diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:18:13 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:18:13 -0700 |
| commit | 18895250c3c3bb91e4d4848107a86e1b6ad15bac (patch) | |
| tree | 31ed77a1302164408a2478116b56b0ee43253dec /2021-h/2021-h.htm | |
Diffstat (limited to '2021-h/2021-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2021-h/2021-h.htm | 19749 |
1 files changed, 19749 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/2021-h/2021-h.htm b/2021-h/2021-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d5bf78 --- /dev/null +++ b/2021-h/2021-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,19749 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Nostromo, by Joseph Conrad + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + --> +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard, by Joseph Conrad + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard + +Author: Joseph Conrad + +Release Date: January 9, 2006 [EBook #2021] +Last Updated: September 10, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOSTROMO: A TALE OF THE SEABOARD *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + NOSTROMO + </h1> + <h2> + A TALE OF THE SEABOARD + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Joseph Conrad + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + “So foul a sky clears not without a storm.” —SHAKESPEARE + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + TO JOHN GALSWORTHY + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>AUTHOR’S NOTE</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>NOSTROMO</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> <big><b>PART FIRST THE SILVER OF + THE MINE</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER ONE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER TWO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER THREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER FOUR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER FIVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER SIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER SEVEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER EIGHT </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> <big><b>PART SECOND THE ISABELS</b></big> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER ONE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER TWO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER THREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER FOUR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER FIVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER SIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER SEVEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER EIGHT </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART3"> <big><b>PART THIRD THE LIGHTHOUSE</b></big> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER ONE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER TWO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER THREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER FOUR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER FIVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER SIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER SEVEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER EIGHT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER NINE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER TEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER ELEVEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER TWELVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER THIRTEEN </a> + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + AUTHOR’S NOTE + </h2> + <p> + “<i>Nostromo</i>” is the most anxiously meditated of the longer novels + which belong to the period following upon the publication of the “Typhoon” + volume of short stories. + </p> + <p> + I don’t mean to say that I became then conscious of any impending change + in my mentality and in my attitude towards the tasks of my writing life. + And perhaps there was never any change, except in that mysterious, + extraneous thing which has nothing to do with the theories of art; a + subtle change in the nature of the inspiration; a phenomenon for which I + can not in any way be held responsible. What, however, did cause me some + concern was that after finishing the last story of the “Typhoon” volume it + seemed somehow that there was nothing more in the world to write about. + </p> + <p> + This so strangely negative but disturbing mood lasted some little time; + and then, as with many of my longer stories, the first hint for “Nostromo” + came to me in the shape of a vagrant anecdote completely destitute of + valuable details. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact in 1875 or ‘6, when very young, in the West Indies or + rather in the Gulf of Mexico, for my contacts with land were short, few, + and fleeting, I heard the story of some man who was supposed to have + stolen single-handed a whole lighter-full of silver, somewhere on the + Tierra Firme seaboard during the troubles of a revolution. + </p> + <p> + On the face of it this was something of a feat. But I heard no details, + and having no particular interest in crime qua crime I was not likely to + keep that one in my mind. And I forgot it till twenty-six or seven years + afterwards I came upon the very thing in a shabby volume picked up outside + a second-hand book-shop. It was the life story of an American seaman + written by himself with the assistance of a journalist. In the course of + his wanderings that American sailor worked for some months on board a + schooner, the master and owner of which was the thief of whom I had heard + in my very young days. I have no doubt of that because there could hardly + have been two exploits of that peculiar kind in the same part of the world + and both connected with a South American revolution. + </p> + <p> + The fellow had actually managed to steal a lighter with silver, and this, + it seems, only because he was implicitly trusted by his employers, who + must have been singularly poor judges of character. In the sailor’s story + he is represented as an unmitigated rascal, a small cheat, stupidly + ferocious, morose, of mean appearance, and altogether unworthy of the + greatness this opportunity had thrust upon him. What was interesting was + that he would boast of it openly. + </p> + <p> + He used to say: “People think I make a lot of money in this schooner of + mine. But that is nothing. I don’t care for that. Now and then I go away + quietly and lift a bar of silver. I must get rich slowly—you + understand.” + </p> + <p> + There was also another curious point about the man. Once in the course of + some quarrel the sailor threatened him: “What’s to prevent me reporting + ashore what you have told me about that silver?” + </p> + <p> + The cynical ruffian was not alarmed in the least. He actually laughed. + “You fool, if you dare talk like that on shore about me you will get a + knife stuck in your back. Every man, woman, and child in that port is my + friend. And who’s to prove the lighter wasn’t sunk? I didn’t show you + where the silver is hidden. Did I? So you know nothing. And suppose I + lied? Eh?” + </p> + <p> + Ultimately the sailor, disgusted with the sordid meanness of that + impenitent thief, deserted from the schooner. The whole episode takes + about three pages of his autobiography. Nothing to speak of; but as I + looked them over, the curious confirmation of the few casual words heard + in my early youth evoked the memories of that distant time when everything + was so fresh, so surprising, so venturesome, so interesting; bits of + strange coasts under the stars, shadows of hills in the sunshine, men’s + passions in the dusk, gossip half-forgotten, faces grown dim. . . . + Perhaps, perhaps, there still was in the world something to write about. + Yet I did not see anything at first in the mere story. A rascal steals a + large parcel of a valuable commodity—so people say. It’s either true + or untrue; and in any case it has no value in itself. To invent a + circumstantial account of the robbery did not appeal to me, because my + talents not running that way I did not think that the game was worth the + candle. It was only when it dawned upon me that the purloiner of the + treasure need not necessarily be a confirmed rogue, that he could be even + a man of character, an actor and possibly a victim in the changing scenes + of a revolution, it was only then that I had the first vision of a + twilight country which was to become the province of Sulaco, with its high + shadowy Sierra and its misty Campo for mute witnesses of events flowing + from the passions of men short-sighted in good and evil. + </p> + <p> + Such are in very truth the obscure origins of “Nostromo”—the book. + From that moment, I suppose, it had to be. Yet even then I hesitated, as + if warned by the instinct of self-preservation from venturing on a distant + and toilsome journey into a land full of intrigues and revolutions. But it + had to be done. + </p> + <p> + It took the best part of the years 1903-4 to do; with many intervals of + renewed hesitation, lest I should lose myself in the ever-enlarging vistas + opening before me as I progressed deeper in my knowledge of the country. + Often, also, when I had thought myself to a standstill over the tangled-up + affairs of the Republic, I would, figuratively speaking, pack my bag, rush + away from Sulaco for a change of air and write a few pages of the “Mirror + of the Sea.” But generally, as I’ve said before, my sojourn on the + Continent of Latin America, famed for its hospitality, lasted for about + two years. On my return I found (speaking somewhat in the style of Captain + Gulliver) my family all well, my wife heartily glad to learn that the fuss + was all over, and our small boy considerably grown during my absence. + </p> + <p> + My principal authority for the history of Costaguana is, of course, my + venerated friend, the late Don Jose Avellanos, Minister to the Courts of + England and Spain, etc., etc., in his impartial and eloquent “History of + Fifty Years of Misrule.” That work was never published—the reader + will discover why—and I am in fact the only person in the world + possessed of its contents. I have mastered them in not a few hours of + earnest meditation, and I hope that my accuracy will be trusted. In + justice to myself, and to allay the fears of prospective readers, I beg to + point out that the few historical allusions are never dragged in for the + sake of parading my unique erudition, but that each of them is closely + related to actuality; either throwing a light on the nature of current + events or affecting directly the fortunes of the people of whom I speak. + </p> + <p> + As to their own histories I have tried to set them down, Aristocracy and + People, men and women, Latin and Anglo-Saxon, bandit and politician, with + as cool a hand as was possible in the heat and clash of my own conflicting + emotions. And after all this is also the story of their conflicts. It is + for the reader to say how far they are deserving of interest in their + actions and in the secret purposes of their hearts revealed in the bitter + necessities of the time. I confess that, for me, that time is the time of + firm friendships and unforgotten hospitalities. And in my gratitude I must + mention here Mrs. Gould, “the first lady of Sulaco,” whom we may safely + leave to the secret devotion of Dr. Monygham, and Charles Gould, the + Idealist-creator of Material Interests whom we must leave to his Mine—from + which there is no escape in this world. + </p> + <p> + About Nostromo, the second of the two racially and socially contrasted + men, both captured by the silver of the San Tome Mine, I feel bound to say + something more. + </p> + <p> + I did not hesitate to make that central figure an Italian. First of all + the thing is perfectly credible: Italians were swarming into the + Occidental Province at the time, as anybody who will read further can see; + and secondly, there was no one who could stand so well by the side of + Giorgio Viola the Garibaldino, the Idealist of the old, humanitarian + revolutions. For myself I needed there a Man of the People as free as + possible from his class-conventions and all settled modes of thinking. + This is not a side snarl at conventions. My reasons were not moral but + artistic. Had he been an Anglo-Saxon he would have tried to get into local + politics. But Nostromo does not aspire to be a leader in a personal game. + He does not want to raise himself above the mass. He is content to feel + himself a power—within the People. + </p> + <p> + But mainly Nostromo is what he is because I received the inspiration for + him in my early days from a Mediterranean sailor. Those who have read + certain pages of mine will see at once what I mean when I say that + Dominic, the padrone of the Tremolino, might under given circumstances + have been a Nostromo. At any rate Dominic would have understood the + younger man perfectly—if scornfully. He and I were engaged together + in a rather absurd adventure, but the absurdity does not matter. It is a + real satisfaction to think that in my very young days there must, after + all, have been something in me worthy to command that man’s half-bitter + fidelity, his half-ironic devotion. Many of Nostromo’s speeches I have + heard first in Dominic’s voice. His hand on the tiller and his fearless + eyes roaming the horizon from within the monkish hood shadowing his face, + he would utter the usual exordium of his remorseless wisdom: “<i>Vous + autres gentilhommes!</i>” in a caustic tone that hangs on my ear yet. Like + Nostromo! “You <i>hombres finos!</i>” Very much like Nostromo. But Dominic + the Corsican nursed a certain pride of ancestry from which my Nostromo is + free; for Nostromo’s lineage had to be more ancient still. He is a man + with the weight of countless generations behind him and no parentage to + boast of. . . . Like the People. + </p> + <p> + In his firm grip on the earth he inherits, in his improvidence and + generosity, in his lavishness with his gifts, in his manly vanity, in the + obscure sense of his greatness and in his faithful devotion with something + despairing as well as desperate in its impulses, he is a Man of the + People, their very own unenvious force, disdaining to lead but ruling from + within. Years afterwards, grown older as the famous Captain Fidanza, with + a stake in the country, going about his many affairs followed by + respectful glances in the modernized streets of Sulaco, calling on the + widow of the cargador, attending the Lodge, listening in unmoved silence + to anarchist speeches at the meeting, the enigmatical patron of the new + revolutionary agitation, the trusted, the wealthy comrade Fidanza with the + knowledge of his moral ruin locked up in his breast, he remains + essentially a Man of the People. In his mingled love and scorn of life and + in the bewildered conviction of having been betrayed, of dying betrayed he + hardly knows by what or by whom, he is still of the People, their + undoubted Great Man—with a private history of his own. + </p> + <p> + One more figure of those stirring times I would like to mention: and that + is Antonia Avellanos—the “beautiful Antonia.” Whether she is a + possible variation of Latin-American girlhood I wouldn’t dare to affirm. + But, for me, she is. Always a little in the background by the side of her + father (my venerated friend) I hope she has yet relief enough to make + intelligible what I am going to say. Of all the people who had seen with + me the birth of the Occidental Republic, she is the only one who has kept + in my memory the aspect of continued life. Antonia the Aristocrat and + Nostromo the Man of the People are the artisans of the New Era, the true + creators of the New State; he by his legendary and daring feat, she, like + a woman, simply by the force of what she is: the only being capable of + inspiring a sincere passion in the heart of a trifler. + </p> + <p> + If anything could induce me to revisit Sulaco (I should hate to see all + these changes) it would be Antonia. And the true reason for that—why + not be frank about it?—the true reason is that I have modelled her + on my first love. How we, a band of tallish schoolboys, the chums of her + two brothers, how we used to look up to that girl just out of the + schoolroom herself, as the standard-bearer of a faith to which we all were + born but which she alone knew how to hold aloft with an unflinching hope! + She had perhaps more glow and less serenity in her soul than Antonia, but + she was an uncompromising Puritan of patriotism with no taint of the + slightest worldliness in her thoughts. I was not the only one in love with + her; but it was I who had to hear oftenest her scathing criticism of my + levities—very much like poor Decoud—or stand the brunt of her + austere, unanswerable invective. She did not quite understand—but + never mind. That afternoon when I came in, a shrinking yet defiant sinner, + to say the final good-bye I received a hand-squeeze that made my heart + leap and saw a tear that took my breath away. She was softened at the last + as though she had suddenly perceived (we were such children still!) that I + was really going away for good, going very far away—even as far as + Sulaco, lying unknown, hidden from our eyes in the darkness of the Placid + Gulf. + </p> + <p> + That’s why I long sometimes for another glimpse of the “beautiful Antonia” + (or can it be the Other?) moving in the dimness of the great cathedral, + saying a short prayer at the tomb of the first and last + Cardinal-Archbishop of Sulaco, standing absorbed in filial devotion before + the monument of Don Jose Avellanos, and, with a lingering, tender, + faithful glance at the medallion-memorial to Martin Decoud, going out + serenely into the sunshine of the Plaza with her upright carriage and her + white head; a relic of the past disregarded by men awaiting impatiently + the Dawns of other New Eras, the coming of more Revolutions. + </p> + <p> + But this is the idlest of dreams; for I did understand perfectly well at + the time that the moment the breath left the body of the Magnificent + Capataz, the Man of the People, freed at last from the toils of love and + wealth, there was nothing more for me to do in Sulaco. + </p> + <p> + J. C. + </p> + <p> + October, 1917. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + NOSTROMO + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART FIRST THE SILVER OF THE MINE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER ONE + </h2> + <p> + In the time of Spanish rule, and for many years afterwards, the town of + Sulaco—the luxuriant beauty of the orange gardens bears witness to + its antiquity—had never been commercially anything more important + than a coasting port with a fairly large local trade in ox-hides and + indigo. The clumsy deep-sea galleons of the conquerors that, needing a + brisk gale to move at all, would lie becalmed, where your modern ship + built on clipper lines forges ahead by the mere flapping of her sails, had + been barred out of Sulaco by the prevailing calms of its vast gulf. Some + harbours of the earth are made difficult of access by the treachery of + sunken rocks and the tempests of their shores. Sulaco had found an + inviolable sanctuary from the temptations of a trading world in the solemn + hush of the deep Golfo Placido as if within an enormous semi-circular and + unroofed temple open to the ocean, with its walls of lofty mountains hung + with the mourning draperies of cloud. + </p> + <p> + On one side of this broad curve in the straight seaboard of the Republic + of Costaguana, the last spur of the coast range forms an insignificant + cape whose name is Punta Mala. From the middle of the gulf the point of + the land itself is not visible at all; but the shoulder of a steep hill at + the back can be made out faintly like a shadow on the sky. + </p> + <p> + On the other side, what seems to be an isolated patch of blue mist floats + lightly on the glare of the horizon. This is the peninsula of Azuera, a + wild chaos of sharp rocks and stony levels cut about by vertical ravines. + It lies far out to sea like a rough head of stone stretched from a + green-clad coast at the end of a slender neck of sand covered with + thickets of thorny scrub. Utterly waterless, for the rainfall runs off at + once on all sides into the sea, it has not soil enough—it is said—to + grow a single blade of grass, as if it were blighted by a curse. The poor, + associating by an obscure instinct of consolation the ideas of evil and + wealth, will tell you that it is deadly because of its forbidden + treasures. The common folk of the neighbourhood, peons of the estancias, + vaqueros of the seaboard plains, tame Indians coming miles to market with + a bundle of sugar-cane or a basket of maize worth about threepence, are + well aware that heaps of shining gold lie in the gloom of the deep + precipices cleaving the stony levels of Azuera. Tradition has it that many + adventurers of olden time had perished in the search. The story goes also + that within men’s memory two wandering sailors—Americanos, perhaps, + but gringos of some sort for certain—talked over a gambling, + good-for-nothing mozo, and the three stole a donkey to carry for them a + bundle of dry sticks, a water-skin, and provisions enough to last a few + days. Thus accompanied, and with revolvers at their belts, they had + started to chop their way with machetes through the thorny scrub on the + neck of the peninsula. + </p> + <p> + On the second evening an upright spiral of smoke (it could only have been + from their camp-fire) was seen for the first time within memory of man + standing up faintly upon the sky above a razor-backed ridge on the stony + head. The crew of a coasting schooner, lying becalmed three miles off the + shore, stared at it with amazement till dark. A negro fisherman, living in + a lonely hut in a little bay near by, had seen the start and was on the + lookout for some sign. He called to his wife just as the sun was about to + set. They had watched the strange portent with envy, incredulity, and awe. + </p> + <p> + The impious adventurers gave no other sign. The sailors, the Indian, and + the stolen burro were never seen again. As to the mozo, a Sulaco man—his + wife paid for some masses, and the poor four-footed beast, being without + sin, had been probably permitted to die; but the two gringos, spectral and + alive, are believed to be dwelling to this day amongst the rocks, under + the fatal spell of their success. Their souls cannot tear themselves away + from their bodies mounting guard over the discovered treasure. They are + now rich and hungry and thirsty—a strange theory of tenacious gringo + ghosts suffering in their starved and parched flesh of defiant heretics, + where a Christian would have renounced and been released. + </p> + <p> + These, then, are the legendary inhabitants of Azuera guarding its + forbidden wealth; and the shadow on the sky on one side with the round + patch of blue haze blurring the bright skirt of the horizon on the other, + mark the two outermost points of the bend which bears the name of Golfo + Placido, because never a strong wind had been known to blow upon its + waters. + </p> + <p> + On crossing the imaginary line drawn from Punta Mala to Azuera the ships + from Europe bound to Sulaco lose at once the strong breezes of the ocean. + They become the prey of capricious airs that play with them for thirty + hours at a stretch sometimes. Before them the head of the calm gulf is + filled on most days of the year by a great body of motionless and opaque + clouds. On the rare clear mornings another shadow is cast upon the sweep + of the gulf. The dawn breaks high behind the towering and serrated wall of + the Cordillera, a clear-cut vision of dark peaks rearing their steep + slopes on a lofty pedestal of forest rising from the very edge of the + shore. Amongst them the white head of Higuerota rises majestically upon + the blue. Bare clusters of enormous rocks sprinkle with tiny black dots + the smooth dome of snow. + </p> + <p> + Then, as the midday sun withdraws from the gulf the shadow of the + mountains, the clouds begin to roll out of the lower valleys. They swathe + in sombre tatters the naked crags of precipices above the wooded slopes, + hide the peaks, smoke in stormy trails across the snows of Higuerota. The + Cordillera is gone from you as if it had dissolved itself into great piles + of grey and black vapours that travel out slowly to seaward and vanish + into thin air all along the front before the blazing heat of the day. The + wasting edge of the cloud-bank always strives for, but seldom wins, the + middle of the gulf. The sun—as the sailors say—is eating it + up. Unless perchance a sombre thunder-head breaks away from the main body + to career all over the gulf till it escapes into the offing beyond Azuera, + where it bursts suddenly into flame and crashes like a sinster pirate-ship + of the air, hove-to above the horizon, engaging the sea. + </p> + <p> + At night the body of clouds advancing higher up the sky smothers the whole + quiet gulf below with an impenetrable darkness, in which the sound of the + falling showers can be heard beginning and ceasing abruptly—now + here, now there. Indeed, these cloudy nights are proverbial with the + seamen along the whole west coast of a great continent. Sky, land, and sea + disappear together out of the world when the Placido—as the saying + is—goes to sleep under its black poncho. The few stars left below + the seaward frown of the vault shine feebly as into the mouth of a black + cavern. In its vastness your ship floats unseen under your feet, her sails + flutter invisible above your head. The eye of God Himself—they add + with grim profanity—could not find out what work a man’s hand is + doing in there; and you would be free to call the devil to your aid with + impunity if even his malice were not defeated by such a blind darkness. + </p> + <p> + The shores on the gulf are steep-to all round; three uninhabited islets + basking in the sunshine just outside the cloud veil, and opposite the + entrance to the harbour of Sulaco, bear the name of “The Isabels.” + </p> + <p> + There is the Great Isabel; the Little Isabel, which is round; and Hermosa, + which is the smallest. + </p> + <p> + That last is no more than a foot high, and about seven paces across, a + mere flat top of a grey rock which smokes like a hot cinder after a + shower, and where no man would care to venture a naked sole before sunset. + On the Little Isabel an old ragged palm, with a thick bulging trunk rough + with spines, a very witch amongst palm trees, rustles a dismal bunch of + dead leaves above the coarse sand. The Great Isabel has a spring of fresh + water issuing from the overgrown side of a ravine. Resembling an emerald + green wedge of land a mile long, and laid flat upon the sea, it bears two + forest trees standing close together, with a wide spread of shade at the + foot of their smooth trunks. A ravine extending the whole length of the + island is full of bushes; and presenting a deep tangled cleft on the high + side spreads itself out on the other into a shallow depression abutting on + a small strip of sandy shore. + </p> + <p> + From that low end of the Great Isabel the eye plunges through an opening + two miles away, as abrupt as if chopped with an axe out of the regular + sweep of the coast, right into the harbour of Sulaco. It is an oblong, + lake-like piece of water. On one side the short wooded spurs and valleys + of the Cordillera come down at right angles to the very strand; on the + other the open view of the great Sulaco plain passes into the opal mystery + of great distances overhung by dry haze. The town of Sulaco itself—tops + of walls, a great cupola, gleams of white miradors in a vast grove of + orange trees—lies between the mountains and the plain, at some + little distance from its harbour and out of the direct line of sight from + the sea. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER TWO + </h2> + <p> + The only sign of commercial activity within the harbour, visible from the + beach of the Great Isabel, is the square blunt end of the wooden jetty + which the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company (the O.S.N. of familiar speech) + had thrown over the shallow part of the bay soon after they had resolved + to make of Sulaco one of their ports of call for the Republic of + Costaguana. The State possesses several harbours on its long seaboard, but + except Cayta, an important place, all are either small and inconvenient + inlets in an iron-bound coast—like Esmeralda, for instance, sixty + miles to the south—or else mere open roadsteads exposed to the winds + and fretted by the surf. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the very atmospheric conditions which had kept away the merchant + fleets of bygone ages induced the O.S.N. Company to violate the sanctuary + of peace sheltering the calm existence of Sulaco. The variable airs + sporting lightly with the vast semicircle of waters within the head of + Azuera could not baffle the steam power of their excellent fleet. Year + after year the black hulls of their ships had gone up and down the coast, + in and out, past Azuera, past the Isabels, past Punta Mala—disregarding + everything but the tyranny of time. Their names, the names of all + mythology, became the household words of a coast that had never been ruled + by the gods of Olympus. The Juno was known only for her comfortable cabins + amidships, the Saturn for the geniality of her captain and the painted and + gilt luxuriousness of her saloon, whereas the Ganymede was fitted out + mainly for cattle transport, and to be avoided by coastwise passengers. + The humblest Indian in the obscurest village on the coast was familiar + with the Cerberus, a little black puffer without charm or living + accommodation to speak of, whose mission was to creep inshore along the + wooded beaches close to mighty ugly rocks, stopping obligingly before + every cluster of huts to collect produce, down to three-pound parcels of + indiarubber bound in a wrapper of dry grass. + </p> + <p> + And as they seldom failed to account for the smallest package, rarely lost + a bullock, and had never drowned a single passenger, the name of the + O.S.N. stood very high for trustworthiness. People declared that under the + Company’s care their lives and property were safer on the water than in + their own houses on shore. + </p> + <p> + The O.S.N.