5.Jim goes to Patusan

Marlow's cigar had gone out. He stood up, moved to the edge of the veranda, and stared out into the darkness. Behind him, the circle of listeners in their armchairs waited for the story to continue. At last, one of them said encouragingly, 'Well?'

Marlow turned to face them, carefully relit his cigar, and then continued with his story.

*　　*　　*

I don't suppose any of you have heard of Patusan? It doesn't matter. There are many stars in the sky that most people have never heard of, and which are of no importance to them anyway. Patusan was like one of these stars. It was occasionally mentioned by officials in Batavia, and it was known by name to a very few in the trading world. But nobody had ever been there, and, I suspect, nobody wanted to go there. That was where Stein arranged to send Jim. It was like sending him to the moon; he left his past world behind him, and started a completely new life.

Stein knew more about Patusan than anybody else. I have no doubt he had been there, perhaps looking for butterflies, when he was younger. It was at breakfast the next morning after our talk about Jim that he mentioned the place. I had just repeated what poor Brierly had said to me, 'He should creep away somewhere and hide.'

Stein looked up at me with interest. 'That could be done,' he said, drinking his coffee.

You know, bury himself somewhere,' I explained.

Yes, he is young, and could make another life for himself. Well, there is Patusan.' He added, 'And the woman is dead now.'

I didn't know the woman he had mentioned, but I learnt from Stein that she had been an intelligent, good-looking Dutch-Malay girl. She had married a worthless Portuguese man, who made her life extremely miserable. Because Stein felt sorry for her, he gave her husband a job, as manager of Stein & Company's trading-post in Patusan. Unfortunately, the Portuguese, whose name was Cornelius, was dishonest and lazy, so the trading-post lost money. Now that the woman had died, Stein wanted to replace Cornelius, and he generously suggested offering the job to Jim.

There may be some difficulty with Cornelius,' said Stein. 'He'll be angry with Jim for taking his job. I don't think he'll want to leave Patusan, so he may cause trouble. But that has nothing to do with me. As he has a daughter, I think I shall let him keep the house he's been living in, if he wants to stay.'

Patusan is an area of deep jungle, far up the river, about sixty kilometres from the sea. There is a native village of the same name. Behind the roofs of the native houses, you can see the forest, and behind that there are two steep hills very close together, separated by a narrow valley. I saw all this later, when I visited Jim in Patusan. We were standing outside the very fine house that he had built for himself, on a warm, silent evening, watching an almost full moon rise behind the black hills. Red, and round, and nearly perfect, it sailed slowly upwards between the sides of the valley, finally moving away above the hill-tops, like a soul escaping from a buried body.

Wonderful effect,' said Jim by my side. 'Worth seeing, isn't it?' He spoke proudly, and that made me smile. Did he feel he could control even the movements of the moon? He was in control of so many things in Patusan! Things that had once seemed as far beyond his control as the moon and the stars.

But Stein and I had no idea of this when we talked about sending him to Patusan. We both wanted to get him away, away from himself rather than anyone else. We knew he would be safer in a quiet, lonely place, with nobody who knew or cared about his past.

I must tell you, however, that I had another reason for sending him away. I was about to go home to England for a while, and I think I wanted, more than I myself realized at the time, to be free of him—do you understand? —before I left. I was going home, and he had come to me from there, with his miserable trouble and his shadowy dreams, like a man carrying something heavy on his tired shoulders in a thick mist. I cannot say I had ever seen him clearly, right up to the day when I had my last view of him. But the less I understood him, the closer I felt to him. After all, I did not know much more about myself. And then, I repeat, I was going home—to that distant place we all come from. We, the famous and the unknown, travel in our thousands all over the world, earning beyond the seas our good name, our fortune or perhaps just enough bread for that day. But when we go home, we meet again our friends, our family, and others—those whom we obey and those whom we love. More than that, we have to meet the soul of the country, that lives in its air, in its valleys, in its rivers and its trees—a wordless friend and judge. To breathe in the peace of home, to be happy there, I think we have to return with a clear conscience. I know that Jim felt something of this. He would never go home now. Never! He could not bear the idea of it.

