| s-2
| The old one sat on her chair. |
| s-3
| Her flat cloth slippers were propped up on a foot-warmer, and a cat reposed on her lap. |
| s-4
| She wore a starched white affair on her head, had a wart on one cheek, and silver-rimmed spectacles hung on the tip of her nose. |
| s-5
| She glanced at me above the glasses. |
| s-6
| The swift and indifferent placidity of that look troubled me. |
| s-7
| Two youths with foolish and cheery countenances were being piloted over, and she threw at them the same quick glance of unconcerned wisdom. |
| s-8
| She seemed to know all about them and about me too. |
| s-9
| An eerie feeling came over me. |
| s-10
| She seemed uncanny and fateful. |
| s-11
| Often far away there I thought of these two, guarding the door of Darkness, knitting black wool as for a warm pall, one introducing, introducing continuously to the unknown, the other scrutinizing the cheery and foolish faces with unconcerned old eyes. |
| s-12
| Ave! Old knitter of black wool. Morituri te salutant. |
| s-13
| Not many of those she looked at ever saw her again – not half, by a long way. |
| s-14
| There was yet a visit to the doctor. |
| s-15
| A simple formality assured me the secretary, with an air of taking an immense part in all my sorrows. |
| s-16
| Accordingly a young chap wearing his hat over the left eyebrow, some clerk I suppose, – there must have been clerks in the business, though the house was as still as a house in a city of the dead, – came from somewhere up-stairs, and led me forth. |
| s-17
| He was shabby and careless, with ink-stains on the sleeves of his jacket, and his cravat was large and billowy, under a chin shaped like the toe of an old boot. |
| s-18
| It was a little too early for the doctor, so I proposed a drink, and thereupon he developed a vein of joviality. As we sat over our vermouths he glorified the Company's business, and by-and-by I expressed casually my surprise at him not going out there. |
| s-19
| He became very cool and collected all at once. |
| s-20
| I am not such a fool as I look, quoth Plato to his disciples, he said sententiously, emptied his glass with great resolution, and we rose. |
| s-21
| The old doctor felt my pulse, evidently thinking of something else the while. |
| s-22
| Good, good for there, he mumbled, and then with a certain eagerness asked me whether I would let him measure my head. |
| s-23
| Rather surprised, I said Yes, when he produced a thing like calipers and got the dimensions back and front and every way, taking notes carefully. |
| s-24
| He was an unshaven little man in a threadbare coat like a gaberdine, with his feet in slippers, and I thought him a harmless fool. |
| s-25
| I always ask leave, in the interests of science, to measure the crania of those going out there, he said. |
| s-26
| And when they come back, too? I asked. |
| s-27
| Oh, I never see them, he remarked; 'and, moreover, the changes take place inside, you know. |
| s-28
| He smiled, as if at some quiet joke. |
| s-29
| So you are going out there. |
| s-30
| Famous. Interesting too. |
| s-31
| He gave me a searching glance, and made another note. |
| s-32
| Ever any madness in your family?' he asked, in a matter-of-fact tone. |
| s-33
| I felt very annoyed. |
| s-34
| Is that question in the interests of science too? |
| s-35
| It would be, he said, without taking notice of my irritation, 'interesting for science to watch the mental changes of individuals, on the spot, but... |
| s-36
| Are you an alienist? I interrupted. |
| s-37
| Every doctor should be – a little, answered that original, imperturbably. |
| s-38
| 'I have a little theory which you Messieurs who go out there must help me to prove. |
| s-39
| This is my share in the advantages my country shall reap from the possession of such a magnificent dependency. |
| s-40
| The mere wealth I leave to others. |
| s-41
| Pardon my questions, but you are the first Englishman coming under my observation.... |
| s-42
| 'I hastened to assure him I was not in the least typical. |
| s-43
| If I were, said I, I wouldn't be talking like this with you. |
| s-44
| What you say is rather profound, and probably erroneous, he said, with a laugh. |
| s-45
| Avoid irritation more than exposure to the sun. |
| s-46
| Adieu. |
| s-47
| How do you English say, eh? Good-by. |
| s-48
| Ah! Good-by. |
| s-49
| Adieu. |
| s-50
| In the tropics one must before everything keep calm. |
| s-51
| '... He lifted a warning forefinger.... |
| s-52
| 'Du calme, du calme. |
| s-53
| Adieu. |
| s-54
| One thing more remained to do – say good-by to my excellent aunt. |
| s-55
| I found her triumphant. |
| s-56
| I had a cup of tea – the last decent cup of tea for many days – and in a room that most soothingly looked just as you would expect a lady's drawing-room to look, we had a long quiet chat by the fireside. |
| s-57