‘s superintendent in Sulaco for the whole Costaguana section of + the service was very proud of his Company’s standing. He resumed it in a + saying which was very often on his lips, “We never make mistakes.” To the + Company’s officers it took the form of a severe injunction, “We must make + no mistakes. I’ll have no mistakes here, no matter what Smith may do at + his end.” + </p> + <p> + Smith, on whom he had never set eyes in his life, was the other + superintendent of the service, quartered some fifteen hundred miles away + from Sulaco. “Don’t talk to me of your Smith.” + </p> + <p> + Then, calming down suddenly, he would dismiss the subject with studied + negligence. + </p> + <p> + “Smith knows no more of this continent than a baby.” + </p> + <p> + “Our excellent Senor Mitchell” for the business and official world of + Sulaco; “Fussy Joe” for the commanders of the Company’s ships, Captain + Joseph Mitchell prided himself on his profound knowledge of men and things + in the country—cosas de Costaguana. Amongst these last he accounted + as most unfavourable to the orderly working of his Company the frequent + changes of government brought about by revolutions of the military type. + </p> + <p> + The political atmosphere of the Republic was generally stormy in these + days. The fugitive patriots of the defeated party had the knack of turning + up again on the coast with half a steamer’s load of small arms and + ammunition. Such resourcefulness Captain Mitchell considered as perfectly + wonderful in view of their utter destitution at the time of flight. He had + observed that “they never seemed to have enough change about them to pay + for their passage ticket out of the country.” And he could speak with + knowledge; for on a memorable occasion he had been called upon to save the + life of a dictator, together with the lives of a few Sulaco officials—the + political chief, the director of the customs, and the head of police—belonging + to an overturned government. Poor Senor Ribiera (such was the dictator’s + name) had come pelting eighty miles over mountain tracks after the lost + battle of Socorro, in the hope of out-distancing the fatal news—which, + of course, he could not manage to do on a lame mule. The animal, moreover, + expired under him at the end of the Alameda, where the military band plays + sometimes in the evenings between the revolutions. “Sir,” Captain Mitchell + would pursue with portentous gravity, “the ill-timed end of that mule + attracted attention to the unfortunate rider. His features were recognized + by several deserters from the Dictatorial army amongst the rascally mob + already engaged in smashing the windows of the Intendencia.” + </p> + <p> + Early on the morning of that day the local authorities of Sulaco had fled + for refuge to the O.S.N. Company’s offices, a strong building near the + shore end of the jetty, leaving the town to the mercies of a revolutionary + rabble; and as the Dictator was execrated by the populace on account of + the severe recruitment law his necessities had compelled him to enforce + during the struggle, he stood a good chance of being torn to pieces. + Providentially, Nostromo—invaluable fellow—with some Italian + workmen, imported to work upon the National Central Railway, was at hand, + and managed to snatch him away—for the time at least. Ultimately, + Captain Mitchell succeeded in taking everybody off in his own gig to one + of the Company’s steamers—it was the Minerva—just then, as + luck would have it, entering the harbour. + </p> + <p> + He had to lower these gentlemen at the end of a rope out of a hole in the + wall at the back, while the mob which, pouring out of the town, had spread + itself all along the shore, howled and foamed at the foot of the building + in front. He had to hurry them then the whole length of the jetty; it had + been a desperate dash, neck or nothing—and again it was Nostromo, a + fellow in a thousand, who, at the head, this time, of the Company’s body + of lightermen, held the jetty against the rushes of the rabble, thus + giving the fugitives time to reach the gig lying ready for them at the + other end with the Company’s flag at the stern. Sticks, stones, shots + flew; knives, too, were thrown. Captain Mitchell exhibited willingly the + long cicatrice of a cut over his left ear and temple, made by a + razor-blade fastened to a stick—a weapon, he explained, very much in + favour with the “worst kind of nigger out here.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell was a thick, elderly man, wearing high, pointed collars + and short side-whiskers, partial to white waistcoats, and really very + communicative under his air of pompous reserve. + </p> + <p> + “These gentlemen,” he would say, staring with great solemnity, “had to run + like rabbits, sir. I ran like a rabbit myself. Certain forms of death are—er—distasteful + to a—a—er—respectable man. They would have pounded me to + death, too. A crazy mob, sir, does not discriminate. Under providence we + owed our preservation to my Capataz de Cargadores, as they called him in + the town, a man who, when I discovered his value, sir, was just the bos’n + of an Italian ship, a big Genoese ship, one of the few European ships that + ever came to Sulaco with a general cargo before the building of the + National Central. He left her on account of some very respectable friends + he made here, his own countrymen, but also, I suppose, to better himself. + Sir, I am a pretty good judge of character. I engaged him to be the + foreman of our lightermen, and caretaker of our jetty. That’s all that he + was. But without him Senor Ribiera would have been a dead man. This + Nostromo, sir, a man absolutely above reproach, became the terror of all + the thieves in the town. We were infested, infested, overrun, sir, here at + that time by ladrones and matreros, thieves and murderers from the whole + province. On this occasion they had been flocking into Sulaco for a week + past. They had scented the end, sir. Fifty per cent. of that murdering mob + were professional bandits from the Campo, sir, but there wasn’t one that + hadn’t heard of Nostromo. As to the town leperos, sir, the sight of his + black whiskers and white teeth was enough for them. They quailed before + him, sir. That’s what the force of character will do for you.” + </p> + <p> + It could very well be said that it was Nostromo alone who saved the lives + of these gentlemen. Captain Mitchell, on his part, never left them till he + had seen them collapse, panting, terrified, and exasperated, but safe, on + the luxuriant velvet sofas in the first-class saloon of the Minerva. To + the very last he had been careful to address the ex-Dictator as “Your + Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I could do no other. The man was down—ghastly, livid, one mass + of scratches.” + </p> + <p> + The Minerva never let go her anchor that call. The superintendent ordered + her out of the harbour at once. No cargo could be landed, of course, and + the passengers for Sulaco naturally refused to go ashore. They could hear + the firing and see plainly the fight going on at the edge of the water. + The repulsed mob devoted its energies to an attack upon the Custom House, + a dreary, unfinished-looking structure with many windows two hundred yards + away from the O.S.N. Offices, and the only other building near the + harbour. Captain Mitchell, after directing the commander of the Minerva to + land “these gentlemen” in the first port of call outside Costaguana, went + back in his gig to see what could be done for the protection of the + Company’s property. That and the property of the railway were preserved by + the European residents; that is, by Captain Mitchell himself and the staff + of engineers building the road, aided by the Italian and Basque workmen + who rallied faithfully round their English chiefs. The Company’s + lightermen, too, natives of the Republic, behaved very well under their + Capataz. An outcast lot of very mixed blood, mainly negroes, everlastingly + at feud with the other customers of low grog shops in the town, they + embraced with delight this opportunity to settle their personal scores + under such favourable auspices. There was not one of them that had not, at + some time or other, looked with terror at Nostromo’s revolver poked very + close at his face, or been otherwise daunted by Nostromo’s resolution. He + was “much of a man,” their Capataz was, they said, too scornful in his + temper ever to utter abuse, a tireless taskmaster, and the more to be + feared because of his aloofness. And behold! there he was that day, at + their head, condescending to make jocular remarks to this man or the + other. + </p> + <p> + Such leadership was inspiriting, and in truth all the harm the mob managed + to achieve was to set fire to one—only one—stack of + railway-sleepers, which, being creosoted, burned well. The main attack on + the railway yards, on the O.S.N. Offices, and especially on the Custom + House, whose strong room, it was well known, contained a large treasure in + silver ingots, failed completely. Even the little hotel kept by old + Giorgio, standing alone halfway between the harbour and the town, escaped + looting and destruction, not by a miracle, but because with the safes in + view they had neglected it at first, and afterwards found no leisure to + stop. Nostromo, with his Cargadores, was pressing them too hard then. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THREE + </h2> + <p> + It might have been said that there he was only protecting his own. From + the first he had been admitted to live in the intimacy of the family of + the hotel-keeper who was a countryman of his. Old Giorgio Viola, a Genoese + with a shaggy white leonine head—often called simply “the + Garibaldino” (as Mohammedans are called after their prophet)—was, to + use Captain Mitchell’s own words, the “respectable married friend” by + whose advice Nostromo had left his ship to try for a run of shore luck in + Costaguana. + </p> + <p> + The old man, full of scorn for the populace, as your austere republican so + often is, had disregarded the preliminary sounds of trouble. He went on + that day as usual pottering about the “casa” in his slippers, muttering + angrily to himself his contempt of the non-political nature of the riot, + and shrugging his shoulders. In the end he was taken unawares by the + out-rush of the rabble. It was too late then to remove his family, and, + indeed, where could he have run to with the portly Signora Teresa and two + little girls on that great plain? So, barricading every opening, the old + man sat down sternly in the middle of the darkened cafe with an old + shot-gun on his knees. His wife sat on another chair by his side, + muttering pious invocations to all the saints of the calendar. + </p> + <p> + The old republican did not believe in saints, or in prayers, or in what he + called “priest’s religion.” Liberty and Garibaldi were his divinities; but + he tolerated “superstition” in women, preserving in these matters a lofty + and silent attitude. + </p> + <p> + His two girls, the eldest fourteen, and the other two years younger, + crouched on the sanded floor, on each side of the Signora Teresa, with + their heads on their mother’s lap, both scared, but each in her own way, + the dark-haired Linda indignant and angry, the fair Giselle, the younger, + bewildered and resigned. The Patrona removed her arms, which embraced her + daughters, for a moment to cross herself and wring her hands hurriedly. + She moaned a little louder. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Gian’ Battista, why art thou not here? Oh! why art thou not here?” + </p> + <p> + She was not then invoking the saint himself, but calling upon Nostromo, + whose patron he was. And Giorgio, motionless on the chair by her side, + would be provoked by these reproachful and distracted appeals. + </p> + <p> + “Peace, woman! Where’s the sense of it? There’s his duty,” he murmured in + the dark; and she would retort, panting— + </p> + <p> + “Eh! I have no patience. Duty! What of the woman who has been like a + mother to him? I bent my knee to him this morning; don’t you go out, Gian’ + Battista—stop in the house, Battistino—look at those two + little innocent children!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Viola was an Italian, too, a native of Spezzia, and though + considerably younger than her husband, already middle-aged. She had a + handsome face, whose complexion had turned yellow because the climate of + Sulaco did not suit her at all. Her voice was a rich contralto. When, with + her arms folded tight under her ample bosom, she scolded the squat, + thick-legged China girls handling linen, plucking fowls, pounding corn in + wooden mortars amongst the mud outbuildings at the back of the house, she + could bring out such an impassioned, vibrating, sepulchral note that the + chained watch-dog bolted into his kennel with a great rattle. Luis, a + cinnamon-coloured mulatto with a sprouting moustache and thick, dark lips, + would stop sweeping the cafe with a broom of palm-leaves to let a gentle + shudder run down his spine. His languishing almond eyes would remain + closed for a long time. + </p> + <p> + This was the staff of the Casa Viola, but all these people had fled early + that morning at the first sounds of the riot, preferring to hide on the + plain rather than trust themselves in the house; a preference for which + they were in no way to blame, since, whether true or not, it was generally + believed in the town that the Garibaldino had some money buried under the + clay floor of the kitchen. The dog, an irritable, shaggy brute, barked + violently and whined plaintively in turns at the back, running in and out + of his kennel as rage or fear prompted him. + </p> + <p> + Bursts of great shouting rose and died away, like wild gusts of wind on + the plain round the barricaded house; the fitful popping of shots grew + louder above the yelling. Sometimes there were intervals of unaccountable + stillness outside, and nothing could have been more gaily peaceful than + the narrow bright lines of sunlight from the cracks in the shutters, ruled + straight across the cafe over the disarranged chairs and tables to the + wall opposite. Old Giorgio had chosen that bare, whitewashed room for a + retreat. It had only one window, and its only door swung out upon the + track of thick dust fenced by aloe hedges between the harbour and the + town, where clumsy carts used to creak along behind slow yokes of oxen + guided by boys on horseback. + </p> + <p> + In a pause of stillness Giorgio cocked his gun. The ominous sound wrung a + low moan from the rigid figure of the woman sitting by his side. A sudden + outbreak of defiant yelling quite near the house sank all at once to a + confused murmur of growls. Somebody ran along; the loud catching of his + breath was heard for an instant passing the door; there were hoarse + mutters and footsteps near the wall; a shoulder rubbed against the + shutter, effacing the bright lines of sunshine pencilled across the whole + breadth of the room. Signora Teresa’s arms thrown about the kneeling forms + of her daughters embraced them closer with a convulsive pressure. + </p> + <p> + The mob, driven away from the Custom House, had broken up into several + bands, retreating across the plain in the direction of the town. The + subdued crash of irregular volleys fired in the distance was answered by + faint yells far away. In the intervals the single shots rang feebly, and + the low, long, white building blinded in every window seemed to be the + centre of a turmoil widening in a great circle about its closed-up + silence. But the cautious movements and whispers of a routed party seeking + a momentary shelter behind the wall made the darkness of the room, striped + by threads of quiet sunlight, alight with evil, stealthy sounds. The + Violas had them in their ears as though invisible ghosts hovering about + their chairs had consulted in mutters as to the advisability of setting + fire to this foreigner’s casa. + </p> + <p> + It was trying to the nerves. Old Viola had risen slowly, gun in hand, + irresolute, for he did not see how he could prevent them. Already voices + could be heard talking at the back. Signora Teresa was beside herself with + terror. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! the traitor! the traitor!” she mumbled, almost inaudibly. “Now we are + going to be burnt; and I bent my knee to him. No! he must run at the heels + of his English.” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to think that Nostromo’s mere presence in the house would have + made it perfectly safe. So far, she, too, was under the spell of that + reputation the Capataz de Cargadores had made for himself by the + waterside, along the railway line, with the English and with the populace + of Sulaco. To his face, and even against her husband, she invariably + affected to laugh it to scorn, sometimes good-naturedly, more often with a + curious bitterness. But then women are unreasonable in their opinions, as + Giorgio used to remark calmly on fitting occasions. On this occasion, with + his gun held at ready before him, he stooped down to his wife’s head, and, + keeping his eyes steadfastly on the barricaded door, he breathed out into + her ear that Nostromo would have been powerless to help. What could two + men shut up in a house do against twenty or more bent upon setting fire to + the roof? Gian’ Battista was thinking of the casa all the time, he was + sure. + </p> + <p> + “He think of the casa! He!” gasped Signora Viola, crazily. She struck her + breast with her open hands. “I know him. He thinks of nobody but himself.” + </p> + <p> + A discharge of firearms near by made her throw her head back and close her + eyes. Old Giorgio set his teeth hard under his white moustache, and his + eyes began to roll fiercely. Several bullets struck the end of the wall + together; pieces of plaster could be heard falling outside; a voice + screamed “Here they come!” and after a moment of uneasy silence there was + a rush of running feet along the front. + </p> + <p> + Then the tension of old Giorgio’s attitude relaxed, and a smile of + contemptuous relief came upon his lips of an old fighter with a leonine + face. These were not a people striving for justice, but thieves. Even to + defend his life against them was a sort of degradation for a man who had + been one of Garibaldi’s immortal thousand in the conquest of Sicily. He + had an immense scorn for this outbreak of scoundrels and leperos, who did + not know the meaning of the word “liberty.” + </p> + <p> + He grounded his old gun, and, turning his head, glanced at the coloured + lithograph of Garibaldi in a black frame on the white wall; a thread of + strong sunshine cut it perpendicularly. His eyes, accustomed to the + luminous twilight, made out the high colouring of the face, the red of the + shirt, the outlines of the square shoulders, the black patch of the + Bersagliere hat with cock’s feathers curling over the crown. An immortal + hero! This was your liberty; it gave you not only life, but immortality as + well! + </p> + <p> + For that one man his fanaticism had suffered no diminution. In the moment + of relief from the apprehension of the greatest danger, perhaps, his + family had been exposed to in all their wanderings, he had turned to the + picture of his old chief, first and only, then laid his hand on his wife’s + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + The children kneeling on the floor had not moved. Signora Teresa opened + her eyes a little, as though he had awakened her from a very deep and + dreamless slumber. Before he had time in his deliberate way to say a + reassuring word she jumped up, with the children clinging to her, one on + each side, gasped for breath, and let out a hoarse shriek. + </p> + <p> + It was simultaneous with the bang of a violent blow struck on the outside + of the shutter. They could hear suddenly the snorting of a horse, the + restive tramping of hoofs on the narrow, hard path in front of the house; + the toe of a boot struck at the shutter again; a spur jingled at every + blow, and an excited voice shouted, “Hola! hola, in there!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER FOUR + </h2> + <p> + All the morning Nostromo had kept his eye from afar on the Casa Viola, + even in the thick of the hottest scrimmage near the Custom House. “If I + see smoke rising over there,” he thought to himself, “they are lost.” + Directly the mob had broken he pressed with a small band of Italian + workmen in that direction, which, indeed, was the shortest line towards + the town. That part of the rabble he was pursuing seemed to think of + making a stand under the house; a volley fired by his followers from + behind an aloe hedge made the rascals fly. In a gap chopped out for the + rails of the harbour branch line Nostromo appeared, mounted on his + silver-grey mare. He shouted, sent after them one shot from his revolver, + and galloped up to the cafe window. He had an idea that old Giorgio would + choose that part of the house for a refuge. + </p> + <p> + His voice had penetrated to them, sounding breathlessly hurried: “Hola! + Vecchio! O, Vecchio! Is it all well with you in there?” + </p> + <p> + “You see—” murmured old Viola to his wife. Signora Teresa was silent + now. Outside Nostromo laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I can hear the padrona is not dead.” + </p> + <p> + “You have done your best to kill me with fear,” cried Signora Teresa. She + wanted to say something more, but her voice failed her. + </p> + <p> + Linda raised her eyes to her face for a moment, but old Giorgio shouted + apologetically— + </p> + <p> + “She is a little upset.” + </p> + <p> + Outside Nostromo shouted back with another laugh— + </p> + <p> + “She cannot upset me.” + </p> + <p> + Signora Teresa found her voice. + </p> + <p> + “It is what I say. You have no heart—and you have no conscience, + Gian’ Battista—” + </p> + <p> + They heard him wheel his horse away from the shutters. The party he led + were babbling excitedly in Italian and Spanish, inciting each other to the + pursuit. He put himself at their head, crying, “Avanti!” + </p> + <p> + “He has not stopped very long with us. There is no praise from strangers + to be got here,” Signora Teresa said tragically. “Avanti! Yes! That is all + he cares for. To be first somewhere—somehow—to be first with + these English. They will be showing him to everybody. ‘This is our + Nostromo!’” She laughed ominously. “What a name! What is that? Nostromo? + He would take a name that is properly no word from them.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime Giorgio, with tranquil movements, had been unfastening the door; + the flood of light fell on Signora Teresa, with her two girls gathered to + her side, a picturesque woman in a pose of maternal exaltation. Behind her + the wall was dazzlingly white, and the crude colours of the Garibaldi + lithograph paled in the sunshine. + </p> + <p> + Old Viola, at the door, moved his arm upwards as if referring all his + quick, fleeting thoughts to the picture of his old chief on the wall. Even + when he was cooking for the “Signori Inglesi”—the engineers (he was + a famous cook, though the kitchen was a dark place)—he was, as it + were, under the eye of the great man who had led him in a glorious + struggle where, under the walls of Gaeta, tyranny would have expired for + ever had it not been for that accursed Piedmontese race of kings and + ministers. When sometimes a frying-pan caught fire during a delicate + operation with some shredded onions, and the old man was seen backing out + of the doorway, swearing and coughing violently in an acrid cloud of + smoke, the name of Cavour—the arch intriguer sold to kings and + tyrants—could be heard involved in imprecations against the China + girls, cooking in general, and the brute of a country where he was reduced + to live for the love of liberty that traitor had strangled. + </p> + <p> + Then Signora Teresa, all in black, issuing from another door, advanced, + portly and anxious, inclining her fine, black-browed head, opening her + arms, and crying in a profound tone— + </p> + <p> + “Giorgio! thou passionate man! Misericordia Divina! In the sun like this! + He will make himself ill.” + </p> + <p> + At her feet the hens made off in all directions, with immense strides; if + there were any engineers from up the line staying in Sulaco, a young + English face or two would appear at the billiard-room occupying one end of + the house; but at the other end, in the cafe, Luis, the mulatto, took good + care not to show himself. The Indian girls, with hair like flowing black + manes, and dressed only in a shift and short petticoat, stared dully from + under the square-cut fringes on their foreheads; the noisy frizzling of + fat had stopped, the fumes floated upwards in sunshine, a strong smell of + burnt onions hung in the drowsy heat, enveloping the house; and the eye + lost itself in a vast flat expanse of grass to the west, as if the plain + between the Sierra overtopping Sulaco and the coast range away there + towards Esmeralda had been as big as half the world. + </p> + <p> + Signora Teresa, after an impressive pause, remonstrated— + </p> + <p> + “Eh, Giorgio! Leave Cavour alone and take care of yourself now we are lost + in this country all alone with the two children, because you cannot live + under a king.” + </p> + <p> + And while she looked at him she would sometimes put her hand hastily to + her side with a short twitch of her fine lips and a knitting of her black, + straight eyebrows like a flicker of angry pain or an angry thought on her + handsome, regular features. + </p> + <p> + It was pain; she suppressed the twinge. It had come to her first a few + years after they had left Italy to emigrate to America and settle at last + in Sulaco after wandering from town to town, trying shopkeeping in a small + way here and there; and once an organized enterprise of fishing—in + Maldonado—for Giorgio, like the great Garibaldi, had been a sailor + in his time. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes she had no patience with pain. For years its gnawing had been + part of the landscape embracing the glitter of the harbour under the + wooded spurs of the range; and the sunshine itself was heavy and dull—heavy + with pain—not like the sunshine of her girlhood, in which + middle-aged Giorgio had wooed her gravely and passionately on the shores + of the gulf of Spezzia. + </p> + <p> + “You go in at once, Giorgio,” she directed. “One would think you do not + wish to have any pity on me—with four Signori Inglesi staying in the + house.” “<i>Va bene, va bene</i>,” Giorgio would mutter. He obeyed. The + Signori Inglesi would require their midday meal presently. He had been one + of the immortal and invincible band of liberators who had made the + mercenaries of tyranny fly like chaff before a hurricane, “<i>un uragano + terribile</i>.” But that was before he was married and had children; and + before tyranny had reared its head again amongst the traitors who had + imprisoned Garibaldi, his hero. + </p> + <p> + There were three doors in the front of the house, and each afternoon the + Garibaldino could be seen at one or another of them with his big bush of + white hair, his arms folded, his legs crossed, leaning back his leonine + head against the side, and looking up the wooded slopes of the foothills + at the snowy dome of Higuerota. The front of his house threw off a black + long rectangle of shade, broadening slowly over the soft ox-cart track. + Through the gaps, chopped out in the oleander hedges, the harbour branch + railway, laid out temporarily on the level of the plain, curved away its + shining parallel ribbons on a belt of scorched and withered grass within + sixty yards of the end of the house. In the evening the empty material + trains of flat cars circled round the dark green grove of Sulaco, and ran, + undulating slightly with white jets of steam, over the plain towards the + Casa Viola, on their way to the railway yards by the harbour. The Italian + drivers saluted him from the foot-plate with raised hand, while the negro + brakesmen sat carelessly on the brakes, looking straight forward, with the + rims of their big hats flapping in the wind. In return Giorgio would give + a slight sideways jerk of the head, without unfolding his arms. + </p> + <p> + On this memorable day of the riot his arms were not folded on his chest. + His hand grasped the barrel of the gun grounded on the threshold; he did + not look up once at the white dome of Higuerota, whose cool purity seemed + to hold itself aloof from a hot earth. His eyes examined the plain + curiously. Tall trails of dust subsided here and there. In a speckless sky + the sun hung clear and blinding. Knots of men ran headlong; others made a + stand; and the irregular rattle of firearms came rippling to his ears in + the fiery, still air. Single figures on foot raced desperately. Horsemen + galloped towards each other, wheeled round together, separated at speed. + Giorgio saw one fall, rider and horse disappearing as if they had galloped + into a chasm, and the movements of the animated scene were like the + passages of a violent game played upon the plain by dwarfs mounted and on + foot, yelling with tiny throats, under the mountain that seemed a colossal + embodiment of silence. Never before had Giorgio seen this bit of plain so + full of active life; his gaze could not take in all its details at once; + he shaded his eyes with his hand, till suddenly the thundering of many + hoofs near by startled him. + </p> + <p> + A troop of horses had broken out of the fenced paddock of the Railway + Company. They came on like a whirlwind, and dashed over the line snorting, + kicking, squealing in a compact, piebald, tossing mob of bay, brown, grey + backs, eyes staring, necks extended, nostrils red, long tails streaming. + As soon as they had leaped upon the road the thick dust flew upwards from + under their hoofs, and within six yards of Giorgio only a brown cloud with + vague forms of necks and cruppers rolled by, making the soil tremble on + its passage. + </p> + <p> + Viola coughed, turning his face away from the dust, and shaking his head + slightly. + </p> + <p> + “There will be some horse-catching to be done before to-night,” he + muttered. + </p> + <p> + In the square of sunlight falling through the door Signora Teresa, + kneeling before the chair, had bowed her head, heavy with a twisted mass + of ebony hair streaked with silver, into the palm of her hands. The black + lace shawl she used to drape about her face had dropped to the ground by + her side. The two girls had got up, hand-in-hand, in short skirts, their + loose hair falling in disorder. The younger had thrown her arm across her + eyes, as if afraid to face the light. Linda, with her hand on the other’s + shoulder, stared fearlessly. Viola looked at his children. The sun brought + out the deep lines on his face, and, energetic in expression, it had the + immobility of a carving. It was impossible to discover what he thought. + Bushy grey eyebrows shaded his dark glance. + </p> + <p> + “Well! And do you not pray like your mother?” + </p> + <p> + Linda pouted, advancing her red lips, which were almost too red; but she + had admirable eyes, brown, with a sparkle of gold in the irises, full of + intelligence and meaning, and so clear that they seemed to throw a glow + upon her thin, colourless face. There were bronze glints in the sombre + clusters of her hair, and the eyelashes, long and coal black, made her + complexion appear still more pale. + </p> + <p> + “Mother is going to offer up a lot of candles in the church. She always + does when Nostromo has been away fighting. I shall have some to carry up + to the Chapel of the Madonna in the Cathedral.” + </p> + <p> + She said all this quickly, with great assurance, in an animated, + penetrating voice. Then, giving her sister’s shoulder a slight shake, she + added— + </p> + <p> + “And she will be made to carry one, too!” + </p> + <p> + “Why made?” inquired Giorgio, gravely. “Does she not want to?” + </p> + <p> + “She is timid,” said Linda, with a little burst of laughter. “People + notice her fair hair as she goes along with us. They call out after her, + ‘Look at the Rubia! Look at the Rubiacita!’ They call out in the streets. + She is timid.” + </p> + <p> + “And you? You are not timid—eh?” the father pronounced, slowly. + </p> + <p> + She tossed back all her dark hair. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody calls out after me.” + </p> + <p> + Old Giorgio contemplated his children thoughtfully. There was two years + difference between them. They had been born to him late, years after the + boy had died. Had he lived he would have been nearly as old as Gian’ + Battista—he whom the English called Nostromo; but as to his + daughters, the severity of his temper, his advancing age, his absorption + in his memories, had prevented his taking much notice of them. He loved + his children, but girls belong more to the mother, and much of his + affection had been expended in the worship and service of liberty. + </p> + <p> + When quite a youth he had deserted from a ship trading to La Plata, to + enlist in the navy of Montevideo, then under the command of Garibaldi. + Afterwards, in the Italian legion of the Republic struggling against the + encroaching tyranny of Rosas, he had taken part, on great plains, on the + banks of immense rivers, in the fiercest fighting perhaps the world had + ever known. He had lived amongst men who had declaimed about liberty, + suffered for liberty, died for liberty, with a desperate exaltation, and + with their eyes turned towards an oppressed Italy. His own enthusiasm had + been fed on scenes of carnage, on the examples of lofty devotion, on the + din of armed struggle, on the inflamed language of proclamations. He had + never parted from the chief of his choice—the fiery apostle of + independence—keeping by his side in America and in Italy till after + the fatal day of Aspromonte, when the treachery of kings, emperors, and + ministers had been revealed to the world in the wounding and imprisonment + of his hero—a catastrophe that had instilled into him a gloomy doubt + of ever being able to understand the ways of Divine justice. + </p> + <p> + He did not deny it, however. It required patience, he would say. Though he + disliked priests, and would not put his foot inside a church for anything, + he believed in God. Were not the proclamations against tyrants addressed + to the peoples in the name of God and liberty? “God for men—religions + for women,” he muttered sometimes. In Sicily, an Englishman who had turned + up in Palermo after its evacuation by the army of the king, had given him + a Bible in Italian—the publication of the British and Foreign Bible + Society, bound in a dark leather cover. In periods of political adversity, + in the pauses of silence when the revolutionists issued no proclamations, + Giorgio earned his living with the first work that came to hand—as + sailor, as dock labourer on the quays of Genoa, once as a hand on a farm + in the hills above Spezzia—and in his spare time he studied the + thick volume. He carried it with him into battles. Now it was his only + reading, and in order not to be deprived of it (the print was small) he + had consented to accept the present of a pair of silver-mounted spectacles + from Senora Emilia Gould, the wife of the Englishman who managed the + silver mine in the mountains three leagues from the town. She was the only + Englishwoman in Sulaco. + </p> + <p> + Giorgio Viola had a great consideration for the English. This feeling, + born on the battlefields of Uruguay, was forty years old at the very + least. Several of them had poured their blood for the cause of freedom in + America, and the first he had ever known he remembered by the name of + Samuel; he commanded a negro company under Garibaldi, during the famous + siege of Montevideo, and died heroically with his negroes at the fording + of the Boyana. He, Giorgio, had reached the rank of ensign-alferez-and + cooked for the general. Later, in Italy, he, with the rank of lieutenant, + rode with the staff and still cooked for the general. He had cooked for + him in Lombardy through the whole campaign; on the march to Rome he had + lassoed his beef in the Campagna after the American manner; he had been + wounded in the defence of the Roman Republic; he was one of the four + fugitives who, with the general, carried out of the woods the inanimate + body of the general’s wife into the farmhouse where she died, exhausted by + the hardships of that terrible retreat. He had survived that disastrous + time to attend his general in Palermo when the Neapolitan shells from the + castle crashed upon the town. He had cooked for him on the field of + Volturno after fighting all day. And everywhere he had seen Englishmen in + the front rank of the army of freedom. He respected their nation because + they loved Garibaldi. Their very countesses and princesses had kissed the + general’s hands in London, it was said. He could well believe it; for the + nation was noble, and the man was a saint. It was enough to look once at + his face to see the divine force of faith in him and his great pity for + all that was poor, suffering, and oppressed in this world. + </p> + <p> + The spirit of self-forgetfulness, the simple devotion to a vast + humanitarian idea which inspired the thought and stress of that + revolutionary time, had left its mark upon Giorgio in a sort of austere + contempt for all personal advantage. This man, whom the lowest class in + Sulaco suspected of having a buried hoard in his kitchen, had all his life + despised money. The leaders of his youth had lived poor, had died poor. It + had been a habit of his mind to disregard to-morrow. It was engendered + partly by an existence of excitement, adventure, and wild warfare. But + mostly it was a matter of principle. It did not resemble the carelessness + of a condottiere, it was a puritanism of conduct, born of stern enthusiasm + like the puritanism of religion. + </p> + <p> + This stern devotion to a cause had cast a gloom upon Giorgio’s old age. It + cast a gloom because the cause seemed lost. Too many kings and emperors + flourished yet in the world which God had meant for the people. He was sad + because of his simplicity. Though always ready to help his countrymen, and + greatly respected by the Italian emigrants wherever he lived (in his exile + he called it), he could not conceal from himself that they cared nothing + for the wrongs of down-trodden nations. They listened to his tales of war + readily, but seemed to ask themselves what he had got out of it after all. + There was nothing that they could see. “We wanted nothing, we suffered for + the love of all humanity!” he cried out furiously sometimes, and the + powerful voice, the blazing eyes, the shaking of the white mane, the + brown, sinewy hand pointing upwards as if to call heaven to witness, + impressed his hearers. After the old man had broken off abruptly with a + jerk of the head and a movement of the arm, meaning clearly, “But what’s + the good of talking to you?” they nudged each other. There was in old + Giorgio an energy of feeling, a personal quality of conviction, something + they called “terribilita”—“an old lion,” they used to say of him. + Some slight incident, a chance word would set him off talking on the beach + to the Italian fishermen of Maldonado, in the little shop he kept + afterwards (in Valparaiso) to his countrymen customers; of an evening, + suddenly, in the cafe at one end of the Casa Viola (the other was reserved + for the English engineers) to the select clientele of engine-drivers and + foremen of the railway shops. + </p> + <p> + With their handsome, bronzed, lean faces, shiny black ringlets, glistening + eyes, broad-chested, bearded, sometimes a tiny gold ring in the lobe of + the ear, the aristocracy of the railway works listened to him, turning + away from their cards or dominoes. Here and there a fair-haired Basque + studied his hand meantime, waiting without protest. No native of + Costaguana intruded there. This was the Italian stronghold. Even the + Sulaco policemen on a night patrol let their horses pace softly by, + bending low in the saddle to glance through the window at the heads in a + fog of smoke; and the drone of old Giorgio’s declamatory narrative seemed + to sink behind them into the plain. Only now and then the assistant of the + chief of police, some broad-faced, brown little gentleman, with a great + deal of Indian in him, would put in an appearance. Leaving his man outside + with the horses he advanced with a confident, sly smile, and without a + word up to the long trestle table. He pointed to one of the bottles on the + shelf; Giorgio, thrusting his pipe into his mouth abruptly, served him in + person. Nothing would be heard but the slight jingle of the spurs. His + glass emptied, he would take a leisurely, scrutinizing look all round the + room, go out, and ride away slowly, circling towards the town. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER FIVE + </h2> + <p> + In this way only was the power of the local authorities vindicated amongst + the great body of strong-limbed foreigners who dug the earth, blasted the + rocks, drove the engines for the “progressive and patriotic undertaking.” + In these very words eighteen months before the Excellentissimo Senor don + Vincente Ribiera, the Dictator of Costaguana, had described the National + Central Railway in his great speech at the turning of the first sod. + </p> + <p> + He had come on purpose to Sulaco, and there was a one-o’clock + dinner-party, a convite offered by the O.S.N. Company on board the Juno + after the function on shore. Captain Mitchell had himself steered the + cargo lighter, all draped with flags, which, in tow of the Juno’s steam + launch, took the Excellentissimo from the jetty to the ship. Everybody of + note in Sulaco had been invited—the one or two foreign merchants, + all the representatives of the old Spanish families then in town, the + great owners of estates on the plain, grave, courteous, simple men, + caballeros of pure descent, with small hands and feet, conservative, + hospitable, and kind. The Occidental Province was their stronghold; their + Blanco party had triumphed now; it was their President-Dictator, a Blanco + of the Blancos, who sat smiling urbanely between the representatives of + two friendly foreign powers. They had come with him from Sta. Marta to + countenance by their presence the enterprise in which the capital of their + countries was engaged. The only lady of that company was Mrs. Gould, the + wife of Don Carlos, the administrator of the San Tome silver mine. The + ladies of Sulaco were not advanced enough to take part in the public life + to that extent. They had come out strongly at the great ball at the + Intendencia the evening before, but Mrs. Gould alone had appeared, a + bright spot in the group of black coats behind the President-Dictator, on + the crimson cloth-covered stage erected under a shady tree on the shore of + the harbour, where the ceremony of turning the first sod had taken place. + She had come off in the cargo lighter, full of notabilities, sitting under + the flutter of gay flags, in the place of honour by the side of Captain + Mitchell, who steered, and her clear dress gave the only truly festive + note to the sombre gathering in the long, gorgeous saloon of the Juno. + </p> + <p> + The head of the chairman of the railway board (from London), handsome and + pale in a silvery mist of white hair and clipped beard, hovered near her + shoulder attentive, smiling, and fatigued. The journey from London to Sta. + Marta in mail boats and the special carriages of the Sta. Marta coast-line + (the only railway so far) had been tolerable—even pleasant—quite + tolerable. But the trip over the mountains to Sulaco was another sort of + experience, in an old diligencia over impassable roads skirting awful + precipices. + </p> + <p> + “We have been upset twice in one day on the brink of very deep ravines,” + he was telling Mrs. Gould in an undertone. “And when we arrived here at + last I don’t know what we should have done without your hospitality. What + an out-of-the-way place Sulaco is!—and for a harbour, too! + Astonishing!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but we are very proud of it. It used to be historically important. + The highest ecclesiastical court for two viceroyalties, sat here in the + olden time,” she instructed him with animation. + </p> + <p> + “I am impressed. I didn’t mean to be disparaging. You seem very + patriotic.” + </p> + <p> + “The place is lovable, if only by its situation. Perhaps you don’t know + what an old resident I am.” + </p> + <p> + “How old, I wonder,” he murmured, looking at her with a slight smile. Mrs. + Gould’s appearance was made youthful by the mobile intelligence of her + face. “We can’t give you your ecclesiastical court back again; but you + shall have more steamers, a railway, a telegraph-cable—a future in + the great world which is worth infinitely more than any amount of + ecclesiastical past. You shall be brought in touch with something greater + than two viceroyalties. But I had no notion that a place on a sea-coast + could remain so isolated from the world. If it had been a thousand miles + inland now—most remarkable! Has anything ever happened here for a + hundred years before to-day?” + </p> + <p> + While he talked in a slow, humorous tone, she kept her little smile. + Agreeing ironically, she assured him that certainly not—nothing ever + happened in Sulaco. Even the revolutions, of which there had been two in + her time, had respected the repose of the place. Their course ran in the + more populous southern parts of the Republic, and the great valley of Sta. + Marta, which was like one great battlefield of the parties, with the + possession of the capital for a prize and an outlet to another ocean. They + were more advanced over there. Here in Sulaco they heard only the echoes + of these great questions, and, of course, their official world changed + each time, coming to them over their rampart of mountains which he himself + had traversed in an old diligencia, with such a risk to life and limb. + </p> + <p> + The chairman of the railway had been enjoying her hospitality for several + days, and he was really grateful for it. It was only since he had left + Sta. Marta that he had utterly lost touch with the feeling of European + life on the background of his exotic surroundings. In the capital he had + been the guest of the Legation, and had been kept busy negotiating with + the members of Don Vincente’s Government—cultured men, men to whom + the conditions of civilized business were not unknown. + </p> + <p> + What concerned him most at the time was the acquisition of land for the + railway. In the Sta. Marta Valley, where there was already one line in + existence, the people were tractable, and it was only a matter of price. A + commission had been nominated to fix the values, and the difficulty + resolved itself into the judicious influencing of the Commissioners. But + in Sulaco—the Occidental Province for whose very development the + railway was intended—there had been trouble. It had been lying for + ages ensconced behind its natural barriers, repelling modern enterprise by + the precipices of its mountain range, by its shallow harbour opening into + the everlasting calms of a gulf full of clouds, by the benighted state of + mind of the owners of its fertile territory—all these aristocratic + old Spanish families, all those Don Ambrosios this and Don Fernandos that, + who seemed actually to dislike and distrust the coming of the railway over + their lands. It had happened that some of the surveying parties scattered + all over the province had been warned off with threats of violence. In + other cases outrageous pretensions as to price had been raised. But the + man of railways prided himself on being equal to every emergency. Since he + was met by the inimical sentiment of blind conservatism in Sulaco he would + meet it by sentiment, too, before taking his stand on his right alone. The + Government was bound to carry out its part of the contract with the board + of the new railway company, even if it had to use force for the purpose. + But he desired nothing less than an armed disturbance in the smooth + working of his plans. They were much too vast and far-reaching, and too + promising to leave a stone unturned; and so he imagined to get the + President-Dictator over there on a tour of ceremonies and speeches, + culminating in a great function at the turning of the first sod by the + harbour shore. After all he was their own creature—that Don + Vincente. He was the embodied triumph of the best elements in the State. + These were facts, and, unless facts meant nothing, Sir John argued to + himself, such a man’s influence must be real, and his personal action + would produce the conciliatory effect he required. He had succeeded in + arranging the trip with the help of a very clever advocate, who was known + in Sta. Marta as the agent of the Gould silver mine, the biggest thing in + Sulaco, and even in the whole Republic. It was indeed a fabulously rich + mine. Its so-called agent, evidently a man of culture and ability, seemed, + without official position, to possess an extraordinary influence in the + highest Government spheres. He was able to assure Sir John that the + President-Dictator would make the journey. He regretted, however, in the + course of the same conversation, that General Montero insisted upon going, + too. + </p> + <p> + General Montero, whom the beginning of the struggle had found an obscure + army captain employed on the wild eastern frontier of the State, had + thrown in his lot with the Ribiera party at a moment when special + circumstances had given that small adhesion a fortuitous importance. The + fortunes of war served him marvellously, and the victory of Rio Seco + (after a day of desperate fighting) put a seal to his success. At the end + he emerged General, Minister of War, and the military head of the Blanco + party, although there was nothing aristocratic in his descent. Indeed, it + was said that he and his brother, orphans, had been brought up by the + munificence of a famous European traveller, in whose service their father + had lost his life. Another story was that their father had been nothing + but a charcoal burner in the woods, and their mother a baptised Indian + woman from the far interior. + </p> + <p> + However that might be, the Costaguana Press was in the habit of styling + Montero’s forest march from his commandancia to join the Blanco forces at + the beginning of the troubles, the “most heroic military exploit of modern + times.” About the same time, too, his brother had turned up from Europe, + where he had gone apparently as secretary to a consul. Having, however, + collected a small band of outlaws, he showed some talent as guerilla chief + and had been rewarded at the pacification by the post of Military + Commandant of the capital. + </p> + <p> + The Minister of War, then, accompanied the Dictator. The board of the + O.S.N. Company, working hand-in-hand with the railway people for the good + of the Republic, had on this important occasion instructed Captain + Mitchell to put the mail-boat Juno at the disposal of the distinguished + party. Don Vincente, journeying south from Sta. Marta, had embarked at + Cayta, the principal port of Costaguana, and came to Sulaco by sea. But + the chairman of the railway company had courageously crossed the mountains + in a ramshackle diligencia, mainly for the purpose of meeting his + engineer-in-chief engaged in the final survey of the road. + </p> + <p> + For all the indifference of a man of affairs to nature, whose hostility + can always be overcome by the resources of finance, he could not help + being impressed by his surroundings during his halt at the surveying camp + established at the highest point his railway was to reach. He spent the + night there, arriving just too late to see the last dying glow of sunlight + upon the snowy flank of Higuerota. Pillared masses of black basalt framed + like an open portal a portion of the white field lying aslant against the + west. In the transparent air of the high altitudes everything seemed very + near, steeped in a clear stillness as in an imponderable liquid; and with + his ear ready to catch the first sound of the expected diligencia the + engineer-in-chief, at the door of a hut of rough stones, had contemplated + the changing hues on the enormous side of the mountain, thinking that in + this sight, as in a piece of inspired music, there could be found together + the utmost delicacy of shaded expression and a stupendous magnificence of + effect. + </p> + <p> + Sir John arrived too late to hear the magnificent and inaudible strain + sung by the sunset amongst the high peaks of the Sierra. It had sung + itself out into the breathless pause of deep dusk before, climbing down + the fore wheel of the diligencia with stiff limbs, he shook hands with the + engineer. + </p> + <p> + They gave him his dinner in a stone hut like a cubical boulder, with no + door or windows in its two openings; a bright fire of sticks (brought on + muleback from the first valley below) burning outside, sent in a wavering + glare; and two candles in tin candlesticks—lighted, it was explained + to him, in his honour—stood on a sort of rough camp table, at which + he sat on the right hand of the chief. He knew how to be amiable; and the + young men of the engineering staff, for whom the surveying of the railway + track had the glamour of the first steps on the path of life, sat there, + too, listening modestly, with their smooth faces tanned by the weather, + and very pleased to witness so much affability in so great a man. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards, late at night, pacing to and fro outside, he had a long talk + with his chief engineer. He knew him well of old. This was not the first + undertaking in which their gifts, as elementally different as fire and + water, had worked in conjunction. From the contact of these two + personalities, who had not the same vision of the world, there was + generated a power for the world’s service—a subtle force that could + set in motion mighty machines, men’s muscles, and awaken also in human + breasts an unbounded devotion to the task. Of the young fellows at the + table, to whom the survey of the track was like the tracing of the path of + life, more than one would be called to meet death before the work was + done. But the work would be done: the force would be almost as strong as a + faith. Not quite, however. In the silence of the sleeping camp upon the + moonlit plateau forming the top of the pass like the floor of a vast arena + surrounded by the basalt walls of precipices, two strolling figures in + thick ulsters stood still, and the voice of the engineer pronounced + distinctly the words— + </p> + <p> + “We can’t move mountains!” + </p> + <p> + Sir John, raising his head to follow the pointing gesture, felt the full + force of the words. The white Higuerota soared out of the shadows of rock + and earth like a frozen bubble under the moon. All was still, till near + by, behind the wall of a corral for the camp animals, built roughly of + loose stones in the form of a circle, a pack mule stamped his forefoot and + blew heavily twice. + </p> + <p> + The engineer-in-chief had used the phrase in answer to the chairman’s + tentative suggestion that the tracing of the line could, perhaps, be + altered in deference to the prejudices of the Sulaco landowners. The chief + engineer believed that the obstinacy of men was the lesser obstacle. + Moreover, to combat that they had the great influence of Charles Gould, + whereas tunnelling under Higuerota would have been a colossal undertaking. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! Gould. What sort of a man is he?” + </p> + <p> + Sir John had heard much of Charles Gould in Sta. Marta, and wanted to know + more. The engineer-in-chief assured him that the administrator of the San + Tome silver mine had an immense influence over all these Spanish Dons. He + had also one of the best houses in Sulaco, and the Gould hospitality was + beyond all praise. + </p> + <p> + “They received me as if they had known me for years,” he said. “The little + lady is kindness personified. I stayed with them for a month. He helped me + to organize the surveying parties. His practical ownership of the San Tome + silver mine gives him a special position. He seems to have the ear of + every provincial authority apparently, and, as I said, he can wind all the + hidalgos of the province round his little finger. If you follow his advice + the difficulties will fall away, because he wants the railway. Of course, + you must be careful in what you say. He’s English, and besides he must be + immensely wealthy. The Holroyd house is in with him in that mine, so you + may imagine—” + </p> + <p> + He interrupted himself as, from before one of the little fires burning + outside the low wall of the corral, arose the figure of a man wrapped in a + poncho up to the neck. The saddle which he had been using for a pillow + made a dark patch on the ground against the red glow of embers. + </p> + <p> + “I shall see Holroyd himself on my way back through the States,” said Sir + John. “I’ve ascertained that he, too, wants the railway.” + </p> + <p> + The man who, perhaps disturbed by the proximity of the voices, had arisen + from the ground, struck a match to light a cigarette. The flame showed a + bronzed, black-whiskered face, a pair of eyes gazing straight; then, + rearranging his wrappings, he sank full length and laid his head again on + the saddle. + </p> + <p> + “That’s our camp-master, whom I must send back to Sulaco now we are going + to carry our survey into the Sta. Marta Valley,” said the engineer. “A + most useful fellow, lent me by Captain Mitchell of the O.S.N. Company. It + was very good of Mitchell. Charles Gould told me I couldn’t do better than + take advantage of the offer. He seems to know how to rule all these + muleteers and peons. We had not the slightest trouble with our people. He + shall escort your diligencia right into Sulaco with some of our railway + peons. The road is bad. To have him at hand may save you an upset or two. + He promised me to take care of your person all the way down as if you were + his father.” + </p> + <p> + This camp-master was the Italian sailor whom all the Europeans in Sulaco, + following Captain Mitchell’s mispronunciation, were in the habit of + calling Nostromo. And indeed, taciturn and ready, he did take excellent + care of his charge at the bad parts of the road, as Sir John himself + acknowledged to Mrs. Gould afterwards. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER SIX + </h2> + <p> + At that time Nostromo had been already long enough in the country to raise + to the highest pitch Captain Mitchell’s opinion of the extraordinary value + of his discovery. Clearly he was one of those invaluable subordinates whom + to possess is a legitimate cause of boasting. Captain Mitchell plumed + himself upon his eye for men—but he was not selfish—and in the + innocence of his pride was already developing that mania for “lending you + my Capataz de Cargadores” which was to bring Nostromo into personal + contact, sooner or later, with every European in Sulaco, as a sort of + universal factotum—a prodigy of efficiency in his own sphere of + life. + </p> + <p> + “The fellow is devoted to me, body and soul!” Captain Mitchell was given + to affirm; and though nobody, perhaps, could have explained why it should + be so, it was impossible on a survey of their relation to throw doubt on + that statement, unless, indeed, one were a bitter, eccentric character + like Dr. Monygham—for instance—whose short, hopeless laugh + expressed somehow an immense mistrust of mankind. Not that Dr. Monygham + was a prodigal either of laughter or of words. He was bitterly taciturn + when at his best. At his worst people feared the open scornfulness of his + tongue. Only Mrs. Gould could keep his unbelief in men’s motives within + due bounds; but even to her (on an occasion not connected with Nostromo, + and in a tone which for him was gentle), even to her, he had said once, + “Really, it is most unreasonable to demand that a man should think of + other people so much better than he is able to think of himself.” + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. Gould had hastened to drop the subject. There were strange + rumours of the English doctor. Years ago, in the time of Guzman Bento, he + had been mixed up, it was whispered, in a conspiracy which was betrayed + and, as people expressed it, drowned in blood. His hair had turned grey, + his hairless, seamed face was of a brick-dust colour; the large check + pattern of his flannel shirt and his old stained Panama hat were an + established defiance to the conventionalities of Sulaco. Had it not been + for the immaculate cleanliness of his apparel he might have been taken for + one of those shiftless Europeans that are a moral eyesore to the + respectability of a foreign colony in almost every exotic part of the + world. The young ladies of Sulaco, adorning with clusters of pretty faces + the balconies along the Street of the Constitution, when they saw him + pass, with his limping gait and bowed head, a short linen jacket drawn on + carelessly over the flannel check shirt, would remark to each other, “Here + is the Senor doctor going to call on Dona Emilia. He has got his little + coat on.” The inference was true. Its deeper meaning was hidden from their + simple intelligence. Moreover, they expended no store of thought on the + doctor. He was old, ugly, learned—and a little “loco”—mad, if + not a bit of a sorcerer, as the common people suspected him of being. The + little white jacket was in reality a concession to Mrs. Gould’s humanizing + influence. The doctor, with his habit of sceptical, bitter speech, had no + other means of showing his profound respect for the character of the woman + who was known in the country as the English Senora. He presented this + tribute very seriously indeed; it was no trifle for a man of his habits. + Mrs. Gould felt that, too, perfectly. She would never have thought of + imposing upon him this marked show of deference. + </p> + <p> + She kept her old Spanish house (one of the finest specimens in Sulaco) + open for the dispensation of the small graces of existence. She dispensed + them with simplicity and charm because she was guided by an alert + perception of values. She was highly gifted in the art of human + intercourse which consists in delicate shades of self-forgetfulness and in + the suggestion of universal comprehension. Charles Gould (the Gould + family, established in Costaguana for three generations, always went to + England for their education and for their wives) imagined that he had + fallen in love with a girl’s sound common sense like any other man, but + these were not exactly the reasons why, for instance, the whole surveying + camp, from the youngest of the young men to their mature chief, should + have found occasion to allude to Mrs. Gould’s house so frequently amongst + the high peaks of the Sierra. She would have protested that she had done + nothing for them, with a low laugh and a surprised widening of her grey + eyes, had anybody told her how convincingly she was remembered on the edge + of the snow-line above Sulaco. But directly, with a little capable air of + setting her wits to work, she would have found an explanation. “Of course, + it was such a surprise for these boys to find any sort of welcome here. + And I suppose they are homesick. I suppose everybody must be always just a + little homesick.” + </p> + <p> + She was always sorry for homesick people. + </p> + <p> + Born in the country, as his father before him, spare and tall, with a + flaming moustache, a neat chin, clear blue eyes, auburn hair, and a thin, + fresh, red face, Charles Gould looked like a new arrival from over the + sea. His grandfather had fought in the cause of independence under + Bolivar, in that famous English legion which on the battlefield of + Carabobo had been saluted by the great Liberator as Saviours of his + country. One of Charles Gould’s uncles had been the elected President of + that very province of Sulaco (then called a State) in the days of + Federation, and afterwards had been put up against the wall of a church + and shot by the order of the barbarous Unionist general, Guzman Bento. It + was the same Guzman Bento who, becoming later Perpetual President, famed + for his ruthless and cruel tyranny, readied his apotheosis in the popular + legend of a sanguinary land-haunting spectre whose body had been carried + off by the devil in person from the brick mausoleum in the nave of the + Church of Assumption in Sta. Marta. Thus, at least, the priests explained + its disappearance to the barefooted multitude that streamed in, awestruck, + to gaze at the hole in the side of the ugly box of bricks before the great + altar. + </p> + <p> + Guzman Bento of cruel memory had put to death great numbers of people + besides Charles Gould’s uncle; but with a relative martyred in the cause + of aristocracy, the Sulaco Oligarchs (this was the phraseology of Guzman + Bento’s time; now they were called Blancos, and had given up the federal + idea), which meant the families of pure Spanish descent, considered + Charles as one of themselves. With such a family record, no one could be + more of a Costaguanero than Don Carlos Gould; but his aspect was so + characteristic that in the talk of common people he was just the Inglez—the + Englishman of Sulaco. He looked more English than a casual tourist, a sort + of heretic pilgrim, however, quite unknown in Sulaco. He looked more + English than the last arrived batch of young railway engineers, than + anybody out of the hunting-field pictures in the numbers of Punch reaching + his wife’s drawing-room two months or so after date. It astonished you to + hear him talk Spanish (Castillan, as the natives say) or the Indian + dialect of the country-people so naturally. His accent had never been + English; but there was something so indelible in all these ancestral + Goulds—liberators, explorers, coffee planters, merchants, + revolutionists—of Costaguana, that he, the only representative of + the third generation in a continent possessing its own style of + horsemanship, went on looking thoroughly English even on horseback. This + is not said of him in the mocking spirit of the Llaneros—men of the + great plains—who think that no one in the world knows how to sit a + horse but themselves. Charles Gould, to use the suitably lofty phrase, + rode like a centaur. Riding for him was not a special form of exercise; it + was a natural faculty, as walking straight is to all men sound of mind and + limb; but, all the same, when cantering beside the rutty ox-cart track to + the mine he looked in his English clothes and with his imported saddlery + as though he had come this moment to Costaguana at his easy swift + pasotrote, straight out of some green meadow at the other side of the + world. + </p> + <p> + His way would lie along the old Spanish road—the Camino Real of + popular speech—the only remaining vestige of a fact and name left by + that royalty old Giorgio Viola hated, and whose very shadow had departed + from the land; for the big equestrian statue of Charles IV. at the + entrance of the Alameda, towering white against the trees, was only known + to the folk from the country and to the beggars of the town that slept on + the steps around the pedestal, as the Horse of Stone. The other Carlos, + turning off to the left with a rapid clatter of hoofs on the disjointed + pavement—Don Carlos Gould, in his English clothes, looked as + incongruous, but much more at home than the kingly cavalier reining in his + steed on the pedestal above the sleeping leperos, with his marble arm + raised towards the marble rim of a plumed hat. + </p> + <p> + The weather-stained effigy of the mounted king, with its vague suggestion + of a saluting gesture, seemed to present an inscrutable breast to the + political changes which had robbed it of its very name; but neither did + the other horseman, well known to the people, keen and alive on his + well-shaped, slate-coloured beast with a white eye, wear his heart on the + sleeve of his English coat. His mind preserved its steady poise as if + sheltered in the passionless stability of private and public decencies at + home in Europe. He accepted with a like calm the shocking manner in which + the Sulaco ladies smothered their faces with pearl powder till they looked + like white plaster casts with beautiful living eyes, the peculiar gossip + of the town, and the continuous political changes, the constant “saving of + the country,” which to his wife seemed a puerile and bloodthirsty game of + murder and rapine played with terrible earnestness by depraved children. + In the early days of her Costaguana life, the little lady used to clench + her hands with exasperation at not being able to take the public affairs + of the country as seriously as the incidental atrocity of methods + deserved. She saw in them a comedy of naive pretences, but hardly anything + genuine except her own appalled indignation. Charles, very quiet and + twisting his long moustaches, would decline to discuss them at all. Once, + however, he observed to her gently— + </p> + <p> + “My dear, you seem to forget that I was born here.” These few words made + her pause as if they had been a sudden revelation. Perhaps the mere fact + of being born in the country did make a difference. She had a great + confidence in her husband; it had always been very great. He had struck + her imagination from the first by his unsentimentalism, by that very + quietude of mind which she had erected in her thought for a sign of + perfect competency in the business of living. Don Jose Avellanos, their + neighbour across the street, a statesman, a poet, a man of culture, who + had represented his country at several European Courts (and had suffered + untold indignities as a state prisoner in the time of the tyrant Guzman + Bento), used to declare in Dona Emilia’s drawing-room that Carlos had all + the English qualities of character with a truly patriotic heart. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould, raising her eyes to her husband’s thin, red and tan face, + could not detect the slightest quiver of a feature at what he must have + heard said of his patriotism. Perhaps he had just dismounted on his return + from the mine; he was English enough to disregard the hottest hours of the + day. Basilio, in a livery of white linen and a red sash, had squatted for + a moment behind his heels to unstrap the heavy, blunt spurs in the patio; + and then the Senor Administrator would go up the staircase into the + gallery. Rows of plants in pots, ranged on the balustrade between the + pilasters of the arches, screened the corredor with their leaves and + flowers from the quadrangle below, whose paved space is the true + hearthstone of a South American house, where the quiet hours of domestic + life are marked by the shifting of light and shadow on the flagstones. + </p> + <p> + Senor Avellanos was in the habit of crossing the patio at five o’clock + almost every day. Don Jose chose to come over at tea-time because the + English rite at Dona Emilia’s house reminded him of the time he lived in + London as Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of St. James. He did not + like tea; and, usually, rocking his American chair, his neat little shiny + boots crossed on the foot-rest, he would talk on and on with a sort of + complacent virtuosity wonderful in a man of his age, while he held the cup + in his hands for a long time. His close-cropped head was perfectly white; + his eyes coalblack. + </p> + <p> + On seeing Charles Gould step into the sala he would nod provisionally and + go on to the end of the oratorial period. Only then he would say— + </p> + <p> + “Carlos, my friend, you have ridden from San Tome in the heat of the day. + Always the true English activity. No? What?” + </p> + <p> + He drank up all the tea at once in one draught. This performance was + invariably followed by a slight shudder and a low, involuntary “br-r-r-r,” + which was not covered by the hasty exclamation, “Excellent!” + </p> + <p> + Then giving up the empty cup into his young friend’s hand, extended with a + smile, he continued to expatiate upon the patriotic nature of the San Tome + mine for the simple pleasure of talking fluently, it seemed, while his + reclining body jerked backwards and forwards in a rocking-chair of the + sort exported from the United States. The ceiling of the largest + drawing-room of the Casa Gould extended its white level far above his + head. The loftiness dwarfed the mixture of heavy, straight-backed Spanish + chairs of brown wood with leathern seats, and European furniture, low, and + cushioned all over, like squat little monsters gorged to bursting with + steel springs and horsehair. There were knick-knacks on little tables, + mirrors let into the wall above marble consoles, square spaces of carpet + under the two groups of armchairs, each presided over by a deep sofa; + smaller rugs scattered all over the floor of red tiles; three windows from + the ceiling down to the ground, opening on a balcony, and flanked by the + perpendicular folds of the dark hangings. The stateliness of ancient days + lingered between the four high, smooth walls, tinted a delicate + primrose-colour; and Mrs. Gould, with her little head and shining coils of + hair, sitting in a cloud of muslin and lace before a slender mahogany + table, resembled a fairy posed lightly before dainty philtres dispensed + out of vessels of silver and porcelain. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould knew the history of the San Tome mine. Worked in the early days + mostly by means of lashes on the backs of slaves, its yield had been paid + for in its own weight of human bones. Whole tribes of Indians had perished + in the exploitation; and then the mine was abandoned, since with this + primitive method it had ceased to make a profitable return, no matter how + many corpses were thrown into its maw. Then it became forgotten. It was + rediscovered after the War of Independence. An English company obtained + the right to work it, and found so rich a vein that neither the exactions + of successive governments, nor the periodical raids of recruiting officers + upon the population of paid miners they had created, could discourage + their perseverance. But in the end, during the long turmoil of + pronunciamentos that followed the death of the famous Guzman Bento, the + native miners, incited to revolt by the emissaries sent out from the + capital, had risen upon their English chiefs and murdered them to a man. + The decree of confiscation which appeared immediately afterwards in the + Diario Official, published in Sta. Marta, began with the words: “Justly + incensed at the grinding oppression of foreigners, actuated by sordid + motives of gain rather than by love for a country where they come + impoverished to seek their fortunes, the mining population of San Tome, + etc. . . .” and ended with the declaration: “The chief of the State has + resolved to exercise to the full his power of clemency. The mine, which by + every law, international, human, and divine, reverts now to the Government + as national property, shall remain closed till the sword drawn for the + sacred defence of liberal principles has accomplished its mission of + securing the happiness of our beloved country.” + </p> + <p> + And for many years this was the last of the San Tome mine. What advantage + that Government had expected from the spoliation, it is impossible to tell + now. Costaguana was made with difficulty to pay a beggarly money + compensation to the families of the victims, and then the matter dropped + out of diplomatic despatches. But afterwards another Government bethought + itself of that valuable asset. It was an ordinary Costaguana Government—the + fourth in six years—but it judged of its opportunities sanely. It + remembered the San Tome mine with a secret conviction of its worthlessness + in their own hands, but with an ingenious insight into the various uses a + silver mine can be put to, apart from the sordid process of extracting the + metal from under the ground. The father of Charles Gould, for a long time + one of the most wealthy merchants of Costaguana, had already lost a + considerable part of his fortune in forced loans to the successive + Governments. He was a man of calm judgment, who never dreamed of pressing + his claims; and when, suddenly, the perpetual concession of the San Tome + mine was offered to him in full settlement, his alarm became extreme. He + was versed in the ways of Governments. Indeed, the intention of this + affair, though no doubt deeply meditated in the closet, lay open on the + surface of the document presented urgently for his signature. The third + and most important clause stipulated that the concession-holder should pay + at once to the Government five years’ royalties on the estimated output of + the mine. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gould, senior, defended himself from this fatal favour with many + arguments and entreaties, but without success. He knew nothing of mining; + he had no means to put his concession on the European market; the mine as + a working concern did not exist. The buildings had been burnt down, the + mining plant had been destroyed, the mining population had disappeared + from the neighbourhood years and years ago; the very road had vanished + under a flood of tropical vegetation as effectually as if swallowed by the + sea; and the main gallery had fallen in within a hundred yards from the + entrance. It was no longer an abandoned mine; it was a wild, inaccessible, + and rocky gorge of the Sierra, where vestiges of charred timber, some + heaps of smashed bricks, and a few shapeless pieces of rusty iron could + have been found under the matted mass of thorny creepers covering the + ground. Mr. Gould, senior, did not desire the perpetual possession of that + desolate locality; in fact, the mere vision of it arising before his mind + in the still watches of the night had the power to exasperate him into + hours of hot and agitated insomnia. + </p> + <p> + It so happened, however, that the Finance Minister of the time was a man + to whom, in years gone by, Mr. Gould had, unfortunately, declined to grant + some small pecuniary assistance, basing his refusal on the ground that the + applicant was a notorious gambler and cheat, besides being more than half + suspected of a robbery with violence on a wealthy ranchero in a remote + country district, where he was actually exercising the function of a + judge. Now, after reaching his exalted position, that politician had + proclaimed his intention to repay evil with good to Senor Gould—the + poor man. He affirmed and reaffirmed this resolution in the drawing-rooms + of Sta. Marta, in a soft and implacable voice, and with such malicious + glances that Mr. Gould’s best friends advised him earnestly to attempt no + bribery to get the matter dropped. It would have been useless. Indeed, it + would not have been a very safe proceeding. Such was also the opinion of a + stout, loud-voiced lady of French extraction, the daughter, she said, of + an officer of high rank (<i>officier superieur de l’armee</i>), who was + accommodated with lodgings within the walls of a secularized convent next + door to the Ministry of Finance. That florid person, when approached on + behalf of Mr. Gould in a proper manner, and with a suitable present, shook + her head despondently. She was good-natured, and her despondency was + genuine. She imagined she could not take money in consideration of + something she could not accomplish. The friend of Mr. Gould, charged with + the delicate mission, used to say afterwards that she was the only honest + person closely or remotely connected with the Government he had ever met. + “No go,” she had said with a cavalier, husky intonation which was natural + to her, and using turns of expression more suitable to a child of parents + unknown than to the orphaned daughter of a general officer. “No; it’s no + go. <i>Pas moyen, mon garcon. C’est dommage, tout de meme. Ah! zut! Je ne + vole pas mon monde. Je ne suis pas ministre—moi! Vous pouvez + emporter votre petit sac</i>.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment, biting her carmine lip, she deplored inwardly the tyranny of + the rigid principles governing the sale of her influence in high places. + Then, significantly, and with a touch of impatience, “<i>Allez</i>,” she + added, “<i>et dites bien a votre bonhomme—entendez-vous?—qu’il + faut avaler la pilule</i>.” + </p> + <p> + After such a warning there was nothing for it but to sign and pay. Mr. + Gould had swallowed the pill, and it was as though it had been compounded + of some subtle poison that acted directly on his brain. He became at once + mine-ridden, and as he was well read in light literature it took to his + mind the form of the Old Man of the Sea fastened upon his shoulders. He + also began to dream of vampires. Mr. Gould exaggerated to himself the + disadvantages of his new position, because he viewed it emotionally. His + position in Costaguana was no worse than before. But man is a desperately + conservative creature, and the extravagant novelty of this outrage upon + his purse distressed his sensibilities. Everybody around him was being + robbed by the grotesque and murderous bands that played their game of + governments and revolutions after the death of Guzman Bento. His + experience had taught him that, however short the plunder might fall of + their legitimate expectations, no gang in possession of the Presidential + Palace would be so incompetent as to suffer itself to be baffled by the + want of a pretext. The first casual colonel of the barefooted army of + scarecrows that came along was able to expose with force and precision to + any mere civilian his titles to a sum of 10,000 dollars; the while his + hope would be immutably fixed upon a gratuity, at any rate, of no less + than a thousand. Mr. Gould knew that very well, and, armed with + resignation, had waited for better times. But to be robbed under the forms + of legality and business was intolerable to his imagination. Mr. Gould, + the father, had one fault in his sagacious and honourable character: he + attached too much importance to form. It is a failing common to mankind, + whose views are tinged by prejudices. There was for him in that affair a + malignancy of perverted justice which, by means of a moral shock, attacked + his vigorous physique. “It will end by killing me,” he used to affirm many + times a day. And, in fact, since that time he began to suffer from fever, + from liver pains, and mostly from a worrying inability to think of + anything else. The Finance Minister could have formed no conception of the + profound subtlety of his revenge. Even Mr. Gould’s letters to his + fourteen-year-old boy Charles, then away in England for his education, + came at last to talk of practically nothing but the mine. He groaned over + the injustice, the persecution, the outrage of that mine; he occupied + whole pages in the exposition of the fatal consequences attaching to the + possession of that mine from every point of view, with every dismal + inference, with words of horror at the apparently eternal character of + that curse. For the Concession had been granted to him and his descendants + for ever. He implored his son never to return to Costaguana, never to + claim any part of his inheritance there, because it was tainted by the + infamous Concession; never to touch it, never to approach it, to forget + that America existed, and pursue a mercantile career in Europe. And each + letter ended with bitter self-reproaches for having stayed too long in + that cavern of thieves, intriguers, and brigands. + </p> + <p> + To be told repeatedly that one’s future is blighted because of the + possession of a silver mine is not, at the age of fourteen, a matter of + prime importance as to its main statement; but in its form it is + calculated to excite a certain amount of wonder and attention. In course + of time the boy, at first only puzzled by the angry jeremiads, but rather + sorry for his dad, began to turn the matter over in his mind in such + moments as he could spare from play and study. In about a year he had + evolved from the lecture of the letters a definite conviction that there + was a silver mine in the Sulaco province of the Republic of Costaguana, + where poor Uncle Harry had been shot by soldiers a great many years + before. There was also connected closely with that mine a thing called the + “iniquitous Gould Concession,” apparently written on a paper which his + father desired ardently to “tear and fling into the faces” of presidents, + members of judicature, and ministers of State. And this desire persisted, + though the names of these people, he noticed, seldom remained the same for + a whole year together. This desire (since the thing was iniquitous) seemed + quite natural to the boy, though why the affair was iniquitous he did not + know. Afterwards, with advancing wisdom, he managed to clear the plain + truth of the business from the fantastic intrusions of the Old Man of the + Sea, vampires, and ghouls, which had lent to his father’s correspondence + the flavour of a gruesome Arabian Nights tale. In the end, the growing + youth attained to as close an intimacy with the San Tome mine as the old + man who wrote these plaintive and enraged letters on the other side of the + sea. He had been made several times already to pay heavy fines for + neglecting to work the mine, he reported, besides other sums extracted + from him on account of future royalties, on the ground that a man with + such a valuable concession in his pocket could not refuse his financial + assistance to the Government of the Republic. The last of his fortune was + passing away from him against worthless receipts, he wrote, in a rage, + whilst he was being pointed out as an individual who had known how to + secure enormous advantages from the necessities of his country. And the + young man in Europe grew more and more interested in that thing which + could provoke such a tumult of words and passion. + </p> + <p> + He thought of it every day; but he thought of it without bitterness. It + might have been an unfortunate affair for his poor dad, and the whole + story threw a queer light upon the social and political life of + Costaguana. The view he took of it was sympathetic to his father, yet calm + and reflective. His personal feelings had not been outraged, and it is + difficult to resent with proper and durable indignation the physical or + mental anguish of another organism, even if that other organism is one’s + own father. By the time he was twenty Charles Gould had, in his turn, + fallen under the spell of the San Tome mine. But it was another form of + enchantment, more suitable to his youth, into whose magic formula there + entered hope, vigour, and self-confidence, instead of weary indignation + and despair. Left after he was twenty to his own guidance (except for the + severe injunction not to return to Costaguana), he had pursued his studies + in Belgium and France with the idea of qualifying for a mining engineer. + But this scientific aspect of his labours remained vague and imperfect in + his mind. Mines had acquired for him a dramatic interest. He studied their + peculiarities from a personal point of view, too, as one would study the + varied characters of men. He visited them as one goes with curiosity to + call upon remarkable persons. He visited mines in Germany, in Spain, in + Cornwall. Abandoned workings had for him strong fascination. Their + desolation appealed to him like the sight of human misery, whose causes + are varied and profound. They might have been worthless, but also they + might have been misunderstood. His future wife was the first, and perhaps + the only person to detect this secret mood which governed the profoundly + sensible, almost voiceless attitude of this man towards the world of + material things. And at once her delight in him, lingering with half-open + wings like those birds that cannot rise easily from a flat level, found a + pinnacle from which to soar up into the skies. + </p> + <p> + They had become acquainted in Italy, where the future Mrs. Gould was + staying with an old and pale aunt who, years before, had married a + middle-aged, impoverished Italian marquis. She now mourned that man, who + had known how to give up his life to the independence and unity of his + country, who had known how to be as enthusiastic in his generosity as the + youngest of those who fell for that very cause of which old Giorgio Viola + was a drifting relic, as a broken spar is suffered to float away + disregarded after a naval victory. The Marchesa led a still, whispering + existence, nun-like in her black robes and a white band over the forehead, + in a corner of the first floor of an ancient and ruinous palace, whose + big, empty halls downstairs sheltered under their painted ceilings the + harvests, the fowls, and even the cattle, together with the whole family + of the tenant farmer. + </p> + <p> + The two young people had met in Lucca. After that meeting Charles Gould + visited no mines, though they went together in a carriage, once, to see + some marble quarries, where the work resembled mining in so far that it + also was the tearing of the raw material of treasure from the earth. + Charles Gould did not open his heart to her in any set speeches. He simply + went on acting and thinking in her sight. This is the true method of + sincerity. One of his frequent remarks was, “I think sometimes that poor + father takes a wrong view of that San Tome business.” And they discussed + that opinion long and earnestly, as if they could influence a mind across + half the globe; but in reality they discussed it because the sentiment of + love can enter into any subject and live ardently in remote phrases. For + this natural reason these discussions were precious to Mrs. Gould in her + engaged state. Charles feared that Mr. Gould, senior, was wasting his + strength and making himself ill by his efforts to get rid of the + Concession. “I fancy that this is not the kind of handling it requires,” + he mused aloud, as if to himself. And when she wondered frankly that a man + of character should devote his energies to plotting and intrigues, Charles + would remark, with a gentle concern that understood her wonder, “You must + not forget that he was born there.” + </p> + <p> + She would set her quick mind to work upon that, and then make the + inconsequent retort, which he accepted as perfectly sagacious, because, in + fact, it was so— + </p> + <p> + “Well, and you? You were born there, too.” + </p> + <p> + He knew his answer. + </p> + <p> + “That’s different. I’ve been away ten years. Dad never had such a long + spell; and it was more than thirty years ago.” + </p> + <p> + She was the first person to whom he opened his lips after receiving the + news of his father’s death. + </p> + <p> + “It has killed him!” he said. + </p> + <p> + He had walked straight out of town with the news, straight out before him + in the noonday sun on the white road, and his feet had brought him face to + face with her in the hall of the ruined palazzo, a room magnificent and + naked, with here and there a long strip of damask, black with damp and + age, hanging down on a bare panel of the wall. It was furnished with + exactly one gilt armchair, with a broken back, and an octagon columnar + stand bearing a heavy marble vase ornamented with sculptured masks and + garlands of flowers, and cracked from top to bottom. Charles Gould was + dusty with the white dust of the road lying on his boots, on his + shoulders, on his cap with two peaks. Water dripped from under it all over + his face, and he grasped a thick oaken cudgel in his bare right hand. + </p> + <p> + She went very pale under the roses of her big straw hat, gloved, swinging + a clear sunshade, caught just as she was going out to meet him at the + bottom of the hill, where three poplars stand near the wall of a vineyard. + </p> + <p> + “It has killed him!” he repeated. “He ought to have had many years yet. We + are a long-lived family.” + </p> + <p> + She was too startled to say anything; he was contemplating with a + penetrating and motionless stare the cracked marble urn as though he had + resolved to fix its shape for ever in his memory. It was only when, + turning suddenly to her, he blurted out twice, “I’ve come to you—I’ve + come straight to you—,” without being able to finish his phrase, + that the great pitifulness of that lonely and tormented death in + Costaguana came to her with the full force of its misery. He caught hold + of her hand, raised it to his lips, and at that she dropped her parasol to + pat him on the cheek, murmured “Poor boy,” and began to dry her eyes under + the downward curve of her hat-brim, very small in her simple, white frock, + almost like a lost child crying in the degraded grandeur of the noble + hall, while he stood by her, again perfectly motionless in the + contemplation of the marble urn. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards they went out for a long walk, which was silent till he + exclaimed suddenly— + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But if he had only grappled with it in a proper way!” + </p> + <p> + And then they stopped. Everywhere there were long shadows lying on the + hills, on the roads, on the enclosed fields of olive trees; the shadows of + poplars, of wide chestnuts, of farm buildings, of stone walls; and in + mid-air the sound of a bell, thin and alert, was like the throbbing pulse + of the sunset glow. Her lips were slightly parted as though in surprise + that he should not be looking at her with his usual expression. His usual + expression was unconditionally approving and attentive. He was in his + talks with her the most anxious and deferential of dictators, an attitude + that pleased her immensely. It affirmed her power without detracting from + his dignity. That slight girl, with her little feet, little hands, little + face attractively overweighted by great coils of hair; with a rather large + mouth, whose mere parting seemed to breathe upon you the fragrance of + frankness and generosity, had the fastidious soul of an experienced woman. + She was, before all things and all flatteries, careful of her pride in the + object of her choice. But now he was actually not looking at her at all; + and his expression was tense and irrational, as is natural in a man who + elects to stare at nothing past a young girl’s head. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes. It was iniquitous. They corrupted him thoroughly, the poor old + boy. Oh! why wouldn’t he let me go back to him? But now I shall know how + to grapple with this.” + </p> + <p> + After pronouncing these words with immense assurance, he glanced down at + her, and at once fell a prey to distress, incertitude, and fear. + </p> + <p> + The only thing he wanted to know now, he said, was whether she did love + him enough—whether she would have the courage to go with him so far + away? He put these questions to her in a voice that trembled with anxiety—for + he was a determined man. + </p> + <p> + She did. She would. And immediately the future hostess of all the + Europeans in Sulaco had the physical experience of the earth falling away + from under her. It vanished completely, even to the very sound of the + bell. When her feet touched the ground again, the bell was still ringing + in the valley; she put her hands up to her hair, breathing quickly, and + glanced up and down the stony lane. It was reassuringly empty. Meantime, + Charles, stepping with one foot into a dry and dusty ditch, picked up the + open parasol, which had bounded away from them with a martial sound of + drum taps. He handed it to her soberly, a little crestfallen. + </p> + <p> + They turned back, and after she had slipped her hand on his arm, the first + words he pronounced were— + </p> + <p> + “It’s lucky that we shall be able to settle in a coast town. You’ve heard + its name. It is Sulaco. I am so glad poor father did get that house. He + bought a big house there years ago, in order that there should always be a + Casa Gould in the principal town of what used to be called the Occidental + Province. I lived there once, as a small boy, with my dear mother, for a + whole year, while poor father was away in the United States on business. + You shall be the new mistress of the Casa Gould.” + </p> + <p> + And later, in the inhabited corner of the Palazzo above the vineyards, the + marble hills, the pines and olives of Lucca, he also said— + </p> + <p> + “The name of Gould has been always highly respected in Sulaco. My uncle + Harry was chief of the State for some time, and has left a great name + amongst the first families. By this I mean the pure Creole families, who + take no part in the miserable farce of governments. Uncle Harry was no + adventurer. In Costaguana we Goulds are no adventurers. He was of the + country, and he loved it, but he remained essentially an Englishman in his + ideas. He made use of the political cry of his time. It was Federation. + But he was no politician. He simply stood up for social order out of pure + love for rational liberty and from his hate of oppression. There was no + nonsense about him. He went to work in his own way because it seemed + right, just as I feel I must lay hold of that mine.” + </p> + <p> + In such words he talked to her because his memory was very full of the + country of his childhood, his heart of his life with that girl, and his + mind of the San Tome Concession. He added that he would have to leave her + for a few days to find an American, a man from San Francisco, who was + still somewhere in Europe. A few months before he had made his + acquaintance in an old historic German town, situated in a mining + district. The American had his womankind with him, but seemed lonely while + they were sketching all day long the old doorways and the turreted corners + of the mediaeval houses. Charles Gould had with him the inseparable + companionship of the mine. The other man was interested in mining + enterprises, knew something of Costaguana, and was no stranger to the name + of Gould. They had talked together with some intimacy which was made + possible by the difference of their ages. Charles wanted now to find that + capitalist of shrewd mind and accessible character. His father’s fortune + in Costaguana, which he had supposed to be still considerable, seemed to + have melted in the rascally crucible of revolutions. Apart from some ten + thousand pounds deposited in England, there appeared to be nothing left + except the house in Sulaco, a vague right of forest exploitation in a + remote and savage district, and the San Tome Concession, which had + attended his poor father to the very brink of the grave. + </p> + <p> + He explained those things. It was late when they parted. She had never + before given him such a fascinating vision of herself. All the eagerness + of youth for a strange life, for great distances, for a future in which + there was an air of adventure, of combat—a subtle thought of redress + and conquest, had filled her with an intense excitement, which she + returned to the giver with a more open and exquisite display of + tenderness. + </p> + <p> + He left her to walk down the hill, and directly he found himself alone he + became sober. That irreparable change a death makes in the course of our + daily thoughts can be felt in a vague and poignant discomfort of mind. It + hurt Charles Gould to feel that never more, by no effort of will, would he + be able to think of his father in the same way he used to think of him + when the poor man was alive. His breathing image was no longer in his + power. This consideration, closely affecting his own identity, filled his + breast with a mournful and angry desire for action. In this his instinct + was unerring. Action is consolatory. It is the enemy of thought and the + friend of flattering illusions. Only in the conduct of our action can we + find the sense of mastery over the Fates. For his action, the mine was + obviously the only field. It was imperative sometimes to know how to + disobey the solemn wishes of the dead. He resolved firmly to make his + disobedience as thorough (by way of atonement) as it well could be. The + mine had been the cause of an absurd moral disaster; its working must be + made a serious and moral success. He owed it to the dead man’s memory. + Such were the—properly speaking—emotions of Charles Gould. His + thoughts ran upon the means of raising a large amount of capital in San + Francisco or elsewhere; and incidentally there occurred to him also the + general reflection that the counsel of the departed must be an unsound + guide. Not one of them could be aware beforehand what enormous changes the + death of any given individual may produce in the very aspect of the world. + </p> + <p> + The latest phase in the history of the mine Mrs. Gould knew from personal + experience. It was in essence the history of her married life. The mantle + of the Goulds’ hereditary position in Sulaco had descended amply upon her + little person; but she would not allow the peculiarities of the strange + garment to weigh down the vivacity of her character, which was the sign of + no mere mechanical sprightliness, but of an eager intelligence. It must + not be supposed that Mrs. Gould’s mind was masculine. A woman with a + masculine mind is not a being of superior efficiency; she is simply a + phenomenon of imperfect differentiation—interestingly barren and + without importance. Dona Emilia’s intelligence being feminine led her to + achieve the conquest of Sulaco, simply by lighting the way for her + unselfishness and sympathy. She could converse charmingly, but she was not + talkative. The wisdom of the heart having no concern with the erection or + demolition of theories any more than with the defence of prejudices, has + no random words at its command. The words it pronounces have the value of + acts of integrity, tolerance, and compassion. A woman’s true tenderness, + like the true virility of man, is expressed in action of a conquering + kind. The ladies of Sulaco adored Mrs. Gould. “They still look upon me as + something of a monster,” Mrs. Gould had said pleasantly to one of the + three gentlemen from San Francisco she had to entertain in her new Sulaco + house just about a year after her marriage. + </p> + <p> + They were her first visitors from abroad, and they had come to look at the + San Tome mine. She jested most agreeably, they thought; and Charles Gould, + besides knowing thoroughly what he was about, had shown himself a real + hustler. These facts caused them to be well disposed towards his wife. An + unmistakable enthusiasm, pointed by a slight flavour of irony, made her + talk of the mine absolutely fascinating to her visitors, and provoked them + to grave and indulgent smiles in which there was a good deal of deference. + Perhaps had they known how much she was inspired by an idealistic view of + success they would have been amazed at the state of her mind as the + Spanish-American ladies had been amazed at the tireless activity of her + body. She would—in her own words—have been for them “something + of a monster.” However, the Goulds were in essentials a reticent couple, + and their guests departed without the suspicion of any other purpose but + simple profit in the working of a silver mine. Mrs. Gould had out her own + carriage, with two white mules, to drive them down to the harbour, whence + the Ceres was to carry them off into the Olympus of plutocrats. Captain + Mitchell had snatched at the occasion of leave-taking to remark to Mrs. + Gould, in a low, confidential mutter, “This marks an epoch.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould loved the patio of her Spanish house. A broad flight of stone + steps was overlooked silently from a niche in the wall by a Madonna in + blue robes with the crowned child sitting on her arm. Subdued voices + ascended in the early mornings from the paved well of the quadrangle, with + the stamping of horses and mules led out in pairs to drink at the cistern. + A tangle of slender bamboo stems drooped its narrow, blade-like leaves + over the square pool of water, and the fat coachman sat muffled up on the + edge, holding lazily the ends of halters in his hand. Barefooted servants + passed to and fro, issuing from dark, low doorways below; two laundry + girls with baskets of washed linen; the baker with the tray of bread made + for the day; Leonarda—her own camerista—bearing high up, swung + from her hand raised above her raven black head, a bunch of starched + under-skirts dazzlingly white in the slant of sunshine. Then the old + porter would hobble in, sweeping the flagstones, and the house was ready + for the day. All the lofty rooms on three sides of the quadrangle opened + into each other and into the corredor, with its wrought-iron railings and + a border of flowers, whence, like the lady of the mediaeval castle, she + could witness from above all the departures and arrivals of the Casa, to + which the sonorous arched gateway lent an air of stately importance. + </p> + <p> + She had watched her carriage roll away with the three guests from the + north. She smiled. Their three arms went up simultaneously to their three + hats. Captain Mitchell, the fourth, in attendance, had already begun a + pompous discourse. Then she lingered. She lingered, approaching her face + to the clusters of flowers here and there as if to give time to her + thoughts to catch up with her slow footsteps along the straight vista of + the corredor. + </p> + <p> + A fringed Indian hammock from Aroa, gay with coloured featherwork, had + been swung judiciously in a corner that caught the early sun; for the + mornings are cool in Sulaco. The cluster of <i>flor de noche buena</i> + blazed in great masses before the open glass doors of the reception rooms. + A big green parrot, brilliant like an emerald in a cage that flashed like + gold, screamed out ferociously, “<i>Viva Costaguana!</i>” then called + twice mellifluously, “Leonarda! Leonarda!” in imitation of Mrs. Gould’s + voice, and suddenly took refuge in immobility and silence. Mrs. Gould + reached the end of the gallery and put her head through the door of her + husband’s room. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, with one foot on a low wooden stool, was already strapping + his spurs. He wanted to hurry back to the mine. Mrs. Gould, without coming + in, glanced about the room. One tall, broad bookcase, with glass doors, + was full of books; but in the other, without shelves, and lined with red + baize, were arranged firearms: Winchester carbines, revolvers, a couple of + shot-guns, and even two pairs of double-barrelled holster pistols. Between + them, by itself, upon a strip of scarlet velvet, hung an old cavalry + sabre, once the property of Don Enrique Gould, the hero of the Occidental + Province, presented by Don Jose Avellanos, the hereditary friend of the + family. + </p> + <p> + Otherwise, the plastered white walls were completely bare, except for a + water-colour sketch of the San Tome mountain—the work of Dona Emilia + herself. In the middle of the red-tiled floor stood two long tables + littered with plans and papers, a few chairs, and a glass show-case + containing specimens of ore from the mine. Mrs. Gould, looking at all + these things in turn, wondered aloud why the talk of these wealthy and + enterprising men discussing the prospects, the working, and the safety of + the mine rendered her so impatient and uneasy, whereas she could talk of + the mine by the hour with her husband with unwearied interest and + satisfaction. And dropping her eyelids expressively, she added— + </p> + <p> + “What do you feel about it, Charley?” + </p> + <p> + Then, surprised at her husband’s silence, she raised her eyes, opened + wide, as pretty as pale flowers. He had done with the spurs, and, twisting + his moustache with both hands, horizontally, he contemplated her from the + height of his long legs with a visible appreciation of her appearance. The + consciousness of being thus contemplated pleased Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “They are considerable men,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I know. But have you listened to their conversation? They don’t seem to + have understood anything they have seen here.” + </p> + <p> + “They have seen the mine. They have understood that to some purpose,” + Charles Gould interjected, in defence of the visitors; and then his wife + mentioned the name of the most considerable of the three. He was + considerable in finance and in industry. His name was familiar to many + millions of people. He was so considerable that he would never have + travelled so far away from the centre of his activity if the doctors had + not insisted, with veiled menaces, on his taking a long holiday. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Holroyd’s sense of religion,” Mrs. Gould pursued, “was shocked and + disgusted at the tawdriness of the dressed-up saints in the cathedral—the + worship, he called it, of wood and tinsel. But it seemed to me that he + looked upon his own God as a sort of influential partner, who gets his + share of profits in the endowment of churches. That’s a sort of idolatry. + He told me he endowed churches every year, Charley.” + </p> + <p> + “No end of them,” said Mr. Gould, marvelling inwardly at the mobility of + her physiognomy. “All over the country. He’s famous for that sort of + munificence.” “Oh, he didn’t boast,” Mrs. Gould declared, scrupulously. “I + believe he’s really a good man, but so stupid! A poor Chulo who offers a + little silver arm or leg to thank his god for a cure is as rational and + more touching.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s at the head of immense silver and iron interests,” Charles Gould + observed. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! The religion of silver and iron. He’s a very civil man, though + he looked awfully solemn when he first saw the Madonna on the staircase, + who’s only wood and paint; but he said nothing to me. My dear Charley, I + heard those men talk among themselves. Can it be that they really wish to + become, for an immense consideration, drawers of water and hewers of wood + to all the countries and nations of the earth?” + </p> + <p> + “A man must work to some end,” Charles Gould said, vaguely. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould, frowning, surveyed him from head to foot. With his riding + breeches, leather leggings (an article of apparel never before seen in + Costaguana), a Norfolk coat of grey flannel, and those great flaming + moustaches, he suggested an officer of cavalry turned gentleman farmer. + This combination was gratifying to Mrs. Gould’s tastes. “How thin the poor + boy is!” she thought. “He overworks himself.” But there was no denying + that his fine-drawn, keen red face, and his whole, long-limbed, lank + person had an air of breeding and distinction. And Mrs. Gould relented. + </p> + <p> + “I only wondered what you felt,” she murmured, gently. + </p> + <p> + During the last few days, as it happened, Charles Gould had been kept too + busy thinking twice before he spoke to have paid much attention to the + state of his feelings. But theirs was a successful match, and he had no + difficulty in finding his answer. + </p> + <p> + “The best of my feelings are in your keeping, my dear,” he said, lightly; + and there was so much truth in that obscure phrase that he experienced + towards her at the moment a great increase of gratitude and tenderness. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould, however, did not seem to find this answer in the least + obscure. She brightened up delicately; already he had changed his tone. + </p> + <p> + “But there are facts. The worth of the mine—as a mine—is + beyond doubt. It shall make us very wealthy. The mere working of it is a + matter of technical knowledge, which I have—which ten thousand other + men in the world have. But its safety, its continued existence as an + enterprise, giving a return to men—to strangers, comparative + strangers—who invest money in it, is left altogether in my hands. I + have inspired confidence in a man of wealth and position. You seem to + think this perfectly natural—do you? Well, I don’t know. I don’t + know why I have; but it is a fact. This fact makes everything possible, + because without it I would never have thought of disregarding my father’s + wishes. I would never have disposed of the Concession as a speculator + disposes of a valuable right to a company—for cash and shares, to + grow rich eventually if possible, but at any rate to put some money at + once in his pocket. No. Even if it had been feasible—which I doubt—I + would not have done so. Poor father did not understand. He was afraid I + would hang on to the ruinous thing, waiting for just some such chance, and + waste my life miserably. That was the true sense of his prohibition, which + we have deliberately set aside.” + </p> + <p> + They were walking up and down the corredor. Her head just reached to his + shoulder. His arm, extended downwards, was about her waist. His spurs + jingled slightly. + </p> + <p> + “He had not seen me for ten years. He did not know me. He parted from me + for my sake, and he would never let me come back. He was always talking in + his letters of leaving Costaguana, of abandoning everything and making his + escape. But he was too valuable a prey. They would have thrown him into + one of their prisons at the first suspicion.” + </p> + <p> + His spurred feet clinked slowly. He was bending over his wife as they + walked. The big parrot, turning its head askew, followed their pacing + figures with a round, unblinking eye. + </p> + <p> + “He was a lonely man. Ever since I was ten years old he used to talk to me + as if I had been grown up. When I was in Europe he wrote to me every + month. Ten, twelve pages every month of my life for ten years. And, after + all, he did not know me! Just think of it—ten whole years away; the + years I was growing up into a man. He could not know me. Do you think he + could?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould shook her head negatively; which was just what her husband had + expected from the strength of the argument. But she shook her head + negatively only because she thought that no one could know her Charles—really + know him for what he was but herself. The thing was obvious. It could be + felt. It required no argument. And poor Mr. Gould, senior, who had died + too soon to ever hear of their engagement, remained too shadowy a figure + for her to be credited with knowledge of any sort whatever. + </p> + <p> + “No, he did not understand. In my view this mine could never have been a + thing to sell. Never! After all his misery I simply could not have touched + it for money alone,” Charles Gould pursued: and she pressed her head to + his shoulder approvingly. + </p> + <p> + These two young people remembered the life which had ended wretchedly just + when their own lives had come together in that splendour of hopeful love, + which to the most sensible minds appears like a triumph of good over all + the evils of the earth. A vague idea of rehabilitation had entered the + plan of their life. That it was so vague as to elude the support of + argument made it only the stronger. It had presented itself to them at the + instant when the woman’s instinct of devotion and the man’s instinct of + activity receive from the strongest of illusions their most powerful + impulse. The very prohibition imposed the necessity of success. It was as + if they had been morally bound to make good their vigorous view of life + against the unnatural error of weariness and despair. If the idea of + wealth was present to them it was only in so far as it was bound with that + other success. Mrs. Gould, an orphan from early childhood and without + fortune, brought up in an atmosphere of intellectual interests, had never + considered the aspects of great wealth. They were too remote, and she had + not learned that they were desirable. On the other hand, she had not known + anything of absolute want. Even the very poverty of her aunt, the + Marchesa, had nothing intolerable to a refined mind; it seemed in accord + with a great grief: it had the austerity of a sacrifice offered to a noble + ideal. Thus even the most legitimate touch of materialism was wanting in + Mrs. Gould’s character. The dead man of whom she thought with tenderness + (because he was Charley’s father) and with some impatience (because he had + been weak), must be put completely in the wrong. Nothing else would do to + keep their prosperity without a stain on its only real, on its immaterial + side! + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, on his part, had been obliged to keep the idea of wealth + well to the fore; but he brought it forward as a means, not as an end. + Unless the mine was good business it could not be touched. He had to + insist on that aspect of the enterprise. It was his lever to move men who + had capital. And Charles Gould believed in the mine. He knew everything + that could be known of it. His faith in the mine was contagious, though it + was not served by a great eloquence; but business men are frequently as + sanguine and imaginative as lovers. They are affected by a personality + much oftener than people would suppose; and Charles Gould, in his unshaken + assurance, was absolutely convincing. Besides, it was a matter of common + knowledge to the men to whom he addressed himself that mining in + Costaguana was a game that could be made considerably more than worth the + candle. The men of affairs knew that very well. The real difficulty in + touching it was elsewhere. Against that there was an implication of calm + and implacable resolution in Charles Gould’s very voice. Men of affairs + venture sometimes on acts that the common judgment of the world would + pronounce absurd; they make their decisions on apparently impulsive and + human grounds. “Very well,” had said the considerable personage to whom + Charles Gould on his way out through San Francisco had lucidly exposed his + point of view. “Let us suppose that the mining affairs of Sulaco are taken + in hand. There would then be in it: first, the house of Holroyd, which is + all right; then, Mr. Charles Gould, a citizen of Costaguana, who is also + all right; and, lastly, the Government of the Republic. So far this + resembles the first start of the Atacama nitrate fields, where there was a + financing house, a gentleman of the name of Edwards, and—a + Government; or, rather, two Governments—two South American + Governments. And you know what came of it. War came of it; devastating and + prolonged war came of it, Mr. Gould. However, here we possess the + advantage of having only one South American Government hanging around for + plunder out of the deal. It is an advantage; but then there are degrees of + badness, and that Government is the Costaguana Government.” + </p> + <p> + Thus spoke the considerable personage, the millionaire endower of churches + on a scale befitting the greatness of his native land—the same to + whom the doctors used the language of horrid and veiled menaces. He was a + big-limbed, deliberate man, whose quiet burliness lent to an ample + silk-faced frock-coat a superfine dignity. His hair was iron grey, his + eyebrows were still black, and his massive profile was the profile of a + Caesar’s head on an old Roman coin. But his parentage was German and + Scotch and English, with remote strains of Danish and French blood, giving + him the temperament of a Puritan and an insatiable imagination of + conquest. He was completely unbending to his visitor, because of the warm + introduction the visitor had brought from Europe, and because of an + irrational liking for earnestness and determination wherever met, to + whatever end directed. + </p> + <p> + “The Costaguana Government shall play its hand for all it’s worth—and + don’t you forget it, Mr. Gould. Now, what is Costaguana? It is the + bottomless pit of 10 per cent. loans and other fool investments. European + capital has been flung into it with both hands for years. Not ours, + though. We in this country know just about enough to keep indoors when it + rains. We can sit and watch. Of course, some day we shall step in. We are + bound to. But there’s no hurry. Time itself has got to wait on the + greatest country in the whole of God’s Universe. We shall be giving the + word for everything: industry, trade, law, journalism, art, politics, and + religion, from Cape Horn clear over to Smith’s Sound, and beyond, too, if + anything worth taking hold of turns up at the North Pole. And then we + shall have the leisure to take in hand the outlying islands and continents + of the earth. We shall run the world’s business whether the world likes it + or not. The world can’t help it—and neither can we, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + By this he meant to express his faith in destiny in words suitable to his + intelligence, which was unskilled in the presentation of general ideas. + His intelligence was nourished on facts; and Charles Gould, whose + imagination had been permanently affected by the one great fact of a + silver mine, had no objection to this theory of the world’s future. If it + had seemed distasteful for a moment it was because the sudden statement of + such vast eventualities dwarfed almost to nothingness the actual matter in + hand. He and his plans and all the mineral wealth of the Occidental + Province appeared suddenly robbed of every vestige of magnitude. The + sensation was disagreeable; but Charles Gould was not dull. Already he + felt that he was producing a favourable impression; the consciousness of + that flattering fact helped him to a vague smile, which his big + interlocutor took for a smile of discreet and admiring assent. He smiled + quietly, too; and immediately Charles Gould, with that mental agility + mankind will display in defence of a cherished hope, reflected that the + very apparent insignificance of his aim would help him to success. His + personality and his mine would be taken up because it was a matter of no + great consequence, one way or another, to a man who referred his action to + such a prodigious destiny. And Charles Gould was not humiliated by this + consideration, because the thing remained as big as ever for him. Nobody + else’s vast conceptions of destiny could diminish the aspect of his desire + for the redemption of the San Tome mine. In comparison to the correctness + of his aim, definite in space and absolutely attainable within a limited + time, the other man appeared for an instant as a dreamy idealist of no + importance. + </p> + <p> + The great man, massive and benignant, had been looking at him + thoughtfully; when he broke the short silence it was to remark that + concessions flew about thick in the air of Costaguana. Any simple soul + that just yearned to be taken in could bring down a concession at the + first shot. + </p> + <p> + “Our consuls get their mouths stopped with them,” he continued, with a + twinkle of genial scorn in his eyes. But in a moment he became grave. “A + conscientious, upright man, that cares nothing for boodle, and keeps clear + of their intrigues, conspiracies, and factions, soon gets his passports. + See that, Mr. Gould? Persona non grata. That’s the reason our Government + is never properly