And so, like a much older brother, I felt responsible for Jim. I was worried about what would happen to him. For example, he could start drinking. The world is small, and I was afraid of meeting him one day, in a foreign port, a red-eyed, dirty drunk, asking to borrow five dollars from me. You know how often that happens, when you can only just recognize a sadly changed figure from the past, who reappears in your life for a moment. That seemed the worst danger I could see for him or for me, but I knew I had no imagination. And Jim had plenty. People with imagination often go further than others in life, for good or evil. How could I tell what Jim would do?

You see, I'm telling you so much about my fears for him because there is not much of the story left. I hear you ask, was I right to be afraid for him? I won't say. Perhaps you can decide, better than I can. Anyway, Jim did not go wrong, not at all. In fact, he developed wonderfully, and lived his life bravely and honestly to the end. I ought to be delighted, because I was closely involved in his success. But somehow I am not as pleased as I expected to be. I ask myself if he really managed to carry himself out of that mist in which I had seen him. And another thing, the last word has not been said—will probably never be said. Our lives are too short for anyone to judge us fully. And we ourselves never have time to say our last word—the last word of our love, our trust, our sadness, our guilt, our fight against the darkness.

I won't tell you much more about Jim. In my opinion he reached greatness, but you may see it differently. My words may not be enough to persuade you, as I'm afraid you people think more of your bodies than your imaginations. I don't want to be rude; it is sensible to have no dreams—and safe—and useful—and boring. But surely, my friends, you too have known, once in your time, the brightness of life, the fire that burns in you so strongly and unexpectedly, then, too soon, disappears!

Jim's fame never reached the outside world, of course, from a place so lonely and far from anywhere. At one time Patusan was famous for its pepper, and in the seventeenth century Dutch and English traders travelled far through the jungle in their desperate search for this valuable plant. These heroic adventurers did not care about disease, hunger or death. Some of them left their bones whitening in a distant land, so that companies at home could make fortunes selling pepper. For a hundred years, they sent back news of Patusan, describing its rivers and jungle, its natives and customs, and the great Sultan who controlled the fate of all who lived there.

But now the pepper has all gone, nobody writes or talks about Patusan any longer, and the present Sultan is a young boy whose uncles have stolen his fortune.

It was Stein who told me all this. He was perfectly honest with me over the breakfast table that morning. It was an extremely dangerous place, where people could lose their lives at any time. This situation was mostly caused by Rajah Allang, the worst of the young Sultan's uncles. He controlled the river and the land around it, and, by robbing and murdering, made the local Malays fear and obey him. They could not get away, because they had nowhere to go and no way of escaping.

Well, I told Jim about Stein's generous offer, but I also described what I knew of Patusan and the dangers involved. I watched the expression on his face change from tiredness to surprise, interest and delight.

This is the chance I've been dreaming of! I'm so grateful to Mr Stein! But of course it's you I have to thank...'

I spoke quickly to stop his flow of words. 'Stein was helped when he was young, and now he wants to help you. And I just mentioned your name, that's all.'

He reddened, saying shyly, 'You've always trusted me.'

That's true. But do you trust yourself?'

I've got to prove myself. But you won't be sorry you trusted me, I promise!'

Remember, you must decide. You are responsible for this—this plan, you and no one else.'

Why, this is exactly what I want!'

I smiled. He was so enthusiastic! 'You see,' I said, 'you wanted to go out and shut the door behind you.'

Did I?' he asked, looking suddenly unhappy. 'Well, you've shown me a door, haven't you?'

Yes. If you go through it, I can promise it will be shut behind you. No one will ask what has happened to you in that distant, unknown place. You will be alone, and you will have to manage everything yourself. The outside world will forget about you completely.'

Forget about me completely, that's it!' he whispered to himself, his eyes shining delightedly.

Well, if you understand the conditions, you'd better find a horse and trap, and drive to Mr Stein's house as soon as possible.' And before I had finished speaking, he had run out of the room.

He did not return until next morning, because he had stayed there for dinner and the night. He could not stop talking.

