAlmayer。
　　LeaningovertherailofthebridgeIlookedatAlmayer，wholookeddownatthewharfinaggrievedthought。Heshuffledhisfeetalittle;heworestrawslipperswiththicksoles。Themorningfoghadthickenedconsiderably。Everythingroundusdripped：thederricks，therails，everysingleropeintheship——
　　asifafitofcryinghadcomeupontheuniverse。
　　Almayeragainraisedhisheadandintheaccentsofamanaccustomedtothebuffetsofevilfortuneaskedhardlyaudibly：
　　"Isupposeyouhaven’tgotsuchathingasaponyonboard？"
　　Itoldhimalmostinawhisper，forheattunedmycommunicationstohisminorkey，thatwehadsuchathingasapony，andI
　　hinted，asgentlyasIcould，thathewasconfoundedlyinthewaytoo。IwasveryanxioustohavehimlandedbeforeIbegantohandlethecargo。Almayerremainedlookingupatmeforalongwhilewithincredulousandmelancholyeyesasthoughitwerenotasafethingtobelievemystatement。Thispatheticmistrustinthefavourableissueofanysortofaffairtouchedmedeeply，andIadded：
　　"Hedoesn’tseemabittheworseforthepassage。He’saniceponytoo。"
　　Almayerwasnottobecheeredup;forallanswerheclearedhisthroatandlookeddownagainathisfeet。Itriedtoclosewithhimonanothertack。
　　"ByJove！"Isaid。"Aren’tyouafraidofcatchingpneumoniaorbronchitisorsomething，walkingaboutinasingletinsuchawetfog？"
　　Hewasnottobepropitiatedbyashowofinterestinhishealth。
　　Hisanswerwasasinister"Nofear，"asmuchastosaythateventhatwayofescapefrominclementfortunewasclosedtohim。
　　"Ijustcamedown……"hemumbledafterawhile。
　　"Wellthen，nowyou’rehereIwilllandthatponyforyouatonceandyoucanleadhimhome。Ireallydon’twanthimondeck。
　　He’sintheway。"
　　Almayerseemeddoubtful。Iinsisted：
　　"Why，Iwilljustswinghimoutandlandhimonthewharfrightinfrontofyou。I’dmuchratherdoitbeforethehatchesareoff。Thelittledevilmayjumpdowntheholdordosomeotherdeadlything。"
　　"There’sahalter？"postulatedAlmayer。
　　"Yes，ofcoursethere’sahalter。"AndwithoutwaitinganymoreIleanedoverthebridgerail。
　　"Serang，landTuanAlmayer’spony。"
　　Thecookhastenedtoshutthedoorofthegalleyandamomentlateragreatscufflebeganondeck。Theponykickedwithextremeenergy，thekalashesskippedoutoftheway，theserangissuedmanyordersinacrackedvoice。Suddenlytheponyleapeduponthefore-hatch。Hislittlehoofsthunderedtremendously;heplungedandreared。Hehadtossedhismaneandhisforelockintoastateofamazingwildness，hedilatedhisnostrils，bitsoffoamfleckedhisbroadlittlechest，hiseyesblazed。Hewassomethingunderelevenhands;hewasfierce，terrible，angry，warlike，hesaidha！ha！distinctly，heragedandthumped——andsixteenable-bodiedkalashesstoodroundhimlikedisconcertednursesroundaspoiltandpassionatechild。Hewhiskedhistailincessantly;hearchedhisprettyneck;hewasperfectlydelightful;hewascharminglynaughty。Therewasnotanatomofviceinthatperformance;nosavagebaringofteethandlyingbackofears。Onthecontrary，heprickedthemforwardinacomicallyaggressivemanner。Hewastotallyunmoralandlovable;
　　Iwouldhavelikedtogivehimbread，sugar，carrots。Butlifeisasternthingandthesenseofdutytheonlysafeguide。SoI
　　steeledmyheartandfrommyelevatedpositiononthebridgeI
