"Conrad, Joseph - Almayer's Folly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Conrad Joseph)

consented. Almayer, with youth's natural craving for change, was
nothing loth, and packing his few belongings, started in the
Flash on one of those long cruises when the old seaman was wont
to visit almost every island in the archipelago. Months slipped
by, and Lingard's friendship seemed to increase. Often pacing
the deck with Almayer, when the faint night breeze, heavy with
aromatic exhalations of the islands, shoved the brig gently along
under the peaceful and sparkling sky, did the old seaman open his
heart to his entranced listener. He spoke of his past life, of
escaped dangers, of big profits in his trade, of new combinations
that were in the future to bring profits bigger still. Often he
had mentioned his daughter, the girl found in the pirate prau,
speaking of her with a strange assumption of fatherly tenderness.
"She must be a big girl now," he used to say. "It's nigh unto
four years since I have seen her! Damme, Almayer, if I don't
think we will run into Sourabaya this trip." And after such a
declaration he always dived into his cabin muttering to himself,
"Something must be done--must be done." More than once he would
astonish Almayer by walking up to him rapidly, clearing his
throat with a powerful "Hem!" as if he was going to say
something, and then turning abruptly away to lean over the
bulwarks in silence, and watch, motionless, for hours, the gleam
and sparkle of the phosphorescent sea along the ship's side. It
was the night before arriving in Sourabaya when one of those
attempts at confidential communication succeeded. After clearing
his throat he spoke. He spoke to some purpose. He wanted
Almayer to marry his adopted daughter. "And don't you kick
because you're white!" he shouted, suddenly, not giving the
surprised young man the time to say a word. "None of that with
me! Nobody will see the colour of your wife's skin. The dollars
are too thick for that, I tell you! And mind you, they will be
thicker yet before I die. There will be millions, Kaspar!
Millions I say! And all for her--and for you, if you do what you
are told."

Startled by the unexpected proposal, Almayer hesitated, and
remained silent for a minute. He was gifted with a strong and
active imagination, and in that short space of time he saw, as in
a flash of dazzling light, great piles of shining guilders, and
realised all the possibilities of an opulent existence. The
consideration, the indolent ease of life--for which he felt
himself so well fitted--his ships, his warehouses, his
merchandise (old Lingard would not live for ever), and, crowning
all, in the far future gleamed like a fairy palace the big
mansion in Amsterdam, that earthly paradise of his dreams, where,
made king amongst men by old Lingard's money, he would pass the
evening of his days in inexpressible splendour. As to the other
side of the picture--the companionship for life of a Malay girl,
that legacy of a boatful of pirates--there was only within him a
confused consciousness of shame that he a white man-- Still, a