What a wonderful man Mr Stein is! And how well he speaks English! In my pocket I've got a letter for Cornelius—you know, the man I'm replacing. And look—here's a silver ring that Mr Stein has given me. It was given to him by an old Malay friend of his called Doramin. He's one of the most important chiefs in Patusan. It seems that they fought side by side when Mr Stein was there, having all those adventures, so if I show Doramin this ring, he'll help me. I think Mr Stein saved his life once—he's a brave man, isn't he? He's hoping things are all right in Patusan—he hasn't had any news for over a year, so he doesn't really know. And the river's closed, but I'm sure I'll be able to get in.'

He almost frightened me with his excited talk. After all, he wasn't a boy going on holiday, but a grown man making a dangerous journey into the unknown. He noticed my expression, and it seemed to calm him a bit. 'You probably don't realize,' he said, 'how important the ring is to me. It means a friend, and it's a good thing to have a friend. Like you.' He paused. 'I'm going to stay there, you know.'

If you live long enough, you'll want to come back.'

Come back to what?' he asked absently.

Is it to be never, then?' I asked after a moment.

Never,' he repeated dreamily, then suddenly jumped up. 'My God! Mr Stein's ship sails in two hours' time!'

I went back to my own ship, and Jim came to say goodbye to me there. I gave him a gun and two boxes of ammunition, in case he needed them. 'The gun may help you to remain,' I said, then corrected myself quickly, 'may help you to get in, I mean.' But Jim was not troubled by this. He thanked me warmly, shouted goodbye, and jumped into his own boat. As his boatmen rowed away, I suddenly noticed he had left the ammunition behind, and I ordered my men to get a boat into the water at once. Jim was making his men row like madmen, and we could not catch him before he reached Stein's ship. In fact, our two boats arrived at the same moment.

We both stepped on to the deck, where I gave him the ammunition boxes. The ship was ready to sail. Stein's captain, a half-caste, spoke to me. He did not think Jim had any chance of survival, and was only prepared to take his passenger to the mouth of the river. 'Anybody who goes further into Patusan will certainly die,' he said. 'Between you and me, your friend is already a dead man.'

Then, while the captain shouted his orders, and the sails rose around us, Jim and I stood alone together on deck, shook hands, and said our last hurried words to each other. I no longer felt annoyed with him, as I had sometimes done in the past. It was clear to me what miserable danger he was going into. I believe I called him 'dear boy' and he called me 'old man'. For an unexpected, short moment we were very close.

Don't worry,' he said. 'I promise to take care of myself. My God! Nothing can touch me. What a wonderful opportunity!'

As my boat pulled away from the ship, I saw him high up on deck, in the light of the dying sun, waving to me. I heard, 'You shall hear of me.' Because the sun was in my eyes, I couldn't see him well—it was my fate never to see him clearly—but I must say he looked very unlike a dead man to me.

trading-post n. a store or small settlement established for trading, typically in a remote place （设在人口稀少地区的）贸易站。

generously adv. liberal in giving and sharing 慷慨地。

beyond one's control impossible for sb. to control 不受某人控制。

wordless adj. without words, silent 沉默的。

drunk n. a person who is drunk or who habitually drinks to excess 醉鬼。

involved adj. connected, typically on an emotional or personal level 有关联的，参与进去的。

Sultan n. a ruler in some Muslim countries 苏丹（某些伊斯兰国家最高统治者的称号）。

Rajah n. the king or ruler of an Indian state （印度的）王公。

enthusiastic adj. showing a lot of interest and excitement about something 满腔热情的。

ammunition n. a supply or quantity of bullets and shells 弹药。

half-caste n. a person of mixed race 混血儿。

mouth n. the opening or entrance to a harbour or bay （江河的）入海口。

annoyed adj. slightly angry 烦恼的。

5．吉姆去帕图桑

马洛抽完雪茄，站起来走到阳台边，凝视着一片黑暗。听众围坐在他身后的几把扶手椅上，等着他把故事讲下去。最后有一个人充满期待地问：“后来呢？”

