Itisalsoimpossibletosaywhomhehadinhismindwhenheseizedthepen：Stein——myself——theworldatlarge——orwasthisonlytheaimlessstartledcryofasolitarymanconfrontedbyhisfate？“Anawfulthinghashappened，“
　　hewrotebeforeheflungthependownforthefirsttime；lookattheinkblotresemblingtheheadofanarrowunderthesewords。Afterawhilehehadtriedagain，scrawlingheavily，asifwithahandoflead，anotherline。“Imustnowatonce……“Thepenhadspluttered，andthattimehegaveitup。There’snothingmore；hehadseenabroadgulfthatneithereyenorvoicecouldspan。Icanunderstandthis。Hewasoverwhelmedbytheinexplicable；hewasoverwhelmedbyhisownpersonality——thegiftofthatdestinywhichhehaddonehisbesttomaster。
　　`Isendyoualsoanoldletter——averyoldletter。Itwasfoundcarefullypreservedinhiswriting-case。Itisfromhisfather，andbythedateyoucanseehemusthavereceiveditafewdaysbeforehejoinedthePatna。
　　Thusitmustbethelastletterheeverhadfromhome。Hehadtreasureditalltheseyears。Thegoodoldparsonfanciedhissailor-son。I’velookedinatasentencehereandthere。Thereisnothinginitexceptjustaffection。
　　Hetellshis“dearJames“thatthelastlongletterfromhimwasvery“honestandentertaining。“Hewouldnothavehim“judgemenharshlyorhastily。“
　　Therearefourpagesofit，easymoralityandfamilynews。Tomhad“takenorders。“Carrie’shusbandhad“moneylosses。“TheoldchapgoesonequablytrustingProvidenceandtheestablishedorderoftheuniverse，butalivetoitssmalldangersanditssmallmercies。Onecanalmostseehim，grey-hairedandsereneintheinviolableshelterofhisbook-lined，faded，andcomfortablestudy，whereforfortyyearshehadconscientiouslygoneoverandoveragaintheroundofhislittlethoughtsaboutfaithandvirtue，abouttheconductoflifeandtheonlypropermannerofdying；wherehehadwrittensomanysermons，wherehesitstalkingtohisboy，overthere，ontheothersideoftheearth。Butwhatofthedistance？Virtueisoneallovertheworld，andthereisonlyonefaith，oneconceivableconductoflife，onemannerofdying。Hehopeshis“dearJames“willneverforgetthat“whooncegiveswaytotemptation，intheveryinstanthazardshistotaldepravityandeverlastingruin。Thereforeresolvefixedlynever，throughanypossiblemotives，todoanythingwhichyoubelievetobewrong。“Thereisalsosomenewsofafavouritedog；andapony，“whichallyouboysusedtoride，“
　　hadgoneblindfromoldageandhadtobeshot。TheoldchapinvokesHeaven’sblessing；themotherandallthegirlsthenathomesendtheirlove……No，thereisnothingmuchinthatyellowfrayedletterflutteringoutofhischerishinggraspaftersomanyyears。Itwasneveranswered，butwhocansaywhatconversehemayhaveheldwithalltheseplacid，colourlessformsofmenandwomenpeoplingthatquietcorneroftheworldasfreeofdangerorstrifeasatomb，andbreathingequablytheairofundisturbedrectitude。Itseemsamazingthatheshouldbelongtoit，hetowhomsomanythings“hadcome。“Nothingevercametothem；theywouldneverbetakenunawares，andneverbecalledupontograpplewithfate。Heretheyallare，evokedbythemildgossipofthefather，allthesebrothersandsisters，boneofhisboneandfleshofhisflesh，gazingwithclearunconsciouseyes，whileIseemtoseehim，returnedatlast，nolongeramerewhitespeckattheheartofanimmensemystery，butoffullstature，standingdisregardedamongsttheiruntroubledshapes，withasternandromanticaspect，butalwaysmute，dark——underacloud。
　　`Thestoryofthelasteventsyoushallfindinthefewpagesenclosedhere。Youmustadmitthatitisromanticbeyondthewildestdreamsofhisboyhood，andyetthereistomymindasortofprofoundandterrifyinglogicinit，asifitwereourimaginationalonethatcouldsetlooseuponusthemightofanoverwhelmingdestiny。Theimprudenceofourthoughtsrecoilsuponourheads；whotoyswiththeswordshallperishbythesword。
　　Thisastoundingadventure，ofwhichthemostastoundingpartisthatitistrue，comesonasanunavoidableconsequence。Somethingofthesorthadtohappen。Yourepeatthistoyourselfwhileyoumarvelthatsuchathingcouldhappenintheyearofgracebeforelast。Butithashappened——andthereisnodisputingitslogic。
