Chapter 35

           ‘Butnextmorning,atthefirstbendoftherivershuttingoffthehousesofPatusan,allthisdroppedoutofmysightbodily,withitscolour,itsdesign,anditsmeaning,likeapicturecreatedbyfancyonacanvas,uponwhich,afterlongcontemplation,youturnyourbackforthelasttime.Itremainsinthememorymotionless,unfaded,withitslifearrested,inanunchanginglight.Therearetheambitions,thefears,thehate,thehopes,andtheyremaininmymindjustasIhadseenthem—intenseandasifforeversuspendedintheirexpression.Ihadturnedawayfromthepictureandwasgoingbacktotheworldwhereeventsmove,menchange,lightflickers,lifeflowsinaclearstream,nomatterwhetherovermudoroverstones.Iwasn’tgoingtodiveintoit;Iwouldhaveenoughtodotokeepmyheadabovethesurface.ButastowhatIwasleavingbehind,Icannotimagineanyalteration.TheimmenseandmagnanimousDoraminandhislittlemotherlywitchofawife,gazingtogetheruponthelandandnursingsecretlytheirdreamsofparentalambition;TunkuAllang,wizenedandgreatlyperplexed;DainWaris,intelligentandbrave,withhisfaithinJim,withhisfirmglanceandhisironicfriendliness;thegirl,absorbedinherfrightened,suspiciousadoration;Tumb’Itam,surlyandfaithful;Cornelius,leaninghisforeheadagainstthefenceunderthemoonlight—Iamcertainofthem.Theyexistasifunderunenchanter’swand.Butthefigureroundwhichallthesearegrouped—thatonelives,andIamnotcertainofhim.

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