马洛转过身面向他们，小心地重新点起雪茄，继续讲故事。

*　　*　　*

我想你们没有人听说过帕图桑吧？这没有关系。天上有很多星星，大多数人从来都没有听说过，这其实对他们也不重要。帕图桑就像这样的一颗星星。它偶尔会被巴达维亚的官员提及，商界也有少数人知道它的名字。但没有人去过那儿，我想也没有人想去那儿。斯坦就打算把吉姆送到这个地方。这就像把他送到月球上；他会把过去的世界丢在身后，开始崭新的生活。

斯坦比谁都更了解帕图桑。我确信他去过那里，也许是年轻的时候去寻找蝴蝶。就在我们谈话后的第二天早上吃早饭的时候，他提到了这个地方。当时我刚刚重复了可怜的布赖尔利对我说的话，“他应当逃到某个地方藏起来。”

斯坦饶有兴味地抬头看着我，边喝咖啡边说：“这倒可以。”

“你知道，让他去到某个不为人知的地方。”我解释着。

“对，他还年轻，能够为自己创造出另一番生活。嗯，他可以去帕图桑。”他补充说，“那个女人现在死了。”

我不认识他说的那位女子，但斯坦告诉了我一些她的事：她聪明、漂亮，是荷兰和马来西亚的混血。她嫁给了一个一无是处的葡萄牙男人，他毁了她的一辈子。斯坦可怜她，于是给她丈夫找了份活儿，在帕图桑管理斯坦公司的贸易站。不幸的是，那个名叫科尼利厄斯的葡萄牙人既爱耍滑头，又是个懒骨头，因此贸易站亏损了。既然现在这位女子已经不在人世，斯坦打算让其他人代替科尼利厄斯，他慷慨地提出把这份工作给吉姆。

“科尼利厄斯那边可能会有些麻烦，”斯坦说，“他会因为吉姆抢走这份工作而对他怀恨在心。我想他不愿意离开帕图桑，所以可能会制造一些麻烦，但这些与我无关。他有一个女儿，我想，如果他想留下来的话，我会让他继续保留现在的房子。”

帕图桑在丛林深处，位于河流上游很远的地方，距离大海60公里。当地有一个同名的村子。越过村子的屋顶，可以看到后面的森林，森林背后是两座陡峭的山，挨得很近，中间有一条狭长的山谷。这些是我后来去帕图桑看望吉姆时见到的。那是个温暖、宁静的夜晚，我们站在他自己盖的那间精巧的屋子外面，看着一轮将满的月亮从黑黝黝的山上升起。圆月泛着红色，看上去近乎完美，在山谷中慢慢升起，最终跃出山顶，宛如灵魂从被埋葬的尸体中逃逸。

“这景象多棒。”吉姆在我身边说，“值得一看吧？”他自豪地说。我微微一笑。他难道认为连月亮的移动也在他的控制中吗？他掌握着帕图桑的这么多东西！而这些事曾经就和月亮还有星星一样遥远，是他望尘莫及的。

但斯坦和我商量把吉姆送去帕图桑时，我们从没有想过这些。我们都想把他送走，与其说让他远离其他人，不如说让他远离自己。我们知道，在一个宁静、孤独，谁都不知道，也不在乎他的过去的地方，他会更安全。

但我必须告诉你们，当初我想把吉姆送走还有另一个原因。那时我正打算回英格兰老家待一段时间，所以希望在离开之前摆脱他，现在想想，当时这种想法强得我自己都没意识到——你们能理解吗？我就要动身回家了，可他却从英格兰来到我面前，带着痛苦的折磨和虚幻的梦想，就像一个在浓雾中用疲惫的肩膀扛着重物的人。直到最后一次见面我都不敢说我看清过他。但我对他了解越少，反而感觉越亲近。毕竟，我对自己也并不怎么了解。那么，我再说一遍，我当时正打算回家——我们都从那个遥远的地方而来。无论功成名就，还是默默无闻，我们都成群结队地奔赴大海彼岸，在世界各地为名声、财富，抑或只是足够当天填饱肚子的面包而打拼。但还乡之时，我们将见到朋友、家人和其他的人——那些我们遵从和热爱的人。更有甚者，我们还要再次感受这个国度的灵魂，它存活在空气、山谷、河流和树木中——它是一位无言的朋友与裁决者。为了感受到家的安宁，为了在那儿能快乐地生活，我想我们应当带着干干净净的良心回去。我知道吉姆也有这种感觉。事到如今，他永远都不会回去了。永远不会！连这么想想也让他受不了。