　　`IputitdownhereforyouasthoughIhadbeenaneyewitness。Myinformationwasfragmentary，butI’vefittedthepiecestogether，andthereisenoughofthemtomakeanintelligiblepicture。Iwonderhowhewouldhaverelatedithimself。Hehasconfidedsomuchinmethatattimesitseemsasthoughhemustcomeinpresentlyandtellthestoryinhisownwords，inhiscarelessyetfeelingvoice，withhisoffhandmanner，alittlepuzzled，alittlebothered，alittlehurt，butnowandthenbyawordoraphrasegivingoneoftheseglimpsesofhisveryownselfthatwereneveranygoodforpurposesoforientation。It’sdifficulttobelievehewillnevercome。
　　Ishallneverhearhisvoiceagain，norshallIseehissmoothtan-and-pinkfacewithawhitelineontheforehead，andtheyouthfuleyesdarkenedbyexcitementtoaprofound，unfathomableblue。’
　　LordJim：Chapter37CHAPTERXXXVII`ITallbeginswitharemarkableexploitofamancalledBrown，whostolewithcompletesuccessaSpanishschooneroutofasmallbaynearZamboanga。TillIdiscoveredthefellowmyinformationwasincomplete，butmostunexpectedlyIdidcomeuponhimafewhoursbeforehegaveuphisarrogantghost。Fortunatelyhewaswillingandabletotalkbetweenthechokingfitsofasthma，andhisrackedbodywrithedwithmaliciousexultationatthebarethoughtofJim。Heexultedthusattheideathathehad“paidoutthestuck-upbeggarafterall。“Hegloatedoverhisaction。
　　Ihadtobearthesunkenglareofhisfiercecrow-footedeyesifIwantedtoknow；andsoIboreit，reflectinghowmuchcertainformsofevilareakintomadness，derivedfromintenseegoism，inflamedbyresistance，tearingthesoultopieces，andgivingfactitiousvigourtothebody。ThestoryalsorevealsunsuspecteddepthsofcunninginthewretchedCornelius，whoseabjectandintensehateactslikeasubtleinspiration，pointingoutanunerringwaytowardsrevenge。
　　“`IcouldseedirectlyIsetmyeyesonhimwhatsortofafoolhewas，“
　　gaspedthedyingBrown。“Heaman!Hell!Hewasahollowsham。Asifhecouldn’thavesaidstraightout：“Handsoffmyplunder!“blasthim!Thatwouldhavebeenlikeaman!Rothissuperiorsoul!Hehadmethere——buthehadn’tdevilenoughinhimtomakeanendofme。Nothe!AthinglikethatlettingmeoffasifIwasn’tworthakick!……“Brownstruggleddesperatelyforbreath……“Fraud……Lettingmeoff……AndsoIdidmakeanendofhimafterall……“Hechokedagain……“I
　　expectthisthing’llkillme，butIshalldieeasynow。You……youhear……Idon’tknowyourname——Iwouldgiveyouafive-poundnoteif——ifIhadit——forthenews——ormyname’snotBrown……“Hegrinnedhorribly……“GentlemanBrown。“
　　`Hesaidallthesethingsinprofoundgasps，staringatmewithhisyelloweyesoutofalong，ravagedbrownface；hejerkedhisleftarm；
　　apepper-and-saltmattedbeardhungalmostintohislap；adirtyraggedblanketcoveredhislegs。IhadfoundhimoutinBangkokthroughthatbusybodySchomberg，thehotel-keeper，whohad，confidentially，directedmewheretolook。Itappearsthatasortofloafing，fuddledvagabond——awhitemanlivingamongstthenativeswithaSiamesewoman——hadconsidereditagreatprivilegetogiveasheltertothelastdaysofthefamousGentlemanBrown。
　　Whilehewastalkingtomeinthewretchedhovel，and，asitwere，fightingforeveryminuteofhislife，theSiamesewoman，withbigbarelegsandastupidcoarseface，satinadarkcornerchewingbetelstolidly。Nowandthenshewouldgetupforthepurposeofshooingachickenawayfromthedoor。Thewholehutshookwhenshewalked。Anuglyyellowchild，nakedandpot-belliedlikealittleheathengod，stoodatthefootofthecouch，fingerinmouth，lostinaprofoundandcalmcontemplationofthedyingman。
　　`Hetalkedfeverishly；butinthemiddleofaword，perhaps，aninvisiblehandwouldtakehimbythethroat，andhewouldlookatmedumblywithanexpressionofdoubtandanguish。HeseemedtofearthatIwouldgettiredofwaitingandgoaway，leavinghimwithhistaleuntold，withhisexultationunexpressed。Hediedduringthenight，Ibelieve，butbythattimeIhadnothingmoretolearn。
　　`SomuchastoBrown，forthepresent。
　　`Eightmonthsbeforethis，comingintoSamarang，IwentasusualtoseeStein。OnthegardensideofthehouseaMalayontheverandagreetedmeshyly，andIrememberedthatIhadseenhiminPatusan，inJim’shouse，amongstotherBugismenwhousedtocomeintheeveningtotalkinterminablyovertheirwarreminiscencesandtodiscussStateaffairs。Jimhadpointedhimouttomeonceasarespectablepettytraderowningasmallseagoingnativecraft，whohadshowedhimself“oneofthebestatthetakingofthestockade。“Iwasnotverysurprisedtoseehim，sinceanyPatusantraderventuringasfarasSamarangwouldnaturallyfindhiswaytoStein’shouse。