　　orderedthementoflingthemselvesuponhiminabody。
　　Theelderlyserang，emittingastrangeinarticulatecry，gavetheexample。Hewasanexcellentpettyofficer——verycompetentindeed，andamoderateopiumsmoker。Therestoftheminonegreatrushsmotheredthatpony。Theyhungontohisears，tohismane，tohistail;theylayinpilesacrosshisback，seventeeninall。Thecarpenter，seizingthehookofthecargo-chain，flunghimselfontopofthem。Averysatisfactorypettyofficertoo，buthestuttered。Haveyoueverheardalight-yellow，lean，sad，earnestChinamanstutterinpidgin-English？It’sveryweirdindeed。Hemadetheeighteenth。Icouldnotseetheponyatall;
　　butfromtheswayingandheavingofthatheapofmenIknewthattherewassomethingaliveinside。
　　FromthewharfAlmayerhailedinquaveringtones：
　　"Oh，Isay！"
　　Wherehestoodhecouldnotseewhatwasgoingonondeckunlessperhapsthetopsofthemen’sheads;hecouldonlyhearthescuffle，themightythuds，asiftheshipwerebeingknockedtopieces。Ilookedover："Whatisit？"
　　"Don’tletthembreakhislegs，"heentreatedmeplaintively。
　　"Oh，nonsense！He’sallrightnow。Hecan’tmove。"
　　Bythattimethecargo-chainhadbeenhookedtothebroadcanvasbeltroundthepony’sbody，thekalashessprangoffsimultaneouslyinalldirections，rollingovereachother，andtheworthyserang，makingadashbehindthewinch，turnedthesteamon。
　　"Steady！"Iyelled，ingreatapprehensionofseeingtheanimalsnatcheduptotheveryheadofthederrick。
　　OnthewharfAlmayershuffledhisstrawslippersuneasily。Therattleofthewinchstopped，andinatense，impressivesilencethatponybegantoswingacrossthedeck。
　　Howlimphewas！Directlyhefelthimselfintheairherelaxedeverymuscleinamostwonderfulmanner。Hisfourhoofsknockedtogetherinabunch，hisheadhungdown，andhistailremainedpendentinanervelessandabsoluteimmobility。HeremindedmevividlyofthepatheticlittlesheepwhichhangsonthecollaroftheOrderoftheGoldenFleece。Ihadnoideathatanythingintheshapeofahorsecouldbesolimpasthat，eitherlivingordead。Hiswildmanehungdownlumpily，ameremassofinanimatehorsehair;hisaggressiveearshadcollapsed，butashewentswayingslowlyacrossthefrontofthebridgeInoticedanastutegleaminhisdreamy，half-closedeye。Atrustworthyquartermaster，hisglanceanxiousandhismouthonthebroadgrin，waseasingoverthederrickwatchfully。Isuperintended，greatlyinterested。
　　"So！Thatwilldo。"
　　Thederrick-headstopped。Thekalasheslinedtherail。Theropeofthehalterhungperpendicularandmotionlesslikeabell-pullinfrontofAlmayer。Everythingwasverystill。Isuggestedamicablythatheshouldcatchholdoftheropeandmindwhathewasabout。Heextendedaprovokinglycasualandsuperiorhand。
　　"Lookoutthen！Loweraway！"
　　Almayergatheredintheropeintelligentlyenough，butwhenthepony’shoofstouchedthewharfhegavewayallatoncetoamostfoolishoptimism。Withoutpausing，withoutthinking，almostwithoutlooking，hedisengagedthehooksuddenlyfromthesling，andthecargo-chain，afterhittingthepony’squarters，swungbackagainsttheship’ssidewithanoisy，rattlingslap。I
　　supposeImusthaveblinked。IknowImissedsomething，becausethenextthingIsawwasAlmayerlyingflatonhisbackonthejetty。Hewasalone。