因此，我像一个老大哥一样，深感自己对吉姆所负的责任。我担心他的将来。比如，他可能开始酗酒。世界这么小，我害怕某一天会在一个外国港口遇见他，一个脏兮兮的红眼睛醉汉向我要5美元。你们知道这种事情是很常见的，而那时你只能辨认出一个潦落不堪的昔日轮廓，在一瞬间重现在你的生命中。这是我预见到的对吉姆和我而言最糟糕的危险，虽然我知道自己没有什么想象力，但吉姆的想象力很丰富。想象力丰富的人在生活中总是走得比别人更远，或许是往好的方向走，或许是往坏的方向走。我怎么知道吉姆会做些什么呢？

你看，我一直在说我对他有这么多担心，因为剩下的故事不多了。我听见你们问，我是否应该这样为他担心。我不会回答。也许你们可以去判断，你们会判断得更好。不管怎样，吉姆没有走错，一点儿也没有。事实上，他走得非常好，一直勇敢而诚实地走到了生命的尽头。我应当感到高兴，因为我与他的成功有密切的关系。然而，我并没有像自己所料想的那样开心。我问自己，他真的从我看到他时包围他的那片雾气中走出来了吗？另外，他的一生还没有最后的定论——也许永远不会有。人生苦短，任何人都无法对我们做出全面的评判。而我们永远都没有时间为自己定论——表达我们的爱、信任、悲哀、罪恶感以及与黑暗的抗争。

关于吉姆的故事我没有什么要说给你们听的了。在我看来他很了不起，但你们可能会有不同的看法，我的话也许不足以说服你们，因为我担心你们更在乎实体而不是想象。我不想无礼；没有梦想是理智的——安全的——有益的——但也是乏味的。不过可以肯定的是，朋友们，你们在某个时刻也曾经懂得生命的光华，那团火焰在你心中燃烧得那么浓烈，那么出人意料，之后却转瞬间消逝了！

当然，吉姆的名声从未传到外面的世界，他所在的地方太偏僻了，离哪儿都很遥远。帕图桑曾因胡椒名噪一时，在17世纪，荷兰和英国的商人深入丛林，不顾一切地寻找这种名贵的植物。这些英勇的探险者不畏疾病、饥饿和死亡。为了让家乡的公司通过贩卖胡椒赚取财富，他们中有些人埋骨于遥远的异乡。一百年里，他们向家乡送回帕图桑的消息，描述着这里的河流、丛林、土著人和当地的风俗习惯，以及掌控着每个居民命运的伟大的苏丹。

但现在那里没有胡椒了，也没有人去写或是去谈论帕图桑了，现任的苏丹是个孩子，他的叔叔们偷走了他的财富。

这些都是斯坦告诉我的。那天早上他在早餐桌上对我坦言那里是一个极其危险的地方，人们随时可能丧命。很多时候这是王公阿朗造成的，他是小苏丹的叔叔中最坏的一个。他控制着河流及其周围的土地，又通过抢夺和杀戮让当地的马来人畏惧并顺从他。他们无法离开，因为他们无处可去，也没有办法逃走。

我把斯坦的慷慨提议告诉了吉姆，也说了我所知道的帕图桑的情况和存在的危险。我看见他疲惫的脸流露出惊讶，闪烁着兴趣和喜悦。

“这就是我梦想的机会！我太感谢斯坦先生了！但当然我也应该感谢你……”

我赶紧打断了他的话，“斯坦年轻时也受过别人的帮助，所以现在他想帮助你。我不过提了你的名字，仅此而已。”

他脸红了，不好意思地说：“你总是那么相信我。”

“是的。但你相信自己吗？”

