The Rescue: A Romance of the ShallowsThe Rescue was originally published in 1920; it concludes what is sometimes referred to as The Lingard Trilogy, a group of novels based on Conrad's experience as mate on the steamer, Vidar. Although it was the last of the three novels to be published, after Almayer's Folly (1895) and An Outcast of the Islands (1896), the events related in the novel precede those. The Rescue is a tersely written adventure novel with all the power and scope one would expect from Joseph Conrad. |
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Page viii
... leaving it out there all alone , waiting for its fate- that would never come ! Sentiment , pure sentiment as you see , prompted me in the last instance to face the pains and hazards of that return . As I moved slowly towards the ...
... leaving it out there all alone , waiting for its fate- that would never come ! Sentiment , pure sentiment as you see , prompted me in the last instance to face the pains and hazards of that return . As I moved slowly towards the ...
Page 12
... leave after a thumping row with the master - he generally ap- proved , although he recognized with regret that this man , like most others , had some absurd fads ; he de- fined them as " bottom - upwards notions . " He was a man - as ...
... leave after a thumping row with the master - he generally ap- proved , although he recognized with regret that this man , like most others , had some absurd fads ; he de- fined them as " bottom - upwards notions . " He was a man - as ...
Page 13
... leave , he detached himself from the rail and , walking forward , stood by the break of the poop , looking along the port side of the main deck . Lingard on his own side stopped in his walk and also gazed absentmindedly before him . In ...
... leave , he detached himself from the rail and , walking forward , stood by the break of the poop , looking along the port side of the main deck . Lingard on his own side stopped in his walk and also gazed absentmindedly before him . In ...
Page 18
... leaving behind him a smell of to- bacco smoke . An irregularly glowing spark seemed to run by itself in the darkness before the rounded form of his head . Above the masts of the brig the dome of the clear heaven was full of lights that ...
... leaving behind him a smell of to- bacco smoke . An irregularly glowing spark seemed to run by itself in the darkness before the rounded form of his head . Above the masts of the brig the dome of the clear heaven was full of lights that ...
Page 25
... leaving no trace on the unconquerable calm . " Now this is very curious " began Shaw . Lingard made a gesture to command silence . He seemed to listen yet , as if the wash of the ripple could have had an echo which he expected to hear ...
... leaving no trace on the unconquerable calm . " Now this is very curious " began Shaw . Lingard made a gesture to command silence . He seemed to listen yet , as if the wash of the ripple could have had an echo which he expected to hear ...
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Common terms and phrases
amongst answered asked Lingard began Belarab believe boat breath brig brig's cabin Calashes calm canoe Captain Lingard Carter coast cried d'Alcacer d'Alcacer's Daman dark deck Don Martin earth Emma eyes face faint feel feet felt fight fire fire of Heaven glance hand Hassim and Immada head hear heard heart Illanuns Jaffir Jörgenson King Tom lagoon leaning light lips listened looked Malay mind moved murmured never night once perhaps poop praus rail Rajah Hassim round sail sandbank sarong schooner seemed seen serang shadow Shallows Shaw ship Shore of Refuge shoulder side silence slowly smile sound speak stared stockade stood straight strange suddenly taffrail talk tell Tengga thing thought told tone Travers Tuan turned voice waited Wajo walked Wasub watch whispered woman wonder words yacht
Popular passages
Page 5 - On the unruffled surface of the straits the brig floated tranquil and upright as if bolted solidly, keel to keel, with its own image reflected in the unframed and immense mirror of the sea. To the south and east the double islands watched silently the double ship that seemed fixed amongst them forever, a hopeless captive of the calm, a helpless prisoner of the shallow sea.
Page 323 - I didn't look at you more than at anybody else. It took me all my time to keep my temper down lest it should burn you all up. I didn't want to be rude to you people, but I found it wasn't very easy because threats were the only argument I had. Was I very offensive, Mrs. Travers? " She had listened tense and very attentive, almost stern. And it was without the slightest change of expression that she said : "I think that you bore yourself appropriately to the state of life to which it has pleased God...
Page 5 - ... continuous surface to wanderings facile and endless. There was no wind, and a small brig that had lain all the afternoon a few miles to the northward and westward of Carimata had hardly altered its position half a mile during all these hours. The calm was absolute, a dead, flat calm, the stillness of a dead sea and of a dead atmosphere. As far as the eye could reach there was nothing but an impressive immobility. Nothing moved on earth, on the waters, and above them in the unbroken lustre of...
Page 241 - There was not a star in the sky and no gleam on the water; there was no horizon, no outline, no shape for the eye to rest upon, nothing for the hand to grasp. An obscurity that seemed without limit in space and time had submerged the universe like a destroying flood.
Page 87 - His hair was blown about by the wind, his mind was full of care and the indistinct shapes of many new thoughts, and under his feet, the obedient brig dashed headlong from wave to wave. Her owner and commander did not know where he was going. That adventurer had only a confused notion of being on the threshold of a big adventure. There was something to be done, and he felt he would have to do it. It was expected of him. The seas expected it; the land expected it.
Page 432 - ... words, this unbelief in the importance of things and men? He tried to regain possession of himself, his old self which had things to do, words to speak as well as to hear. But it was too difficult. He was seduced away by the tense feeling of existence far superior to the mere consciousness of life, and which in its immensity of contradictions, delight, dread, exultation and despair could not be faced and yet was not to be evaded. There was no peace in it. But who wanted peace? Surrender was better,...
Page 329 - Conflict of some sort was the very essence of his life. But this was something he had never known before. This was a conflict within himself. He had to face unsuspected powers, foes that he could not go out to meet at the gate. They were within, as though he had been betrayed by somebody, by some secret enemy. He was ready to look round for that subtle traitor. A sort of blankness fell on his mind and he suddenly thought: "Why! It's myself.
Page 297 - ... deliberate words sink into him. The force of that unarmed big man seemed overwhelming. He bowed his head slowly. "Allah is our refuge," he murmured, accepting the inevitable. He delighted Mrs. Travers not as a living being but like a clever sketch in colours, a vivid rendering of an artist's vision of some soul, delicate and fierce. His bright half-smile was extraordinary, sharp like clear steel, painfully penetrating. Glancing right and left Mrs. Travers saw the whole courtyard smitten by the...
Page 229 - Somebody above answered in a leisurely tone: "A steady little draught from the northward." Then after a pause added in a mutter: "Pitch dark." "Aye, dark enough," murmured Lingard. He must do something. Now. At once. The world was waiting. The world full of hopes and fear. What should he do? Instead of answering that question he traced the ungleaming coils of her twisted hair and became fascinated by a stray lock at her neck. What should he do? No one to leave his brig to. The voice that had answered...
Page 10 - ... live in every motion, in every roll, in every sway of her tapering masts, of those masts whose painted trucks move forever, to a seaman's eye, against the clouds or against the stars. To him she was always precious — like old love; always desirable — like a strange woman; always tender — like a mother; always faithful • — like the favourite daughter of a man's heart.