informed. On the other hand, Europe must be kept out of + this continent, and for proper interference on our part the time is not + yet ripe, I dare say. But we here—we are not this country’s + Government, neither are we simple souls. Your affair is all right. The + main question for us is whether the second partner, and that’s you, is the + right sort to hold his own against the third and unwelcome partner, which + is one or another of the high and mighty robber gangs that run the + Costaguana Government. What do you think, Mr. Gould, eh?” + </p> + <p> + He bent forward to look steadily into the unflinching eyes of Charles + Gould, who, remembering the large box full of his father’s letters, put + the accumulated scorn and bitterness of many years into the tone of his + answer— + </p> + <p> + “As far as the knowledge of these men and their methods and their politics + is concerned, I can answer for myself. I have been fed on that sort of + knowledge since I was a boy. I am not likely to fall into mistakes from + excess of optimism.” + </p> + <p> + “Not likely, eh? That’s all right. Tact and a stiff upper lip is what + you’ll want; and you could bluff a little on the strength of your backing. + Not too much, though. We will go with you as long as the thing runs + straight. But we won’t be drawn into any large trouble. This is the + experiment which I am willing to make. There is some risk, and we will + take it; but if you can’t keep up your end, we will stand our loss, of + course, and then—we’ll let the thing go. This mine can wait; it has + been shut up before, as you know. You must understand that under no + circumstances will we consent to throw good money after bad.” + </p> + <p> + Thus the great personage had spoken then, in his own private office, in a + great city where other men (very considerable in the eyes of a vain + populace) waited with alacrity upon a wave of his hand. And rather more + than a year later, during his unexpected appearance in Sulaco, he had + emphasized his uncompromising attitude with a freedom of sincerity + permitted to his wealth and influence. He did this with the less reserve, + perhaps, because the inspection of what had been done, and more still the + way in which successive steps had been taken, had impressed him with the + conviction that Charles Gould was perfectly capable of keeping up his end. + </p> + <p> + “This young fellow,” he thought to himself, “may yet become a power in the + land.” + </p> + <p> + This thought flattered him, for hitherto the only account of this young + man he could give to his intimates was— + </p> + <p> + “My brother-in-law met him in one of these one-horse old German towns, + near some mines, and sent him on to me with a letter. He’s one of the + Costaguana Goulds, pure-bred Englishmen, but all born in the country. His + uncle went into politics, was the last Provincial President of Sulaco, and + got shot after a battle. His father was a prominent business man in Sta. + Marta, tried to keep clear of their politics, and died ruined after a lot + of revolutions. And that’s your Costaguana in a nutshell.” + </p> + <p> + Of course, he was too great a man to be questioned as to his motives, even + by his intimates. The outside world was at liberty to wonder respectfully + at the hidden meaning of his actions. He was so great a man that his + lavish patronage of the “purer forms of Christianity” (which in its naive + form of church-building amused Mrs. Gould) was looked upon by his + fellow-citizens as the manifestation of a pious and humble spirit. But in + his own circles of the financial world the taking up of such a thing as + the San Tome mine was regarded with respect, indeed, but rather as a + subject for discreet jocularity. It was a great man’s caprice. In the + great Holroyd building (an enormous pile of iron, glass, and blocks of + stone at the corner of two streets, cobwebbed aloft by the radiation of + telegraph wires) the heads of principal departments exchanged humorous + glances, which meant that they were not let into the secrets of the San + Tome business. The Costaguana mail (it was never large—one fairly + heavy envelope) was taken unopened straight into the great man’s room, and + no instructions dealing with it had ever been issued thence. The office + whispered that he answered personally—and not by dictation either, + but actually writing in his own hand, with pen and ink, and, it was to be + supposed, taking a copy in his own private press copy-book, inaccessible + to profane eyes. Some scornful young men, insignificant pieces of minor + machinery in that eleven-storey-high workshop of great affairs, expressed + frankly their private opinion that the great chief had done at last + something silly, and was ashamed of his folly; others, elderly and + insignificant, but full of romantic reverence for the business that had + devoured their best years, used to mutter darkly and knowingly that this + was a portentous sign; that the Holroyd connection meant by-and-by to get + hold of the whole Republic of Costaguana, lock, stock, and barrel. But, in + fact, the hobby theory was the right one. It interested the great man to + attend personally to the San Tome mine; it interested him so much that he + allowed this hobby to give a direction to the first complete holiday he + had taken for quite a startling number of years. He was not running a + great enterprise there; no mere railway board or industrial corporation. + He was running a man! A success would have pleased him very much on + refreshingly novel grounds; but, on the other side of the same feeling, it + was incumbent upon him to cast it off utterly at the first sign of + failure. A man may be thrown off. The papers had unfortunately trumpeted + all over the land his journey to Costaguana. If he was pleased at the way + Charles Gould was going on, he infused an added grimness into his + assurances of support. Even at the very last interview, half an hour or so + before he rolled out of the patio, hat in hand, behind Mrs. Gould’s white + mules, he had said in Charles’s room— + </p> + <p> + “You go ahead in your own way, and I shall know how to help you as long as + you hold your own. But you may rest assured that in a given case we shall + know how to drop you in time.” + </p> + <p> + To this Charles Gould’s only answer had been: “You may begin sending out + the machinery as soon as you like.” + </p> + <p> + And the great man had liked this imperturbable assurance. The secret of it + was that to Charles Gould’s mind these uncompromising terms were + agreeable. Like this the mine preserved its identity, with which he had + endowed it as a boy; and it remained dependent on himself alone. It was a + serious affair, and he, too, took it grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he said to his wife, alluding to this last conversation with + the departed guest, while they walked slowly up and down the corredor, + followed by the irritated eye of the parrot—“of course, a man of + that sort can take up a thing or drop it when he likes. He will suffer + from no sense of defeat. He may have to give in, or he may have to die + to-morrow, but the great silver and iron interests will survive, and some + day will get hold of Costaguana along with the rest of the world.” + </p> + <p> + They had stopped near the cage. The parrot, catching the sound of a word + belonging to his vocabulary, was moved to interfere. Parrots are very + human. + </p> + <p> + “Viva Costaguana!” he shrieked, with intense self-assertion, and, + instantly ruffling up his feathers, assumed an air of puffed-up somnolence + behind the glittering wires. + </p> + <p> + “And do you believe that, Charley?” Mrs. Gould asked. “This seems to me + most awful materialism, and—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, it’s nothing to me,” interrupted her husband, in a reasonable + tone. “I make use of what I see. What’s it to me whether his talk is the + voice of destiny or simply a bit of clap-trap eloquence? There’s a good + deal of eloquence of one sort or another produced in both Americas. The + air of the New World seems favourable to the art of declamation. Have you + forgotten how dear Avellanos can hold forth for hours here—?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but that’s different,” protested Mrs. Gould, almost shocked. The + allusion was not to the point. Don Jose was a dear good man, who talked + very well, and was enthusiastic about the greatness of the San Tome mine. + “How can you compare them, Charles?” she exclaimed, reproachfully. “He has + suffered—and yet he hopes.” + </p> + <p> + The working competence of men—which she never questioned—was + very surprising to Mrs. Gould, because upon so many obvious issues they + showed themselves strangely muddle-headed. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, with a careworn calmness which secured for him at once his + wife’s anxious sympathy, assured her that he was not comparing. He was an + American himself, after all, and perhaps he could understand both kinds of + eloquence—“if it were worth while to try,” he added, grimly. But he + had breathed the air of England longer than any of his people had done for + three generations, and really he begged to be excused. His poor father + could be eloquent, too. And he asked his wife whether she remembered a + passage in one of his father’s last letters where Mr. Gould had expressed + the conviction that “God looked wrathfully at these countries, or else He + would let some ray of hope fall through a rift in the appalling darkness + of intrigue, bloodshed, and crime that hung over the Queen of Continents.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould had not forgotten. “You read it to me, Charley,” she murmured. + “It was a striking pronouncement. How deeply your father must have felt + its terrible sadness!” + </p> + <p> + “He did not like to be robbed. It exasperated him,” said Charles Gould. + “But the image will serve well enough. What is wanted here is law, good + faith, order, security. Any one can declaim about these things, but I pin + my faith to material interests. Only let the material interests once get a + firm footing, and they are bound to impose the conditions on which alone + they can continue to exist. That’s how your money-making is justified here + in the face of lawlessness and disorder. It is justified because the + security which it demands must be shared with an oppressed people. A + better justice will come afterwards. That’s your ray of hope.” His arm + pressed her slight form closer to his side for a moment. “And who knows + whether in that sense even the San Tome mine may not become that little + rift in the darkness which poor father despaired of ever seeing?” + </p> + <p> + She glanced up at him with admiration. He was competent; he had given a + vast shape to the vagueness of her unselfish ambitions. + </p> + <p> + “Charley,” she said, “you are splendidly disobedient.” + </p> + <p> + He left her suddenly in the corredor to go and get his hat, a soft, grey + sombrero, an article of national costume which combined unexpectedly well + with his English get-up. He came back, a riding-whip under his arm, + buttoning up a dogskin glove; his face reflected the resolute nature of + his thoughts. His wife had waited for him at the head of the stairs, and + before he gave her the parting kiss he finished the conversation— + </p> + <p> + “What should be perfectly clear to us,” he said, “is the fact that there + is no going back. Where could we begin life afresh? We are in now for all + that there is in us.” + </p> + <p> + He bent over her upturned face very tenderly and a little remorsefully. + Charles Gould was competent because he had no illusions. The Gould + Concession had to fight for life with such weapons as could be found at + once in the mire of a corruption that was so universal as almost to lose + its significance. He was prepared to stoop for his weapons. For a moment + he felt as if the silver mine, which had killed his father, had decoyed + him further than he meant to go; and with the roundabout logic of + emotions, he felt that the worthiness of his life was bound up with + success. There was no going back. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER SEVEN + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Gould was too intelligently sympathetic not to share that feeling. It + made life exciting, and she was too much of a woman not to like + excitement. But it frightened her, too, a little; and when Don Jose + Avellanos, rocking in the American chair, would go so far as to say, + “Even, my dear Carlos, if you had failed; even if some untoward event were + yet to destroy your work—which God forbid!—you would have + deserved well of your country,” Mrs. Gould would look up from the + tea-table profoundly at her unmoved husband stirring the spoon in the cup + as though he had not heard a word. + </p> + <p> + Not that Don Jose anticipated anything of the sort. He could not praise + enough dear Carlos’s tact and courage. His English, rock-like quality of + character was his best safeguard, Don Jose affirmed; and, turning to Mrs. + Gould, “As to you, Emilia, my soul”—he would address her with the + familiarity of his age and old friendship—“you are as true a patriot + as though you had been born in our midst.” + </p> + <p> + This might have been less or more than the truth. Mrs. Gould, accompanying + her husband all over the province in the search for labour, had seen the + land with a deeper glance than a trueborn Costaguanera could have done. In + her travel-worn riding habit, her face powdered white like a plaster cast, + with a further protection of a small silk mask during the heat of the day, + she rode on a well-shaped, light-footed pony in the centre of a little + cavalcade. Two mozos de campo, picturesque in great hats, with spurred + bare heels, in white embroidered calzoneras, leather jackets and striped + ponchos, rode ahead with carbines across their shoulders, swaying in + unison to the pace of the horses. A tropilla of pack mules brought up the + rear in charge of a thin brown muleteer, sitting his long-eared beast very + near the tail, legs thrust far forward, the wide brim of his hat set far + back, making a sort of halo for his head. An old Costaguana officer, a + retired senior major of humble origin, but patronized by the first + families on account of his Blanco opinions, had been recommended by Don + Jose for commissary and organizer of that expedition. The points of his + grey moustache hung far below his chin, and, riding on Mrs. Gould’s left + hand, he looked about with kindly eyes, pointing out the features of the + country, telling the names of the little pueblos and of the estates, of + the smooth-walled haciendas like long fortresses crowning the knolls above + the level of the Sulaco Valley. It unrolled itself, with green young + crops, plains, woodland, and gleams of water, park-like, from the blue + vapour of the distant sierra to an immense quivering horizon of grass and + sky, where big white clouds seemed to fall slowly into the darkness of + their own shadows. + </p> + <p> + Men ploughed with wooden ploughs and yoked oxen, small on a boundless + expanse, as if attacking immensity itself. The mounted figures of vaqueros + galloped in the distance, and the great herds fed with all their horned + heads one way, in one single wavering line as far as eye could reach + across the broad potreros. A spreading cotton-wool tree shaded a thatched + ranche by the road; the trudging files of burdened Indians taking off + their hats, would lift sad, mute eyes to the cavalcade raising the dust of + the crumbling camino real made by the hands of their enslaved forefathers. + And Mrs. Gould, with each day’s journey, seemed to come nearer to the soul + of the land in the tremendous disclosure of this interior unaffected by + the slight European veneer of the coast towns, a great land of plain and + mountain and people, suffering and mute, waiting for the future in a + pathetic immobility of patience. + </p> + <p> + She knew its sights and its hospitality, dispensed with a sort of + slumbrous dignity in those great houses presenting long, blind walls and + heavy portals to the wind-swept pastures. She was given the head of the + tables, where masters and dependants sat in a simple and patriarchal + state. The ladies of the house would talk softly in the moonlight under + the orange trees of the courtyards, impressing upon her the sweetness of + their voices and the something mysterious in the quietude of their lives. + In the morning the gentlemen, well mounted in braided sombreros and + embroidered riding suits, with much silver on the trappings of their + horses, would ride forth to escort the departing guests before committing + them, with grave good-byes, to the care of God at the boundary pillars of + their estates. In all these households she could hear stories of political + outrage; friends, relatives, ruined, imprisoned, killed in the battles of + senseless civil wars, barbarously executed in ferocious proscriptions, as + though the government of the country had been a struggle of lust between + bands of absurd devils let loose upon the land with sabres and uniforms + and grandiloquent phrases. And on all the lips she found a weary desire + for peace, the dread of officialdom with its nightmarish parody of + administration without law, without security, and without justice. + </p> + <p> + She bore a whole two months of wandering very well; she had that power of + resistance to fatigue which one discovers here and there in some quite + frail-looking women with surprise—like a state of possession by a + remarkably stubborn spirit. Don Pepe—the old Costaguana major—after + much display of solicitude for the delicate lady, had ended by conferring + upon her the name of the “Never-tired Senora.” Mrs. Gould was indeed + becoming a Costaguanera. Having acquired in Southern Europe a knowledge of + true peasantry, she was able to appreciate the great worth of the people. + She saw the man under the silent, sad-eyed beast of burden. She saw them + on the road carrying loads, lonely figures upon the plain, toiling under + great straw hats, with their white clothing flapping about their limbs in + the wind; she remembered the villages by some group of Indian women at the + fountain impressed upon her memory, by the face of some young Indian girl + with a melancholy and sensual profile, raising an earthenware vessel of + cool water at the door of a dark hut with a wooden porch cumbered with + great brown jars. The solid wooden wheels of an ox-cart, halted with its + shafts in the dust, showed the strokes of the axe; and a party of charcoal + carriers, with each man’s load resting above his head on the top of the + low mud wall, slept stretched in a row within the strip of shade. + </p> + <p> + The heavy stonework of bridges and churches left by the conquerors + proclaimed the disregard of human labour, the tribute-labour of vanished + nations. The power of king and church was gone, but at the sight of some + heavy ruinous pile overtopping from a knoll the low mud walls of a + village, Don Pepe would interrupt the tale of his campaigns to exclaim— + </p> + <p> + “Poor Costaguana! Before, it was everything for the Padres, nothing for + the people; and now it is everything for those great politicos in Sta. + Marta, for negroes and thieves.” + </p> + <p> + Charles talked with the alcaldes, with the fiscales, with the principal + people in towns, and with the caballeros on the estates. The commandantes + of the districts offered him escorts—for he could show an + authorization from the Sulaco political chief of the day. How much the + document had cost him in gold twenty-dollar pieces was a secret between + himself, a great man in the United States (who condescended to answer the + Sulaco mail with his own hand), and a great man of another sort, with a + dark olive complexion and shifty eyes, inhabiting then the Palace of the + Intendencia in Sulaco, and who piqued himself on his culture and + Europeanism generally in a rather French style because he had lived in + Europe for some years—in exile, he said. However, it was pretty well + known that just before this exile he had incautiously gambled away all the + cash in the Custom House of a small port where a friend in power had + procured for him the post of subcollector. That youthful indiscretion had, + amongst other inconveniences, obliged him to earn his living for a time as + a cafe waiter in Madrid; but his talents must have been great, after all, + since they had enabled him to retrieve his political fortunes so + splendidly. Charles Gould, exposing his business with an imperturbable + steadiness, called him Excellency. + </p> + <p> + The provincial Excellency assumed a weary superiority, tilting his chair + far back near an open window in the true Costaguana manner. The military + band happened to be braying operatic selections on the plaza just then, + and twice he raised his hand imperatively for silence in order to listen + to a favourite passage. + </p> + <p> + “Exquisite, delicious!” he murmured; while Charles Gould waited, standing + by with inscrutable patience. “Lucia, Lucia di Lammermoor! I am passionate + for music. It transports me. Ha! the divine—ha!—Mozart. Si! + divine . . . What is it you were saying?” + </p> + <p> + Of course, rumours had reached him already of the newcomer’s intentions. + Besides, he had received an official warning from Sta. Marta. His manner + was intended simply to conceal his curiosity and impress his visitor. But + after he had locked up something valuable in the drawer of a large + writing-desk in a distant part of the room, he became very affable, and + walked back to his chair smartly. + </p> + <p> + “If you intend to build villages and assemble a population near the mine, + you shall require a decree of the Minister of the Interior for that,” he + suggested in a business-like manner. + </p> + <p> + “I have already sent a memorial,” said Charles Gould, steadily, “and I + reckon now confidently upon your Excellency’s favourable conclusions.” + </p> + <p> + The Excellency was a man of many moods. With the receipt of the money a + great mellowness had descended upon his simple soul. Unexpectedly he + fetched a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Don Carlos! What we want is advanced men like you in the province. + The lethargy—the lethargy of these aristocrats! The want of public + spirit! The absence of all enterprise! I, with my profound studies in + Europe, you understand—” + </p> + <p> + With one hand thrust into his swelling bosom, he rose and fell on his + toes, and for ten minutes, almost without drawing breath, went on hurling + himself intellectually to the assault of Charles Gould’s polite silence; + and when, stopping abruptly, he fell back into his chair, it was as though + he had been beaten off from a fortress. To save his dignity he hastened to + dismiss this silent man with a solemn inclination of the head and the + words, pronounced with moody, fatigued condescension— + </p> + <p> + “You may depend upon my enlightened goodwill as long as your conduct as a + good citizen deserves it.” + </p> + <p> + He took up a paper fan and began to cool himself with a consequential air, + while Charles Gould bowed and withdrew. Then he dropped the fan at once, + and stared with an appearance of wonder and perplexity at the closed door + for quite a long time. At last he shrugged his shoulders as if to assure + himself of his disdain. Cold, dull. No intellectuality. Red hair. A true + Englishman. He despised him. + </p> + <p> + His face darkened. What meant this unimpressed and frigid behaviour? He + was the first of the successive politicians sent out from the capital to + rule the Occidental Province whom the manner of Charles Gould in official + intercourse was to strike as offensively independent. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould assumed that if the appearance of listening to deplorable + balderdash must form part of the price he had to pay for being left + unmolested, the obligation of uttering balderdash personally was by no + means included in the bargain. He drew the line there. To these provincial + autocrats, before whom the peaceable population of all classes had been + accustomed to tremble, the reserve of that English-looking engineer caused + an uneasiness which swung to and fro between cringing and truculence. + Gradually all of them discovered that, no matter what party was in power, + that man remained in most effective touch with the higher authorities in + Sta. Marta. + </p> + <p> + This was a fact, and it accounted perfectly for the Goulds being by no + means so wealthy as the engineer-in-chief on the new railway could + legitimately suppose. Following the advice of Don Jose Avellanos, who was + a man of good counsel (though rendered timid by his horrible experiences + of Guzman Bento’s time), Charles Gould had kept clear of the capital; but + in the current gossip of the foreign residents there he was known (with a + good deal of seriousness underlying the irony) by the nickname of “King of + Sulaco.” An advocate of the Costaguana Bar, a man of reputed ability and + good character, member of the distinguished Moraga family possessing + extensive estates in the Sulaco Valley, was pointed out to strangers, with + a shade of mystery and respect, as the agent of the San Tome mine—“political, + you know.” He was tall, black-whiskered, and discreet. It was known that + he had easy access to ministers, and that the numerous Costaguana generals + were always anxious to dine at his house. Presidents granted him audience + with facility. He corresponded actively with his maternal uncle, Don Jose + Avellanos; but his letters—unless those expressing formally his + dutiful affection—were seldom entrusted to the Costaguana Post + Office. There the envelopes are opened, indiscriminately, with the + frankness of a brazen and childish impudence characteristic of some + Spanish-American Governments. But it must be noted that at about the time + of the re-opening of the San Tome mine the muleteer who had been employed + by Charles Gould in his preliminary travels on the Campo added his small + train of animals to the thin stream of traffic carried over the mountain + passes between the Sta. Marta upland and the Valley of Sulaco. There are + no travellers by that arduous and unsafe route unless under very + exceptional circumstances, and the state of inland trade did not visibly + require additional transport facilities; but the man seemed to find his + account in it. A few packages were always found for him whenever he took + the road. Very brown and wooden, in goatskin breeches with the hair + outside, he sat near the tail of his own smart mule, his great hat turned + against the sun, an expression of blissful vacancy on his long face, + humming day after day a love-song in a plaintive key, or, without a change + of expression, letting out a yell at his small tropilla in front. A round + little guitar hung high up on his back; and there was a place scooped out + artistically in the wood of one of his pack-saddles where a tightly rolled + piece of paper could be slipped in, the wooden plug replaced, and the + coarse canvas nailed on again. When in Sulaco it was his practice to smoke + and doze all day long (as though he had no care in the world) on a stone + bench outside the doorway of the Casa Gould and facing the windows of the + Avellanos house. Years and years ago his mother had been chief + laundry-woman in that family—very accomplished in the matter of + clear-starching. He himself had been born on one of their haciendas. His + name was Bonifacio, and Don Jose, crossing the street about five o’clock + to call on Dona Emilia, always acknowledged his humble salute by some + movement of hand or head. The porters of both houses conversed lazily with + him in tones of grave intimacy. His evenings he devoted to gambling and to + calls in a spirit of generous festivity upon the peyne d’oro girls in the + more remote side-streets of the town. But he, too, was a discreet man. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER EIGHT + </h2> + <p> + Those of us whom business or curiosity took to Sulaco in these years + before the first advent of the railway can remember the steadying effect + of the San Tome mine upon the life of that remote province. The outward + appearances had not changed then as they have changed since, as I am told, + with cable cars running along the streets of the Constitution, and + carriage roads far into the country, to Rincon and other villages, where + the foreign merchants and the Ricos generally have their modern villas, + and a vast railway goods yard by the harbour, which has a quay-side, a + long range of warehouses, and quite serious, organized labour troubles of + its own. + </p> + <p> + Nobody had ever heard of labour troubles then. The Cargadores of the port + formed, indeed, an unruly brotherhood of all sorts of scum, with a patron + saint of their own. They went on strike regularly (every bull-fight day), + a form of trouble that even Nostromo at the height of his prestige could + never cope with efficiently; but the morning after each fiesta, before the + Indian market-women had opened their mat parasols on the plaza, when the + snows of Higuerota gleamed pale over the town on a yet black sky, the + appearance of a phantom-like horseman mounted on a silver-grey mare solved + the problem of labour without fail. His steed paced the lanes of the slums + and the weed-grown enclosures within the old ramparts, between the black, + lightless cluster of huts, like cow-byres, like dog-kennels. The horseman + hammered with the butt of a heavy revolver at the doors of low pulperias, + of obscene lean-to sheds sloping against the tumble-down piece of a noble + wall, at the wooden sides of dwellings so flimsy that the sound of snores + and sleepy mutters within could be heard in the pauses of the thundering + clatter of his blows. He called out men’s names menacingly from the + saddle, once, twice. The drowsy answers—grumpy, conciliating, + savage, jocular, or deprecating—came out into the silent darkness in + which the horseman sat still, and presently a dark figure would flit out + coughing in the still air. Sometimes a low-toned woman cried through the + window-hole softly, “He’s coming directly, senor,” and the horseman waited + silent on a motionless horse. But if perchance he had to dismount, then, + after a while, from the door of that hovel or of that pulperia, with a + ferocious scuffle and stifled imprecations, a cargador would fly out head + first and hands abroad, to sprawl under the forelegs of the silver-grey + mare, who only pricked forward her sharp little ears. She was used to that + work; and the man, picking himself up, would walk away hastily from + Nostromo’s revolver, reeling a little along the street and snarling low + curses. At sunrise Captain Mitchell, coming out anxiously in his night + attire on to the wooden balcony running the whole length of the O.S.N. + Company’s lonely building by the shore, would see the lighters already + under way, figures moving busily about the cargo cranes, perhaps hear the + invaluable Nostromo, now dismounted and in the checked shirt and red sash + of a Mediterranean sailor, bawling orders from the end of the jetty in a + stentorian voice. A fellow in a thousand! + </p> + <p> + The material apparatus of perfected civilization which obliterates the + individuality of old towns under the stereotyped conveniences of modern + life had not intruded as yet; but over the worn-out antiquity of Sulaco, + so characteristic with its stuccoed houses and barred windows, with the + great yellowy-white walls of abandoned convents behind the rows of sombre + green cypresses, that fact—very modern in its spirit—the San + Tome mine had already thrown its subtle influence. It had altered, too, + the outward character of the crowds on feast days on the plaza before the + open portal of the cathedral, by the number of white ponchos with a green + stripe affected as holiday wear by the San Tome miners. They had also + adopted white hats with green cord and braid—articles of good + quality, which could be obtained in the storehouse of the administration + for very little money. A peaceable Cholo wearing these colours (unusual in + Costaguana) was somehow very seldom beaten to within an inch of his life + on a charge of disrespect to the town police; neither ran he much risk of + being suddenly lassoed on the road by a recruiting party of lanceros—a + method of voluntary enlistment looked upon as almost legal in the + Republic. Whole villages were known to have volunteered for the army in + that way; but, as Don Pepe would say with a hopeless shrug to Mrs. Gould, + “What would you! Poor people! Pobrecitos! Pobrecitos! But the State must + have its soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + Thus professionally spoke Don Pepe, the fighter, with pendent moustaches, + a nut-brown, lean face, and a clean run of a cast-iron jaw, suggesting the + type of a cattle-herd horseman from the great Llanos of the South. “If you + will listen to an old officer of Paez, senores,” was the exordium of all + his speeches in the Aristocratic Club of Sulaco, where he was admitted on + account of his past services to the extinct cause of Federation. The club, + dating from the days of the proclamation of Costaguana’s independence, + boasted many names of liberators amongst its first founders. Suppressed + arbitrarily innumerable times by various Governments, with memories of + proscriptions and of at least one wholesale massacre of its members, sadly + assembled for a banquet by the order of a zealous military commandante + (their bodies were afterwards stripped naked and flung into the plaza out + of the windows by the lowest scum of the populace), it was again + flourishing, at that period, peacefully. It extended to strangers the + large hospitality of the cool, big rooms of its historic quarters in the + front part of a house, once the residence of a high official of the Holy + Office. The two wings, shut up, crumbled behind the nailed doors, and what + may be described as a grove of young orange trees grown in the unpaved + patio concealed the utter ruin of the back part facing the gate. You + turned in from the street, as if entering a secluded orchard, where you + came upon the foot of a disjointed staircase, guarded by a moss-stained + effigy of some saintly bishop, mitred and staffed, and bearing the + indignity of a broken nose meekly, with his fine stone hands crossed on + his breast. The chocolate-coloured faces of servants with mops of black + hair peeped at you from above; the click of billiard balls came to your + ears, and ascending the steps, you would perhaps see in the first sala, + very stiff upon a straight-backed chair, in a good light, Don Pepe moving + his long moustaches as he spelt his way, at arm’s length, through an old + Sta. Marta newspaper. His horse—a stony-hearted but persevering + black brute with a hammer head—you would have seen in the street + dozing motionless under an immense saddle, with its nose almost touching + the curbstone of the sidewalk. + </p> + <p> + Don Pepe, when “down from the mountain,” as the phrase, often heard in + Sulaco, went, could also be seen in the drawing-room of the Casa Gould. He + sat with modest assurance at some distance from the tea-table. With his + knees close together, and a kindly twinkle of drollery in his deep-set + eyes, he would throw his small and ironic pleasantries into the current of + conversation. There was in that man a sort of sane, humorous shrewdness, + and a vein of genuine humanity so often found in simple old soldiers of + proved courage who have seen much desperate service. Of course he knew + nothing whatever of mining, but his employment was of a special kind. He + was in charge of the whole population in the territory of the mine, which + extended from the head of the gorge to where the cart track from the foot + of the mountain enters the plain, crossing a stream over a little wooden + bridge painted green—green, the colour of hope, being also the + colour of the mine. + </p> + <p> + It was reported in Sulaco that up there “at the mountain” Don Pepe walked + about precipitous paths, girt with a great sword and in a shabby uniform + with tarnished bullion epaulettes of a senior major. Most miners being + Indians, with big wild eyes, addressed him as Taita (father), as these + barefooted people of Costaguana will address anybody who wears shoes; but + it was Basilio, Mr. Gould’s own mozo and the head servant of the Casa, + who, in all good faith and from a sense of propriety, announced him once + in the solemn words, “El Senor Gobernador has arrived.” + </p> + <p> + Don Jose Avellanos, then in the drawing-room, was delighted beyond measure + at the aptness of the title, with which he greeted the old major + banteringly as soon as the latter’s soldierly figure appeared in the + doorway. Don Pepe only smiled in his long moustaches, as much as to say, + “You might have found a worse name for an old soldier.” + </p> + <p> + And El Senor Gobernador he had remained, with his small jokes upon his + function and upon his domain, where he affirmed with humorous exaggeration + to Mrs. Gould— + </p> + <p> + “No two stones could come together anywhere without the Gobernador hearing + the click, senora.” + </p> + <p> + And he would tap his ear with the tip of his forefinger knowingly. Even + when the number of the miners alone rose to over six hundred he seemed to + know each of them individually, all the innumerable Joses, Manuels, + Ignacios, from the villages <i>primero—segundo—or tercero</i> + (there were three mining villages) under his government. He could + distinguish them not only by their flat, joyless faces, which to Mrs. + Gould looked all alike, as if run into the same ancestral mould of + suffering and patience, but apparently also by the infinitely graduated + shades of reddish-brown, of blackish-brown, of coppery-brown backs, as the + two shifts, stripped to linen drawers and leather skull-caps, mingled + together with a confusion of naked limbs, of shouldered picks, swinging + lamps, in a great shuffle of sandalled feet on the open plateau before the + entrance of the main tunnel. It was a time of pause. The Indian boys + leaned idly against the long line of little cradle wagons standing empty; + the screeners and ore-breakers squatted on their heels smoking long + cigars; the great wooden shoots slanting over the edge of the tunnel + plateau were silent; and only the ceaseless, violent rush of water in the + open flumes could be heard, murmuring fiercely, with the splash and rumble + of revolving turbine-wheels, and the thudding march of the stamps pounding + to powder the treasure rock on the plateau below. The heads of gangs, + distinguished by brass medals hanging on their bare breasts, marshalled + their squads; and at last the mountain would swallow one-half of the + silent crowd, while the other half would move off in long files down the + zigzag paths leading to the bottom of the gorge. It was deep; and, far + below, a thread of vegetation winding between the blazing rock faces + resembled a slender green cord, in which three lumpy knots of banana + patches, palm-leaf roots, and shady trees marked the Village One, Village + Two, Village Three, housing the miners of the Gould Concession. + </p> + <p> + Whole families had been moving from the first towards the spot in the + Higuerota range, whence the rumour of work and safety had spread over the + pastoral Campo, forcing its way also, even as the waters of a high flood, + into the nooks and crannies of the distant blue walls of the Sierras. + Father first, in a pointed straw hat, then the mother with the bigger + children, generally also a diminutive donkey, all under burdens, except + the leader himself, or perhaps some grown girl, the pride of the family, + stepping barefooted and straight as an arrow, with braids of raven hair, a + thick, haughty profile, and no load to carry but the small guitar of the + country and a pair of soft leather sandals tied together on her back. At + the sight of such parties strung out on the cross trails between the + pastures, or camped by the side of the royal road, travellers on horseback + would remark to each other— + </p> + <p> + “More people going to the San Tome mine. We shall see others to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + And spurring on in the dusk they would discuss the great news of the + province, the news of the San Tome mine. A rich Englishman was going to + work it—and perhaps not an Englishman, Quien sabe! A foreigner with + much money. Oh, yes, it had begun. A party of men who had been to Sulaco + with a herd of black bulls for the next corrida had reported that from the + porch of the posada in Rincon, only a short league from the town, the + lights on the mountain were visible, twinkling above the trees. And there + was a woman seen riding a horse sideways, not in the chair seat, but upon + a sort of saddle, and a man’s hat on her head. She walked about, too, on + foot up the mountain paths. A woman engineer, it seemed she was. + </p> + <p> + “What an absurdity! Impossible, senor!” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Si! Si! Una Americana del Norte</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well! if your worship is informed. <i>Una Americana</i>; it need be + something of that sort.” + </p> + <p> + And they would laugh a little with astonishment and scorn, keeping a wary + eye on the shadows of the road, for one is liable to meet bad men when + travelling late on the Campo. + </p> + <p> + And it was not only the men that Don Pepe knew so well, but he seemed + able, with one attentive, thoughtful glance, to classify each woman, girl, + or growing youth of his domain. It was only the small fry that puzzled him + sometimes. He and the padre could be seen frequently side by side, + meditative and gazing across the street of a village at a lot of sedate + brown children, trying to sort them out, as it were, in low, consulting + tones, or else they would together put searching questions as to the + parentage of some small, staid urchin met wandering, naked and grave, + along the road with a cigar in his baby mouth, and perhaps his mother’s + rosary, purloined for purposes of ornamentation, hanging in a loop of + beads low down on his rotund little stomach. The spiritual and temporal + pastors of the mine flock were very good friends. With Dr. Monygham, the + medical pastor, who had accepted the charge from Mrs. Gould, and lived in + the hospital building, they were on not so intimate terms. But no one + could be on intimate terms with El Senor Doctor, who, with his twisted + shoulders, drooping head, sardonic mouth, and side-long bitter glance, was + mysterious and uncanny. The other two authorities worked in harmony. + Father Roman, dried-up, small, alert, wrinkled, with big round eyes, a + sharp chin, and a great snuff-taker, was an old campaigner, too; he had + shriven many simple souls on the battlefields of the Republic, kneeling by + the dying on hillsides, in the long grass, in the gloom of the forests, to + hear the last confession with the smell of gunpowder smoke in his + nostrils, the rattle of muskets, the hum and spatter of bullets in his + ears. And where was the harm if, at the presbytery, they had a game with a + pack of greasy cards in the early evening, before Don Pepe went his last + rounds to see that all the watchmen of the mine—a body organized by + himself—were at their posts? For that last duty before he slept Don + Pepe did actually gird his old sword on the verandah of an unmistakable + American white frame house, which Father Roman called the presbytery. Near + by, a long, low, dark building, steeple-roofed, like a vast barn with a + wooden cross over the gable, was the miners’ chapel. There Father Roman + said Mass every day before a sombre altar-piece representing the + Resurrection, the grey slab of the tombstone balanced on one corner, a + figure soaring upwards, long-limbed and livid, in an oval of pallid light, + and a helmeted brown legionary smitten down, right across the bituminous + foreground. “This picture, my children, <i>muy linda e maravillosa</i>,” + Father Roman would say to some of his flock, “which you behold here + through the munificence of the wife of our Senor Administrador, has been + painted in Europe, a country of saints and miracles, and much greater than + our Costaguana.” And he would take a pinch of snuff with unction. But when + once an inquisitive spirit desired to know in what direction this Europe + was situated, whether up or down the coast, Father Roman, to conceal his + perplexity, became very reserved and severe. “No doubt it is extremely far + away. But ignorant sinners like you of the San Tome mine should think + earnestly of everlasting punishment instead of inquiring into the + magnitude of the earth, with its countries and populations altogether + beyond your understanding.” + </p> + <p> + With a “Good-night, Padre,” “Good-night, Don Pepe,” the Gobernador would + go off, holding up his sabre against his side, his body bent forward, with + a long, plodding stride in the dark. The jocularity proper to an innocent + card game for a few cigars or a bundle of yerba was replaced at once by + the stern duty mood of an officer setting out to visit the outposts of an + encamped army. One loud blast of the whistle that hung from his neck + provoked instantly a great shrilling of responding whistles, mingled with + the barking of dogs, that would calm down slowly at last, away up at the + head of the gorge; and in the stillness two serenos, on guard by the + bridge, would appear walking noiselessly towards him. On one side of the + road a long frame building—the store—would be closed and + barricaded from end to end; facing it another white frame house, still + longer, and with a verandah—the hospital—would have lights in + the two windows of Dr. Monygham’s quarters. Even the delicate foliage of a + clump of pepper trees did not stir, so breathless would be the darkness + warmed by the radiation of the over-heated rocks. Don Pepe would stand + still for a moment with the two motionless serenos before him, and, + abruptly, high up on the sheer face of the mountain, dotted with single + torches, like drops of fire fallen from the two great blazing clusters of + lights above, the ore shoots would begin to rattle. The great clattering, + shuffling noise, gathering speed and weight, would be caught up by the + walls of the gorge, and sent upon the plain in a growl of thunder. The + pasadero in Rincon swore that on calm nights, by listening intently, he + could catch the sound in his doorway as of a storm in the mountains. + </p> + <p> + To Charles Gould’s fancy it seemed that the sound must reach the uttermost + limits of the province. Riding at night towards the mine, it would meet + him at the edge of a little wood just beyond Rincon. There was no + mistaking the growling mutter of the mountain pouring its stream of + treasure under the stamps; and it came to his heart with the peculiar + force of a proclamation thundered forth over the land and the + marvellousness of an accomplished fact fulfilling an audacious desire. He + had heard this very sound in his imagination on that far-off evening when + his wife and himself, after a tortuous ride through a strip of forest, had + reined in their horses near the stream, and had gazed for the first time + upon the jungle-grown solitude of the gorge. The head of a palm rose here + and there. In a high ravine round the corner of the San Tome mountain + (which is square like a blockhouse) the thread of a slender waterfall + flashed bright and glassy through the dark green of the heavy fronds of + tree-ferns. Don Pepe, in attendance, rode up, and, stretching his arm up + the gorge, had declared with mock solemnity, “Behold the very paradise of + snakes, senora.” + </p> + <p> + And then they had wheeled their horses and ridden back to sleep that night + at Rincon. The alcalde—an old, skinny Moreno, a sergeant of Guzman + Bento’s time—had cleared respectfully out of his house with his + three pretty daughters, to make room for the foreign senora and their + worships the Caballeros. All he asked Charles Gould (whom he took for a + mysterious and official person) to do for him was to remind the supreme + Government—El Gobierno supreme—of a pension (amounting to + about a dollar a month) to which he believed himself entitled. It had been + promised to him, he affirmed, straightening his bent back martially, “many + years ago, for my valour in the wars with the wild Indios when a young + man, senor.” + </p> + <p> + The waterfall existed no longer. The tree-ferns that had luxuriated in its + spray had died around the dried-up pool, and the high ravine was only a + big trench half filled up with the refuse of excavations and tailings. The + torrent, dammed up above, sent its water rushing along the open flumes of + scooped tree trunks striding on trestle-legs to the turbines working the + stamps on the lower plateau—the mesa grande of the San Tome + mountain. Only the memory of the waterfall, with its amazing fernery, like + a hanging garden above the rocks of the gorge, was preserved in Mrs. + Gould’s water-colour sketch; she had made it hastily one day from a + cleared patch in the bushes, sitting in the shade of a roof of straw + erected for her on three rough poles under Don Pepe’s direction. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould had seen it all from the beginning: the clearing of the + wilderness, the making of the road, the cutting of new paths up the cliff + face of San Tome. For weeks together she had lived on the spot with her + husband; and she was so little in Sulaco during that year that the + appearance of the Gould carriage on the Alameda would cause a social + excitement. From the heavy family coaches full of stately senoras and + black-eyed senoritas rolling solemnly in the shaded alley white hands were + waved towards her with animation in a flutter of greetings. Dona Emilia + was “down from the mountain.” + </p> + <p> + But not for long. Dona Emilia would be gone “up to the mountain” in a day + or two, and her sleek carriage mules would have an easy time of it for + another long spell. She had watched the erection of the first frame-house + put up on the lower mesa for an office and Don Pepe’s quarters; she heard + with a thrill of thankful emotion the first wagon load of ore rattle down + the then only shoot; she had stood by her husband’s side perfectly silent, + and gone cold all over with excitement at the instant when the first + battery of only fifteen stamps was put in motion for the first time. On + the occasion when the fires under the first set of retorts in their shed + had glowed far into the night she did not retire to rest on the rough + cadre set up for her in the as yet bare frame-house till she had seen the + first spongy lump of silver yielded to the hazards of the world by the + dark depths of the Gould Concession; she had laid her unmercenary hands, + with an eagerness that made them tremble, upon the first silver ingot + turned out still warm from the mould; and by her imaginative estimate of + its power she endowed that lump of metal with a justificative conception, + as though it were not a mere fact, but something far-reaching and + impalpable, like the true expression of an emotion or the emergence of a + principle. + </p> + <p> + Don Pepe, extremely interested, too, looked over her shoulder with a smile + that, making longitudinal folds on his face, caused it to resemble a + leathern mask with a benignantly diabolic expression. + </p> + <p> + “Would not the muchachos of Hernandez like to get hold of this + insignificant object, that looks, por Dios, very much like a piece of + tin?” he remarked, jocularly. + </p> + <p> + Hernandez, the robber, had been an inoffensive, small ranchero, kidnapped + with circumstances of peculiar atrocity from his home during one of the + civil wars, and forced to serve in the army. There his conduct as soldier + was exemplary, till, watching his chance, he killed his colonel, and + managed to get clear away. With a band of deserters, who chose him for + their chief, he had taken refuge beyond the wild and waterless Bolson de + Tonoro. The haciendas paid him blackmail in cattle and horses; + extraordinary stories were told of his powers and of his wonderful escapes + from capture. He used to ride, single-handed, into the villages and the + little towns on the Campo, driving a pack mule before him, with two + revolvers in his belt, go straight to the shop or store, select what he + wanted, and ride away unopposed because of the terror his exploits and his + audacity inspired. Poor country people he usually left alone; the upper + class were often stopped on the roads and robbed; but any unlucky official + that fell into his hands was sure to get a severe flogging. The army + officers did not like his name to be mentioned in their presence. His + followers, mounted on stolen horses, laughed at the pursuit of the regular + cavalry sent to hunt them down, and whom they took pleasure to ambush most + scientifically in the broken ground of their own fastness. Expeditions had + been fitted out; a price had been put upon his head; even attempts had + been made, treacherously of course, to open negotiations with him, without + in the slightest way affecting the even tenor of his career. At last, in + true Costaguana fashion, the Fiscal of Tonoro, who was ambitious of the + glory of having reduced the famous Hernandez, offered him a sum of money + and a safe conduct out of the country for the betrayal of his band. But + Hernandez evidently was not of the stuff of which the distinguished + military politicians and conspirators of Costaguana are made. This clever + but common device (which frequently works like a charm in putting down + revolutions) failed with the chief of vulgar Salteadores. It promised well + for the Fiscal at first, but ended very badly for the squadron of lanceros + posted (by the Fiscal’s directions) in a fold of the ground into which + Hernandez had promised to lead his unsuspecting followers They came, + indeed, at the appointed time, but creeping on their hands and knees + through the bush, and only let their presence be known by a general + discharge of firearms, which emptied many saddles. The troopers who + escaped came riding very hard into Tonoro. It is said that their + commanding officer (who, being better mounted, rode far ahead of the rest) + afterwards got into a state of despairing intoxication and beat the + ambitious Fiscal severely with the flat of his sabre in the presence of + his wife and daughters, for bringing this disgrace upon the National Army. + The highest civil official of Tonoro, falling to the ground in a swoon, + was further kicked all over the body and rowelled with sharp spurs about + the neck and face because of the great sensitiveness of his military + colleague. This gossip of the inland Campo, so characteristic of the + rulers of the country with its story of oppression, inefficiency, fatuous + methods, treachery, and savage brutality, was perfectly known to Mrs. + Gould. That it should be accepted with no indignant comment by people of + intelligence, refinement, and character as something inherent in the + nature of things was one of the symptoms of degradation that had the power + to exasperate her almost to the verge of despair. Still looking at the + ingot of silver, she shook her head at Don Pepe’s remark— + </p> + <p> + “If it had not been for the lawless tyranny of your Government, Don Pepe, + many an outlaw now with Hernandez would be living peaceably and happy by + the honest work of his hands.” + </p> + <p> + “Senora,” cried Don Pepe, with enthusiasm, “it is true! It is as if God + had given you the power to look into the very breasts of people. You have + seen them working round you, Dona Emilia—meek as lambs, patient like + their own burros, brave like lions. I have led them to the very muzzles of + guns—I, who stand here before you, senora—in the time of Paez, + who was full of generosity, and in courage only approached by the uncle of + Don Carlos here, as far as I know. No wonder there are bandits in the + Campo when there are none but thieves, swindlers, and sanguinary macaques + to rule us in Sta. Marta. However, all the same, a bandit is a bandit, and + we shall have a dozen good straight Winchesters to ride with the silver + down to Sulaco.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould’s ride with the first silver escort to Sulaco was the closing + episode of what she called “my camp life” before she had settled in her + town-house permanently, as was proper and even necessary for the wife of + the administrator of such an important institution as the San Tome mine. + For the San Tome mine was to become an institution, a rallying point for + everything in the province that needed order and stability to live. + Security seemed to flow upon this land from the mountain-gorge. The + authorities of Sulaco had learned that the San Tome mine could make it + worth their while to leave things and people alone. This was the nearest + approach to the rule of common-sense and justice Charles Gould felt it + possible to secure at first. In fact, the mine, with its organization, its + population growing fiercely attached to their position of privileged + safety, with its armoury, with its Don Pepe, with its armed body of + serenos (where, it was said, many an outlaw and deserter—and even + some members of Hernandez’s band—had found a place), the mine was a + power in the land. As a certain prominent man in Sta. Marta had exclaimed + with a hollow laugh, once, when discussing the line of action taken by the + Sulaco authorities at a time of political crisis— + </p> + <p> + “You call these men Government officials? They? Never! They are officials + of the mine—officials of the Concession—I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + The prominent man (who was then a person in power, with a lemon-coloured + face and a very short and curly, not to say woolly, head of hair) went so + far in his temporary discontent as to shake his yellow fist under the nose + of his interlocutor, and shriek— + </p> + <p> + “Yes! All! Silence! All! I tell you! The political Gefe, the chief of the + police, the chief of the customs, the general, all, all, are the officials + of that Gould.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon an intrepid but low and argumentative murmur would flow on for a + space in the ministerial cabinet, and the prominent man’s passion would + end in a cynical shrug of the shoulders. After all, he seemed to say, what + did it matter as long as the minister himself was not forgotten during his + brief day of authority? But all the same, the unofficial agent of the San + Tome mine, working for a good cause, had his moments of anxiety, which + were reflected in his letters to Don Jose Avellanos, his maternal uncle. + </p> + <p> + “No sanguinary macaque from Sta. Marta shall set foot on that part of + Costaguana which lies beyond the San Tome bridge,” Don Pepe used to assure + Mrs. Gould. “Except, of course, as an honoured guest—for our Senor + Administrador is a deep politico.” But to Charles Gould, in his own room, + the old Major would remark with a grim and soldierly cheeriness, “We are + all playing our heads at this game.” + </p> + <p> + Don Jose Avellanos would mutter “Imperium in imperio, Emilia, my soul,” + with an air of profound self-satisfaction which, somehow, in a curious + way, seemed to contain a queer admixture of bodily discomfort. But that, + perhaps, could only be visible to the initiated. And for the initiated it + was a wonderful place, this drawing-room of the Casa Gould, with its + momentary glimpses of the master—El Senor Administrador—older, + harder, mysteriously silent, with the lines deepened on his English, + ruddy, out-of-doors complexion; flitting on his thin cavalryman’s legs + across the doorways, either just “back from the mountain” or with jingling + spurs and riding-whip under his arm, on the point of starting “for the + mountain.” Then Don Pepe, modestly martial in his chair, the llanero who + seemed somehow to have found his martial jocularity, his knowledge of the + world, and his manner perfect for his station, in the midst of savage + armed contests with his kind; Avellanos, polished and familiar, the + diplomatist with his loquacity covering much caution and wisdom in + delicate advice, with his manuscript of a historical work on Costaguana, + entitled “Fifty Years of Misrule,” which, at present, he thought it was + not prudent (even if it were possible) “to give to the world”; these + three, and also Dona Emilia amongst them, gracious, small, and fairy-like, + before the glittering tea-set, with one common master-thought in their + heads, with one common feeling of a tense situation, with one ever-present + aim to preserve the inviolable character of the mine at every cost. And + there was also to be seen Captain Mitchell, a little apart, near one of + the long windows, with an air of old-fashioned neat old bachelorhood about + him, slightly pompous, in a white waistcoat, a little disregarded and + unconscious of it; utterly in the dark, and imagining himself to be in the + thick of things. The good man, having spent a clear thirty years of his + life on the high seas before getting what he called a “shore billet,” was + astonished at the importance of transactions (other than relating to + shipping) which take place on dry land. Almost every event out of the + usual daily course “marked an epoch” for him or else was “history”; unless + with his pomposity struggling with a discomfited droop of his rubicund, + rather handsome face, set off by snow-white close hair and short whiskers, + he would mutter— + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that! That, sir, was a mistake.” + </p> + <p> + The reception of the first consignment of San Tome silver for shipment to + San Francisco in one of the O.S.N. Co.