“我会证明自己的。我保证你不会为相信我而后悔！”

“记住，你必须作出决定。这件事由你决定，只能由你，其他任何人都不行。”

“啊，这恰恰就是我想要的呀！”

我微笑着。他是那么有激情！“你看，”我说，“你想走出来，关上身后那扇门。”

“是吗？”他问道，突然显得不开心，“哦，你给我指了一扇门，是吗？”

“是的。如果你走过这扇门，我保证它会在你身后关上。在那个偏僻的、不知名的地方，没有人会去问及你的往事。你会孤单一人，独自去处理每件事。外面的世界会把你彻底忘掉。”

“彻底把我忘掉，正是这样！”他低声对自己说，他的眼睛闪着快乐的光。

“好吧，如果你明白这些情况，最好找一辆马车，尽快赶到斯坦先生家。”我的话还没说完，他就已经跑出去了。

他直到第二天早上才回来，他在斯坦家吃了饭，又留宿了一晚。他对我说个不停。

“斯坦先生太好了！他的英语说得真棒！我的口袋里装着给科尼利厄斯的信——你知道，就是我要顶替的那个人。看——这是斯坦先生给我的一枚银戒指。这是他的一位名叫多拉曼的马来老朋友送给他的。他是帕图桑最有地位的头领之一。斯坦先生曾在那儿和他并肩战斗，经历了各种危险，所以如果我把这枚戒指给他看，他就会帮助我。我想斯坦先生曾救过他一命——斯坦是个勇敢的人，不是吗？他希望帕图桑的一切安然无恙——他已经一年多都没有那边的消息了，所以也不清楚那边情况怎么样。河已经被封住了，但我相信我能够进去。”

他激情四溢的讲话差点儿把我吓着了。毕竟，他不是一个要去度假的孩子，而是一个将踏上未知世界的危险征程的成年人。他注意到我的表情，似乎平静了一点儿。他说：“你也许意识不到这枚戒指对我意味着什么。它意味着一个朋友，有朋友是一件好事。像你这样的朋友。”他停顿了一下，又说，“我会留在那儿生活，你知道。”

“如果你能活很久，你也许还想回来。”

“回来干什么呢？”他一脸茫然地问。

“那你永远不回来了？”过了一会儿，我问。

“永远不，”他心不在焉地重复着，然后突然跳了起来，“天啊！斯坦先生的船两个小时后就要开走了！”

我回到自己的船上，吉姆来向我告别。我给了他一杆枪和两盒子弹，以备不时之需。“枪也许能帮你活下来，”我说完又赶紧纠正，“我是说有枪或许能帮助你进去。”但吉姆对此毫不在乎。他热情洋溢地感谢我，大声和我道别，然后跳到自己的小船上。那船离开后，我突然发现他把子弹落下了，我命令手下立即划船去追。吉姆让船上的人发疯似地往前冲，所以直到他到达斯坦的船，我们才赶上他。实际上两艘船是同时到达的。

我们都上了甲板，我把装子弹的盒子交给他。船准备启航了。斯坦的船长是一个混血儿，他和我聊了起来。他认为吉姆活不下来，他只准备把他的乘客带到河流入海口。“进入帕图桑的人都必死无疑，”他说，“咱们俩私下说，你的朋友已经是个死人了。”

然后，船长大声发出命令，船帆在我们身边升起，吉姆和我在甲板上单独站在一起，相互握手，匆匆对彼此说了最后想说的话。他不再像以前那样让我感到烦恼。我很清楚他将面对怎样可怕的危险。我相信当时我叫他“亲爱的孩子”，他叫我“老伯”。在那一瞬间，我们出乎意料地亲近。

“别担心，”他说，“我保证会照顾好自己。老天！什么都不会伤害到我的。这是个多好的机会啊！”

当我的小船离开大船时，我看见他高高地站在甲板上，在落日的余辉中朝我挥手。我听见他说：“你会听到我的消息的。”因为迎着太阳，我看不清他——我注定永远都看不清他——但我必须说，在我看来，他一点儿都不像要死的样子。