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〃Yesindeedand what difference would it maketravel to Kiev
or back to her husband。 For she would have to godeath or no
death。 And mind； Mr。 B。； I will be here on the day； not that I
doubt your promise； but because I must。 I have got to。 Duty。
All the same my trade is not fit for a dog since some of you
Poles will persist in rebelling； and all of you have got to
suffer for it。〃
This is the reason why he was there in an open three…horse trap
pulled up between the house and the great gates。 I regret not
being able to give up his name to the scorn of all believers in
the rights of conquest； as a reprehensibly sensitive guardian of
Imperial greatness。 On the other hand； I am in a position to
state the name of the Governor…General who signed the order with
the marginal note 〃to be carried out to the letter〃 in his own
handwriting。 The gentleman's name was Bezak。 A high dignitary；
an energetic official； the idol for a time of the Russian
Patriotic Press。
Each generation has its memories。
Chapter IV。
It must not be supposed that in setting forth the memories of
this half…hour between the moment my uncle left my room till we
met again at dinner； I am losing sight of 〃Almayer's Folly。〃
Having confessed that my first novel was begun in idlenessa
holiday taskI think I have also given the impression that it
was a much…delayed book。 It was never dismissed from my mind；
even when the hope of ever finishing it was very faint。 Many
things came in its way： daily duties； new impressions； old
memories。 It was not the outcome of a needthe famous need of
self…expression which artists find in their search for motives。
The necessity which impelled me was a hidden； obscure necessity；
a completely masked and unaccountable phenomenon。 Or perhaps
some idle and frivolous magician （there must be magicians in
London） had cast a spell over me through his parlour window as I
explored the maze of streets east and west in solitary leisurely
walks without chart and compass。 Till I began to write that
novel I had written nothing but letters and not very many these。
I never made a note of a fact； of an impression or of an anecdote
in my life。 The conception of a planned book was entirely
outside my mental range when I sat down to write； the ambition of
being an author had never turned up amongst these gracious
imaginary existences one creates fondly for oneself at times in
the stillness and immobility of a day…dream： yet it stands clear
as the sun at noonday that from the moment I had done blackening
over the first manuscript page of 〃Almayer's Folly〃 （it contained
about two hundred words and this proportion of words to a page
has remained with me through the fifteen years of my writing
life）； from the moment I had； in the simplicity of my heart and
the amazing ignorance of my mind； written that page the die was
cast。 Never had Rubicon been more blindly forded； without
invocation to the gods； without fear of men。
That morning I got up from my breakfast； pushing the chair back；
and rang the bell violently； or perhaps I should say resolutely；
or perhaps I should say eagerly； I do not know。 But manifestly
it must have been a special ring of the bell； a common sound made
impressive； like the ringing of a bell for the raising of the
curtain upon a new scene。 It was an unusual thing for me to do。
Generally； I dawdled over my breakfast and I solemn took the
trouble to ring the bell for the table to be cleared away； but on
that morning for some reason hidden in the general mysteriousness
of the event I did not dawdle。 And yet I was not in a hurry。 I
pulled the cord casually and while the faint tinkling somewhere
down in the basement went on； I charged my pipe in the usual way
and I looked for the matchbox with glances distraught indeed but
exhibiting； I am ready to swear； no signs of a fine frenzy。 I
was composed enough to perceive after some considerable time the
matchbox lying there on the mantelpiece right under my nose。 And
all this was beautifully and safely usual。 Before I had thrown
down the match my landlady's daughter appeared with her calm；
pale face and an inquisitive look； in the doorway。 Of late it
was the landlady's daughter who answered my bell。 I mention this
little fact with pride； because it proves that during the thirty
or forty days of my tenancy I had produced a favourable
impression。 For a fortnight past I had been spared the
unattractive sight of the domestic slave。 The girls in that
Bessborough Gardens house were often changed； but whether short
or long； fair or dark； they were always untidy and particularly
bedraggled as if in a sordid version of the fairy tale the ashbin
cat had been changed into a maid。 I was infinitely sensible of
the privilege of being waited on by my landlady's daughter。 She
was neat if anaemic。
〃Will you please clear away all this at once？〃 I addressed her in
convulsive accents； being at the same time engaged in getting my
pipe to draw。 This； I admit； was an unusual request。 Generally
on getting up from breakfast I would sit down in the window with
a book and let them clear the table when they liked； but if you
think that on that morning I was in the least impatient； you are
mistaken。 I remember that I was perfectly calm。 As a matter of
fact I was not at all certain that I wanted to write； or that I
meant to write； or that I had anything to write about。 No； I was
not impatient。 I lounged between the mantelpiece and the window；
not even consciously waiting for the table to be cleared。 It was
ten to one that before my landlady's daughter was done I would
pick up a book and sit down with it all the morning in a spirit
of enjoyable indolence。 I affirm it with assurance； and I don't
even know now what were the books then lying about the room。
Whatever they were they were not the works of great masters；
where the secret of clear thought and exact expression can be
found。 Since the age of five I have been a great reader； as is
not perhaps wonderful in a child who was never aware of learning
to read。 At ten years of age I had read much of Victor Hugo and
other romantics。 I had read in Polish and in French； history；
voyages； novels； I knew 〃Gil Blas〃 and 〃Don Quixote〃 in abridged
editions； I had read in early boyhood Polish poets and some
French poets； but I cannot say what I read on the evening before
I began to write myself。 I believe it was a novel and it is
quite possible that it was one of Anthony Trollope's novels。 It
is very likely。 My acquaintance with him was then very recent。
He is one of the English novelists whose works I read for the
first time in English。 With men of European reputation； with
Dickens and Walter Scott and Thackeray； it was otherwise。 My
first introduction to English imaginative literature was
〃Nicholas Nickleby。〃 It is extraordinary how well Mrs。 Nickleby
could chatter disconnectedly in Polish and the sinister Ralph
rage in that language。 As to the Crummles family and the family
of the learned Squeers it seemed as natural to them as their
native speech。 It was； I have no doubt； an excellent
translation。 This must have been in the year '70。 But I really
believe that I am wrong。 That book was not my first introduction
to English literature。 My first acquaintance was （or were） the
〃Two Gentlemen of Verona；〃 and that in the very MS。 of my
father's translation。 It was during our exile in Russia； and it
must have been less than a year after my mother's death； because
I remember myself in the black blouse with a white border of my
heavy mourning。 We were living together； quite alone； in a small
house on the outskirts of the town of T。 That afternoon；
instead of going out to play in the large yard which we shared
with our landlord； I had lingered in the room in which my father
generally wrote。 What emboldened me to clamber into his chair I
am sure I don't know； but a couple of hours afterwards he
discovered me kneeling in it with my elbows on the table and my
head held in both hands over the MS。 of loose pages。 I was
greatly confused； expecting to get into trouble。 He stood in the
doorway looking at me with some surprise； but the only thing he
said after a moment of silence was：
〃Read the page aloud。〃
Luckily the page lying before me was not overbl