　　AstonishmentdeprivedmeofspeechlongenoughtogiveAlmayertimetopickhimselfupinaleisurelyandpainfulmanner。Thekalashesliningtherailhadalltheirmouthsopen。Themistflewinthelightbreeze，andithadcomeoverquitethickenoughtohidetheshorecompletely。
　　"Howonearthdidyoumanagetolethimgetaway？"Iaskedscandalised。
　　Almayerlookedintothesmartingpalmofhisrighthand，butdidnotanswermyinquiry。
　　"Wheredoyouthinkhewillgetto？"Icried。"Arethereanyfencesanywhereinthisfog？Canheboltintotheforest？
　　What’stobedonenow？"
　　Almayershruggedhisshoulders。
　　"Someofmymenaresuretobeabout。Theywillgetholdofhimsoonerorlater。"
　　"Soonerorlater！That’sallveryfine，butwhataboutmycanvassling——he’scarrieditoff。Iwantitnow，atonce，tolandtwoCelebescows。"
　　SinceDongolawehadonboardapairoftheprettylittleislandcattleinadditiontothepony。Tiedupontheothersideoftheforedecktheyhadbeenwhiskingtheirtailsintotheotherdoorofthegalley。ThesecowswerenotforAlmayer，however;theywereinvoicedtoAbdullahbinSelim，hisenemy。Almayer’sdisregardofmyrequisiteswascomplete。
　　"IfIwereyouIwouldtrytofindoutwherehe’sgone，"I
　　insisted。"Hadn’tyoubettercallyourmentogetherorsomething？Hewillthrowhimselfdownandcuthisknees。Hemayevenbreakaleg，youknow。"
　　ButAlmayer，plungedinabstractedthought，didnotseemtowantthatponyanymore。AmazedatthissuddenindifferenceIturnedallhandsoutonshoretohuntforhimonmyownaccount，or，atanyrate，tohuntforthecanvasslingwhichhehadroundhisbody。Thewholecrewofthesteamer，withtheexceptionoffiremenandengineers，rushedupthejettypastthethoughtfulAlmayerandvanishedfrommysight。Thewhitefogswallowedthemup;andagaintherewasadeepsilencethatseemedtoextendformilesupanddownthestream。Stilltaciturn，Almayerstartedtoclimbonboard，andIwentdownfromthebridgetomeethimontheafterdeck。
　　"WouldyoumindtellingthecaptainthatIwanttoseehimveryparticularly？"heaskedmeinalowtone，lettinghiseyesstrayallovertheplace。
　　"Verywell。Iwillgoandsee。"
　　WiththedoorofhiscabinwideopenCaptainC——，justbackfromthebathroom，bigandbroad-chested，wasbrushinghisthick，damp，iron-greyhairwithtwolargebrushes。
　　"Mr。Almayertoldmehewantedtoseeyouveryparticularly，sir。"
　　SayingthesewordsIsmiled。Idon’tknowwhyIsmiledexceptthatitseemedabsolutelyimpossibletomentionAlmayer’snamewithoutasmileofasort。Ithadnottobenecessarilyamirthfulsmile。TurninghisheadtowardsmeCaptainC——smiledtoo，ratherjoylessly。
　　"Theponygotawayfromhim——eh？"
　　"Yessir。Hedid。"
　　"Whereishe？"
　　"Goodnessonlyknows。"
　　"No。ImeanAlmayer。Lethimcomealong。"
　　Thecaptain’sstateroomopeningstraightondeckunderthebridge，IhadonlytobeckonfromthedoorwaytoAlmayer，whohadremainedaft，withdowncasteyes，ontheveryspotwhereIhadlefthim。Hestrolledupmoodily，shookhandsandatonceaskedpermissiontoshutthecabindoor。
　　"Ihaveaprettystorytotellyou，"werethelastwordsIheard。
　　Thebitternessoftonewasremarkable。
　　Iwentawayfromthedoor，ofcourse。ForthemomentIhadnocrewonboa...剩余内容请长按扫描二维码或下载丁香书院APP继续免费看：

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