　　Ireturnedhisgreetingandpassedon。AtthedoorofStein’sroomIcameuponanotherMalayinwhonIrecognizedTamb’Itam。
　　`Iaskedhimatoncewhathewasdoingthere；itoccurredtomethatJimmighthavecomeonavisit。IownIwaspleasedandexcitedatthethought。Tamb’Itamlookedasifhedidnotknowwhattosay。“IsTuanJiminside？“Iasked，impatiently。“No，“hemumbled，hanginghisheadforamoment，andthenwithsuddenearnestness，“Hewouldnotfight。Hewouldnotfight，“herepeatedtwice。Asheseemedunabletosayanythingelse，Ipushedhimasideandwentin。
　　`Stein，tallandstooping，stoodaloneinthemiddleoftheroombetweentherowsofbutterflycases。“Ach!isityou，myfriend？“hesaid，sadly，peeringthroughhisglasses。Adrabsack-coatofalpacahung，unbuttoned，downtohisknees。HehadaPanamahatonhishead，andthereweredeepfurrowsonhispalecheeks。“What’sthematternow？“Iasked，nervously。
　　“There’sTamb’Itamthere……““Comeandseethegirl。Comeandseethegirl。Sheishere，“hesaid，withahalf-heartedshowofactivity。
　　Itriedtodetainhim，butwithgentleobstinacyhewouldtakenonoticeofmyeagerquestions。“Sheishere，sheishere，“herepeated，ingreatperturbation。“Theycameheretwodaysago。Anoldmanlikeme，astranger——sehenSie——cannotdomuch……Comethisway……Youngheartsareunforgiving……“Icouldseehewasinutmostdistress……“Thestrengthoflifeinthem，thecruelstrengthoflife……“Hemumbled，leadingmeroundthehouse；Ifollowedhim，lostindismalandangryconjectures。Atthedoorofthedrawing-roomhebarredmyway。“Helovedherverymuch？“hesaid，interrogatively，andIonlynodded，feelingsobitterlydisappointedthatIwouldnottrustmyselftospeak。“Veryfrightful，“hemurmured。
　　“Shecan’tunderstandme。Iamonlyastrangeoldman。Perhapsyou……sheknowsyou。Talktoher。Wecan’tleaveitlikethis。Tellhertoforgivehim。Itwasveryfrightful。““Nodoubt，“Isaid，exasperatedatbeinginthedark；“buthaveyouforgivenhim？“Helookedatmequeerly。“Youshallhear，“hesaid，andopeningthedoor，absolutelypushedmein。
　　`YouknowStein’sbighouseandthetwoimmensereceptionrooms，uninhabitedanduninhabitable，clean，fullofsolitudeandofshiningthingsthatlookasifneverbeheldbytheeyeofman？Theyarecoolonthehottestdays，andyouenterthemasyouwouldascrubbedcaveunderground。Ipassedthroughone，andintheotherIsawthegirlsittingattheendofabigmahoganytable，onwhichsherestedherhead，thefacehiddeninherarms。Thewaxedfloorreflectedherdimlyasthoughithadbeenasheetoffrozenwater。
　　Therattanscreensweredown，andthroughthestrangegreenishgloommadebythefoliageofthetreesoutside，astrongwindblewingusts，swayingthelongdraperiesofwindowsanddoorways。Herwhitefigureseemedshapedinsnow；thependentcrystalsofagreatchandelierclickedaboveherheadlikeglitteringicicles。Shelookedupandwatchedmyapproach。Iwaschilledasifthesevastapartmentshadbeenthecoldabodeofdespair。
　　`Sherecognizedmeatonce，andassoonasIhadstopped，lookingdownather：“Hehasleftme，“shesaid，quietly；“youalwaysleaveus——foryourownends。“Herfacewasset。Alltheheatoflifeseemedwithdrawnwithinsomeinaccessiblespotinherbreast。“Itwouldhavebeeneasytodiewithhim，“shewenton，andmadeaslightwearygestureasifgivinguptheincomprehensible。“Hewouldnot!Itwaslikeablindness——andyetitwasIwhowasspeakingtohim；itwasIwhostoodbeforehiseyes；itwasatmethathelookedallthetime!Ah!youarehard，treacherous，withouttruth，withoutcompassion。Whatmakesyousowicked？Orisitthatyouareallmad？“
　　`Itookherhand；itdidnotrespond，andwhenIdroppedit，ithungdowntothefloor。Thatindifference，moreawfulthantears，cries，andreproaches，seemedtodefytimeandconsolation。Youfeltthatnothingyoucouldsaywouldreachtheseatofthestillandbenumbingpain。
　　`Steinhadsaid，“Youshallhear。“Ididhear。Ihearditall，listeningwithamazement，withawe，tothetonesofherinflexibleweariness。Shecouldnotgrasptherealsenseofwhatshewastellingme，andherresentmentfilledmewithpityforher——forhim，too。Istoodrootedtothespotaftershehadfinished。Leaningonherarm，shestaredwithhardeyes，andthewindpassedingusts，thecrystalskeptonclickinginthegreenishgloom。