| In the course of these confidences it became quite plain to me I had been represented to the wife of the high dignitary, and goodness knows to how many more people besides, as an exceptional and gifted creature – a piece of good fortune for the Company – a man you don't get hold of every day. |
| s-58
| Good heavens! |
| s-59
| and I was going to take charge of a two-penny-halfpenny river-steamboat with a penny whistle attached! |
| s-60
| It appeared, however, I was also one of the Workers, with a capital – you know. Something like an emissary of light, something like a lower sort of apostle. |
| s-61
| There had been a lot of such rot let loose in print and talk just about that time, and the excellent woman, living right in the rush of all that humbug, got carried off her feet. |
| s-62
| She talked about 'weaning those ignorant millions from their horrid ways', till, upon my word, she made me quite uncomfortable. |
| s-63
| Another mine on the cliff went off, followed by a slight shudder of the soil under my feet. |
| s-64
| The work was going on. |
| s-65
| The work! |
| s-66
| And this was the place where some of the helpers had withdrawn to die. |
| s-67
| They were dying slowly – it was very clear. |
| s-68
| They were not enemies, they were not criminals, they were nothing earthly now, – nothing but black shadows of disease and starvation, lying confusedly in the greenish gloom. |
| s-69
| Brought from all the recesses of the coast in all the legality of time contracts, lost in uncongenial surroundings, fed on unfamiliar food, they sickened, became inefficient, and were then allowed to crawl away and rest. |
| s-70
| These moribund shapes were free as air – and nearly as thin. |
| s-71
| I began to distinguish the gleam of eyes under the trees. |
| s-72
| Then, glancing down, I saw a face near my hand. |
| s-73
| The black bones reclined at full length with one shoulder against the tree, and slowly the eyelids rose and the sunken eyes looked up at me, enormous and vacant, a kind of blind, white flicker in the depths of the orbs, which died out slowly. |
| s-74
| The man seemed young – almost a boy – but you know with them it's hard to tell. |
| s-75
| I found nothing else to do but to offer him one of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket. |
| s-76
| The fingers closed slowly on it and held – there was no other movement and no other glance. |
| s-77
| He had tied a bit of white worsted round his neck – Why? |
| s-78
| Where did he get it? |
| s-79
| Was it a badge – an ornament – a charm – a propitiatory act? |
| s-80
| Was there any idea at all connected with it? |
| s-81
| It looked startling round his black neck, this bit of white thread from beyond the seas. |
| s-82
| Near the same tree two more bundles of acute angles sat with their legs drawn up. |
| s-83
| One, with his chin propped on his knees, stared at nothing, in an intolerable and appalling manner: his brother phantom rested its forehead, as if overcome with a great weariness; and all about others were scattered in every pose of contorted collapse, as in some picture of a massacre or a pestilence. |
| s-84
| While I stood horror-struck, one of these creatures rose to his hands and knees, and went off on all-fours towards the river to drink. |
| s-85
| He lapped out of his hand, then sat up in the sunlight, crossing his shins in front of him, and after a time let his woolly head fall on his breastbone. |
| s-86
| I didn't want any more loitering in the shade, and I made haste towards the station. |
| s-87
| When near the buildings I met a white man, in such an unexpected elegance of get-up that in the first moment I took him for a sort of vision. |
| s-88
| I saw a high starched collar, white cuffs, a light alpaca jacket, snowy trousers, a clear necktie, and varnished boots. No hat. |
| s-89
| Hair parted, brushed, oiled, under a green-lined parasol held in a big white hand. |
| s-90
| He was amazing, and had a penholder behind his ear. |
| s-91
| I shook hands with this miracle, and I learned he was the Company's chief accountant, and that all the bookkeeping was done at this station. |
| s-92
| He had come out for a moment, he said, 'to get a breath of fresh air.' |
| s-93
| The expression sounded wonderfully odd, with its suggestion of sedentary desk-life. |
| s-94
| I wouldn't have mentioned the fellow to you at all, only it was from his lips that I first heard the name of the man who is so indissolubly connected with the memories of that time. |
| s-95
| Moreover, I respected the fellow. |
| s-96
| Yes; I respected his collars, his vast cuffs, his brushed hair. |
| s-97
| His appearance was certainly that of a hairdresser's dummy; but in the great demoralization of the land he kept up his appearance. |
| s-98
| That's backbone. |
| s-99
| His starched collars and got-up shirt-fronts were achievements of character. |
| s-100
| He had been out nearly three years; and, later on, I could not help asking him how he managed to sport such linen. |
| s-101
| He had just the faintest blush, and said modestly, I've been teaching one of the native women about the station. |