‘s mail-boats had, of course, + “marked an epoch” for Captain Mitchell. The ingots packed in boxes of + stiff ox-hide with plaited handles, small enough to be carried easily by + two men, were brought down by the serenos of the mine walking in careful + couples along the half-mile or so of steep, zigzag paths to the foot of + the mountain. There they would be loaded into a string of two-wheeled + carts, resembling roomy coffers with a door at the back, and harnessed + tandem with two mules each, waiting under the guard of armed and mounted + serenos. Don Pepe padlocked each door in succession, and at the signal of + his whistle the string of carts would move off, closely surrounded by the + clank of spur and carbine, with jolts and cracking of whips, with a sudden + deep rumble over the boundary bridge (“into the land of thieves and + sanguinary macaques,” Don Pepe defined that crossing); hats bobbing in the + first light of the dawn, on the heads of cloaked figures; Winchesters on + hip; bridle hands protruding lean and brown from under the falling folds + of the ponchos. The convoy skirting a little wood, along the mine trail, + between the mud huts and low walls of Rincon, increased its pace on the + camino real, mules urged to speed, escort galloping, Don Carlos riding + alone ahead of a dust storm affording a vague vision of long ears of + mules, of fluttering little green and white flags stuck upon each cart; of + raised arms in a mob of sombreros with the white gleam of ranging eyes; + and Don Pepe, hardly visible in the rear of that rattling dust trail, with + a stiff seat and impassive face, rising and falling rhythmically on an + ewe-necked silver-bitted black brute with a hammer head. + </p> + <p> + The sleepy people in the little clusters of huts, in the small ranches + near the road, recognized by the headlong sound the charge of the San Tome + silver escort towards the crumbling wall of the city on the Campo side. + They came to the doors to see it dash by over ruts and stones, with a + clatter and clank and cracking of whips, with the reckless rush and + precise driving of a field battery hurrying into action, and the solitary + English figure of the Senor Administrador riding far ahead in the lead. + </p> + <p> + In the fenced roadside paddocks loose horses galloped wildly for a while; + the heavy cattle stood up breast deep in the grass, lowing mutteringly at + the flying noise; a meek Indian villager would glance back once and hasten + to shove his loaded little donkey bodily against a wall, out of the way of + the San Tome silver escort going to the sea; a small knot of chilly + leperos under the Stone Horse of the Alameda would mutter: “Caramba!” on + seeing it take a wide curve at a gallop and dart into the empty Street of + the Constitution; for it was considered the correct thing, the only proper + style by the mule-drivers of the San Tome mine to go through the waking + town from end to end without a check in the speed as if chased by a devil. + </p> + <p> + The early sunshine glowed on the delicate primrose, pale pink, pale blue + fronts of the big houses with all their gates shut yet, and no face behind + the iron bars of the windows. In the whole sunlit range of empty balconies + along the street only one white figure would be visible high up above the + clear pavement—the wife of the Senor Administrador—leaning + over to see the escort go by to the harbour, a mass of heavy, fair hair + twisted up negligently on her little head, and a lot of lace about the + neck of her muslin wrapper. With a smile to her husband’s single, quick, + upward glance, she would watch the whole thing stream past below her feet + with an orderly uproar, till she answered by a friendly sign the salute of + the galloping Don Pepe, the stiff, deferential inclination with a sweep of + the hat below the knee. + </p> + <p> + The string of padlocked carts lengthened, the size of the escort grew + bigger as the years went on. Every three months an increasing stream of + treasure swept through the streets of Sulaco on its way to the strong room + in the O.S.N. Co.‘s building by the harbour, there to await shipment for + the North. Increasing in volume, and of immense value also; for, as + Charles Gould told his wife once with some exultation, there had never + been seen anything in the world to approach the vein of the Gould + Concession. For them both, each passing of the escort under the balconies + of the Casa Gould was like another victory gained in the conquest of peace + for Sulaco. + </p> + <p> + No doubt the initial action of Charles Gould had been helped at the + beginning by a period of comparative peace which occurred just about that + time; and also by the general softening of manners as compared with the + epoch of civil wars whence had emerged the iron tyranny of Guzman Bento of + fearful memory. In the contests that broke out at the end of his rule + (which had kept peace in the country for a whole fifteen years) there was + more fatuous imbecility, plenty of cruelty and suffering still, but much + less of the old-time fierce and blindly ferocious political fanaticism. It + was all more vile, more base, more contemptible, and infinitely more + manageable in the very outspoken cynicism of motives. It was more clearly + a brazen-faced scramble for a constantly diminishing quantity of booty; + since all enterprise had been stupidly killed in the land. Thus it came to + pass that the province of Sulaco, once the field of cruel party + vengeances, had become in a way one of the considerable prizes of + political career. The great of the earth (in Sta. Marta) reserved the + posts in the old Occidental State to those nearest and dearest to them: + nephews, brothers, husbands of favourite sisters, bosom friends, trusty + supporters—or prominent supporters of whom perhaps they were afraid. + It was the blessed province of great opportunities and of largest + salaries; for the San Tome mine had its own unofficial pay list, whose + items and amounts, fixed in consultation by Charles Gould and Senor + Avellanos, were known to a prominent business man in the United States, + who for twenty minutes or so in every month gave his undivided attention + to Sulaco affairs. At the same time the material interests of all sorts, + backed up by the influence of the San Tome mine, were quietly gathering + substance in that part of the Republic. If, for instance, the Sulaco + Collectorship was generally understood, in the political world of the + capital, to open the way to the Ministry of Finance, and so on for every + official post, then, on the other hand, the despondent business circles of + the Republic had come to consider the Occidental Province as the promised + land of safety, especially if a man managed to get on good terms with the + administration of the mine. “Charles Gould; excellent fellow! Absolutely + necessary to make sure of him before taking a single step. Get an + introduction to him from Moraga if you can—the agent of the King of + Sulaco, don’t you know.” + </p> + <p> + No wonder, then, that Sir John, coming from Europe to smooth the path for + his railway, had been meeting the name (and even the nickname) of Charles + Gould at every turn in Costaguana. The agent of the San Tome + Administration in Sta. Marta (a polished, well-informed gentleman, Sir + John thought him) had certainly helped so greatly in bringing about the + presidential tour that he began to think that there was something in the + faint whispers hinting at the immense occult influence of the Gould + Concession. What was currently whispered was this—that the San Tome + Administration had, in part, at least, financed the last revolution, which + had brought into a five-year dictatorship Don Vincente Ribiera, a man of + culture and of unblemished character, invested with a mandate of reform by + the best elements of the State. Serious, well-informed men seemed to + believe the fact, to hope for better things, for the establishment of + legality, of good faith and order in public life. So much the better, + then, thought Sir John. He worked always on a great scale; there was a + loan to the State, and a project for systematic colonization of the + Occidental Province, involved in one vast scheme with the construction of + the National Central Railway. Good faith, order, honesty, peace, were + badly wanted for this great development of material interests. Anybody on + the side of these things, and especially if able to help, had an + importance in Sir John’s eyes. He had not been disappointed in the “King + of Sulaco.” The local difficulties had fallen away, as the + engineer-in-chief had foretold they would, before Charles Gould’s + mediation. Sir John had been extremely feted in Sulaco, next to the + President-Dictator, a fact which might have accounted for the evident + ill-humour General Montero displayed at lunch given on board the Juno just + before she was to sail, taking away from Sulaco the President-Dictator and + the distinguished foreign guests in his train. + </p> + <p> + The Excellentissimo (“the hope of honest men,” as Don Jose had addressed + him in a public speech delivered in the name of the Provincial Assembly of + Sulaco) sat at the head of the long table; Captain Mitchell, positively + stony-eyed and purple in the face with the solemnity of this “historical + event,” occupied the foot as the representative of the O.S.N. Company in + Sulaco, the hosts of that informal function, with the captain of the ship + and some minor officials from the shore around him. Those cheery, swarthy + little gentlemen cast jovial side-glances at the bottles of champagne + beginning to pop behind the guests’ backs in the hands of the ship’s + stewards. The amber wine creamed up to the rims of the glasses. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould had his place next to a foreign envoy, who, in a listless + undertone, had been talking to him fitfully of hunting and shooting. The + well-nourished, pale face, with an eyeglass and drooping yellow moustache, + made the Senor Administrador appear by contrast twice as sunbaked, more + flaming red, a hundred times more intensely and silently alive. Don Jose + Avellanos touched elbows with the other foreign diplomat, a dark man with + a quiet, watchful, self-confident demeanour, and a touch of reserve. All + etiquette being laid aside on the occasion, General Montero was the only + one there in full uniform, so stiff with embroideries in front that his + broad chest seemed protected by a cuirass of gold. Sir John at the + beginning had got away from high places for the sake of sitting near Mrs. + Gould. + </p> + <p> + The great financier was trying to express to her his grateful sense of her + hospitality and of his obligation to her husband’s “enormous influence in + this part of the country,” when she interrupted him by a low “Hush!” The + President was going to make an informal pronouncement. + </p> + <p> + The Excellentissimo was on his legs. He said only a few words, evidently + deeply felt, and meant perhaps mostly for Avellanos—his old friend—as + to the necessity of unremitting effort to secure the lasting welfare of + the country emerging after this last struggle, he hoped, into a period of + peace and material prosperity. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould, listening to the mellow, slightly mournful voice, looking at + this rotund, dark, spectacled face, at the short body, obese to the point + of infirmity, thought that this man of delicate and melancholy mind, + physically almost a cripple, coming out of his retirement into a dangerous + strife at the call of his fellows, had the right to speak with the + authority of his self-sacrifice. And yet she was made uneasy. He was more + pathetic than promising, this first civilian Chief of the State Costaguana + had ever known, pronouncing, glass in hand, his simple watchwords of + honesty, peace, respect for law, political good faith abroad and at home—the + safeguards of national honour. + </p> + <p> + He sat down. During the respectful, appreciative buzz of voices that + followed the speech, General Montero raised a pair of heavy, drooping + eyelids and rolled his eyes with a sort of uneasy dullness from face to + face. The military backwoods hero of the party, though secretly impressed + by the sudden novelties and splendours of his position (he had never been + on board a ship before, and had hardly ever seen the sea except from a + distance), understood by a sort of instinct the advantage his surly, + unpolished attitude of a savage fighter gave him amongst all these refined + Blanco aristocrats. But why was it that nobody was looking at him? he + wondered to himself angrily. He was able to spell out the print of + newspapers, and knew that he had performed the “greatest military exploit + of modern times.” + </p> + <p> + “My husband wanted the railway,” Mrs. Gould said to Sir John in the + general murmur of resumed conversations. “All this brings nearer the sort + of future we desire for the country, which has waited for it in sorrow + long enough, God knows. But I will confess that the other day, during my + afternoon drive when I suddenly saw an Indian boy ride out of a wood with + the red flag of a surveying party in his hand, I felt something of a + shock. The future means change—an utter change. And yet even here + there are simple and picturesque things that one would like to preserve.” + </p> + <p> + Sir John listened, smiling. But it was his turn now to hush Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “General Montero is going to speak,” he whispered, and almost immediately + added, in comic alarm, “Heavens! he’s going to propose my own health, I + believe.” + </p> + <p> + General Montero had risen with a jingle of steel scabbard and a ripple of + glitter on his gold-embroidered breast; a heavy sword-hilt appeared at his + side above the edge of the table. In this gorgeous uniform, with his bull + neck, his hooked nose flattened on the tip upon a blue-black, dyed + moustache, he looked like a disguised and sinister vaquero. The drone of + his voice had a strangely rasping, soulless ring. He floundered, lowering, + through a few vague sentences; then suddenly raising his big head and his + voice together, burst out harshly— + </p> + <p> + “The honour of the country is in the hands of the army. I assure you I + shall be faithful to it.” He hesitated till his roaming eyes met Sir + John’s face upon which he fixed a lurid, sleepy glance; and the figure of + the lately negotiated loan came into his mind. He lifted his glass. “I + drink to the health of the man who brings us a million and a half of + pounds.” + </p> + <p> + He tossed off his champagne, and sat down heavily with a half-surprised, + half-bullying look all round the faces in the profound, as if appalled, + silence which succeeded the felicitous toast. Sir John did not move. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think I am called upon to rise,” he murmured to Mrs. Gould. “That + sort of thing speaks for itself.” But Don Jose Avellanos came to the + rescue with a short oration, in which he alluded pointedly to England’s + goodwill towards Costaguana—“a goodwill,” he continued, + significantly, “of which I, having been in my time accredited to the Court + of St. James, am able to speak with some knowledge.” + </p> + <p> + Only then Sir John thought fit to respond, which he did gracefully in bad + French, punctuated by bursts of applause and the “Hear! Hears!” of Captain + Mitchell, who was able to understand a word now and then. Directly he had + done, the financier of railways turned to Mrs. Gould— + </p> + <p> + “You were good enough to say that you intended to ask me for something,” + he reminded her, gallantly. “What is it? Be assured that any request from + you would be considered in the light of a favour to myself.” + </p> + <p> + She thanked him by a gracious smile. Everybody was rising from the table. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go on deck,” she proposed, “where I’ll be able to point out to you + the very object of my request.” + </p> + <p> + An enormous national flag of Costaguana, diagonal red and yellow, with two + green palm trees in the middle, floated lazily at the mainmast head of the + Juno. A multitude of fireworks being let off in their thousands at the + water’s edge in honour of the President kept up a mysterious crepitating + noise half round the harbour. Now and then a lot of rockets, swishing + upwards invisibly, detonated overhead with only a puff of smoke in the + bright sky. Crowds of people could be seen between the town gate and the + harbour, under the bunches of multicoloured flags fluttering on tall + poles. Faint bursts of military music would be heard suddenly, and the + remote sound of shouting. A knot of ragged negroes at the end of the wharf + kept on loading and firing a small iron cannon time after time. A greyish + haze of dust hung thin and motionless against the sun. + </p> + <p> + Don Vincente Ribiera made a few steps under the deck-awning, leaning on + the arm of Senor Avellanos; a wide circle was formed round him, where the + mirthless smile of his dark lips and the sightless glitter of his + spectacles could be seen turning amiably from side to side. The informal + function arranged on purpose on board the Juno to give the + President-Dictator an opportunity to meet intimately some of his most + notable adherents in Sulaco was drawing to an end. On one side, General + Montero, his bald head covered now by a plumed cocked hat, remained + motionless on a skylight seat, a pair of big gauntleted hands folded on + the hilt of the sabre standing upright between his legs. The white plume, + the coppery tint of his broad face, the blue-black of the moustaches under + the curved beak, the mass of gold on sleeves and breast, the high shining + boots with enormous spurs, the working nostrils, the imbecile and + domineering stare of the glorious victor of Rio Seco had in them something + ominous and incredible; the exaggeration of a cruel caricature, the + fatuity of solemn masquerading, the atrocious grotesqueness of some + military idol of Aztec conception and European bedecking, awaiting the + homage of worshippers. Don Jose approached diplomatically this weird and + inscrutable portent, and Mrs. Gould turned her fascinated eyes away at + last. + </p> + <p> + Charles, coming up to take leave of Sir John, heard him say, as he bent + over his wife’s hand, “Certainly. Of course, my dear Mrs. Gould, for a + protege of yours! Not the slightest difficulty. Consider it done.” + </p> + <p> + Going ashore in the same boat with the Goulds, Don Jose Avellanos was very + silent. Even in the Gould carriage he did not open his lips for a long + time. The mules trotted slowly away from the wharf between the extended + hands of the beggars, who for that day seemed to have abandoned in a body + the portals of churches. Charles Gould sat on the back seat and looked + away upon the plain. A multitude of booths made of green boughs, of + rushes, of odd pieces of plank eked out with bits of canvas had been + erected all over it for the sale of cana, of dulces, of fruit, of cigars. + Over little heaps of glowing charcoal Indian women, squatting on mats, + cooked food in black earthen pots, and boiled the water for the mate + gourds, which they offered in soft, caressing voices to the country + people. A racecourse had been staked out for the vaqueros; and away to the + left, from where the crowd was massed thickly about a huge temporary + erection, like a circus tent of wood with a conical grass roof, came the + resonant twanging of harp strings, the sharp ping of guitars, with the + grave drumming throb of an Indian gombo pulsating steadily through the + shrill choruses of the dancers. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould said presently— + </p> + <p> + “All this piece of land belongs now to the Railway Company. There will be + no more popular feasts held here.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould was rather sorry to think so. She took this opportunity to + mention how she had just obtained from Sir John the promise that the house + occupied by Giorgio Viola should not be interfered with. She declared she + could never understand why the survey engineers ever talked of demolishing + that old building. It was not in the way of the projected harbour branch + of the line in the least. + </p> + <p> + She stopped the carriage before the door to reassure at once the old + Genoese, who came out bare-headed and stood by the carriage step. She + talked to him in Italian, of course, and he thanked her with calm dignity. + An old Garibaldino was grateful to her from the bottom of his heart for + keeping the roof over the heads of his wife and children. He was too old + to wander any more. + </p> + <p> + “And is it for ever, signora?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “For as long as you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Bene. Then the place must be named, It was not worth while before.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled ruggedly, with a running together of wrinkles at the corners of + his eyes. “I shall set about the painting of the name to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is it going to be, Giorgio?” + </p> + <p> + “Albergo d’Italia Una,” said the old Garibaldino, looking away for a + moment. “More in memory of those who have died,” he added, “than for the + country stolen from us soldiers of liberty by the craft of that accursed + Piedmontese race of kings and ministers.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould smiled slightly, and, bending over a little, began to inquire + about his wife and children. He had sent them into town on that day. The + padrona was better in health; many thanks to the signora for inquiring. + </p> + <p> + People were passing in twos and threes, in whole parties of men and women + attended by trotting children. A horseman mounted on a silver-grey mare + drew rein quietly in the shade of the house after taking off his hat to + the party in the carriage, who returned smiles and familiar nods. Old + Viola, evidently very pleased with the news he had just heard, interrupted + himself for a moment to tell him rapidly that the house was secured, by + the kindness of the English signora, for as long as he liked to keep it. + The other listened attentively, but made no response. + </p> + <p> + When the carriage moved on he took off his hat again, a grey sombrero with + a silver cord and tassels. The bright colours of a Mexican serape twisted + on the cantle, the enormous silver buttons on the embroidered leather + jacket, the row of tiny silver buttons down the seam of the trousers, the + snowy linen, a silk sash with embroidered ends, the silver plates on + headstall and saddle, proclaimed the unapproachable style of the famous + Capataz de Cargadores—a Mediterranean sailor—got up with more + finished splendour than any well-to-do young ranchero of the Campo had + ever displayed on a high holiday. + </p> + <p> + “It is a great thing for me,” murmured old Giorgio, still thinking of the + house, for now he had grown weary of change. “The signora just said a word + to the Englishman.” + </p> + <p> + “The old Englishman who has enough money to pay for a railway? He is going + off in an hour,” remarked Nostromo, carelessly. “<i>Buon viaggio</i>, + then. I’ve guarded his bones all the way from the Entrada pass down to the + plain and into Sulaco, as though he had been my own father.” + </p> + <p> + Old Giorgio only moved his head sideways absently. Nostromo pointed after + the Goulds’ carriage, nearing the grass-grown gate in the old town wall + that was like a wall of matted jungle. + </p> + <p> + “And I have sat alone at night with my revolver in the Company’s warehouse + time and again by the side of that other Englishman’s heap of silver, + guarding it as though it had been my own.” + </p> + <p> + Viola seemed lost in thought. “It is a great thing for me,” he repeated + again, as if to himself. + </p> + <p> + “It is,” agreed the magnificent Capataz de Cargadores, calmly. “Listen, + Vecchio—go in and bring me, out a cigar, but don’t look for it in my + room. There’s nothing there.” + </p> + <p> + Viola stepped into the cafe and came out directly, still absorbed in his + idea, and tendered him a cigar, mumbling thoughtfully in his moustache, + “Children growing up—and girls, too! Girls!” He sighed and fell + silent. + </p> + <p> + “What, only one?” remarked Nostromo, looking down with a sort of comic + inquisitiveness at the unconscious old man. “No matter,” he added, with + lofty negligence; “one is enough till another is wanted.” + </p> + <p> + He lit it and let the match drop from his passive fingers. Giorgio Viola + looked up, and said abruptly— + </p> + <p> + “My son would have been just such a fine young man as you, Gian’ Battista, + if he had lived.” + </p> + <p> + “What? Your son? But you are right, padrone. If he had been like me he + would have been a man.” + </p> + <p> + He turned his horse slowly, and paced on between the booths, checking the + mare almost to a standstill now and then for children, for the groups of + people from the distant Campo, who stared after him with admiration. The + Company’s lightermen saluted him from afar; and the greatly envied Capataz + de Cargadores advanced, amongst murmurs of recognition and obsequious + greetings, towards the huge circus-like erection. The throng thickened; + the guitars tinkled louder; other horsemen sat motionless, smoking calmly + above the heads of the crowd; it eddied and pushed before the doors of the + high-roofed building, whence issued a shuffle and thumping of feet in time + to the dance music vibrating and shrieking with a racking rhythm, overhung + by the tremendous, sustained, hollow roar of the gombo. The barbarous and + imposing noise of the big drum, that can madden a crowd, and that even + Europeans cannot hear without a strange emotion, seemed to draw Nostromo + on to its source, while a man, wrapped up in a faded, torn poncho, walked + by his stirrup, and, buffeted right and left, begged “his worship” + insistently for employment on the wharf. He whined, offering the Senor + Capataz half his daily pay for the privilege of being admitted to the + swaggering fraternity of Cargadores; the other half would be enough for + him, he protested. But Captain Mitchell’s right-hand man—“invaluable + for our work—a perfectly incorruptible fellow”—after looking + down critically at the ragged mozo, shook his head without a word in the + uproar going on around. + </p> + <p> + The man fell back; and a little further on Nostromo had to pull up. From + the doors of the dance hall men and women emerged tottering, streaming + with sweat, trembling in every limb, to lean, panting, with staring eyes + and parted lips, against the wall of the structure, where the harps and + guitars played on with mad speed in an incessant roll of thunder. Hundreds + of hands clapped in there; voices shrieked, and then all at once would + sink low, chanting in unison the refrain of a love song, with a dying + fall. A red flower, flung with a good aim from somewhere in the crowd, + struck the resplendent Capataz on the cheek. + </p> + <p> + He caught it as it fell, neatly, but for some time did not turn his head. + When at last he condescended to look round, the throng near him had parted + to make way for a pretty Morenita, her hair held up by a small golden + comb, who was walking towards him in the open space. + </p> + <p> + Her arms and neck emerged plump and bare from a snowy chemisette; the blue + woollen skirt, with all the fullness gathered in front, scanty on the hips + and tight across the back, disclosed the provoking action of her walk. She + came straight on and laid her hand on the mare’s neck with a timid, + coquettish look upwards out of the corner of her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Querido</i>,” she murmured, caressingly, “why do you pretend not to + see me when I pass?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I don’t love thee any more,” said Nostromo, deliberately, after a + moment of reflective silence. + </p> + <p> + The hand on the mare’s neck trembled suddenly. She dropped her head before + all the eyes in the wide circle formed round the generous, the terrible, + the inconstant Capataz de Cargadores, and his Morenita. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo, looking down, saw tears beginning to fall down her face. + </p> + <p> + “Has it come, then, ever beloved of my heart?” she whispered. “Is it + true?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Nostromo, looking away carelessly. “It was a lie. I love thee + as much as ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that true?” she cooed, joyously, her cheeks still wet with tears. + </p> + <p> + “It is true.” + </p> + <p> + “True on the life?” + </p> + <p> + “As true as that; but thou must not ask me to swear it on the Madonna that + stands in thy room.” And the Capataz laughed a little in response to the + grins of the crowd. + </p> + <p> + She pouted—very pretty—a little uneasy. + </p> + <p> + “No, I will not ask for that. I can see love in your eyes.” She laid her + hand on his knee. “Why are you trembling like this? From love?” she + continued, while the cavernous thundering of the gombo went on without a + pause. “But if you love her as much as that, you must give your Paquita a + gold-mounted rosary of beads for the neck of her Madonna.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Nostromo, looking into her uplifted, begging eyes, which + suddenly turned stony with surprise. + </p> + <p> + “No? Then what else will your worship give me on the day of the fiesta?” + she asked, angrily; “so as not to shame me before all these people.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no shame for thee in getting nothing from thy lover for once.” + </p> + <p> + “True! The shame is your worship’s—my poor lover’s,” she flared up, + sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + Laughs were heard at her anger, at her retort. What an audacious spitfire + she was! The people aware of this scene were calling out urgently to + others in the crowd. The circle round the silver-grey mare narrowed + slowly. + </p> + <p> + The girl went off a pace or two, confronting the mocking curiosity of the + eyes, then flung back to the stirrup, tiptoeing, her enraged face turned + up to Nostromo with a pair of blazing eyes. He bent low to her in the + saddle. + </p> + <p> + “Juan,” she hissed, “I could stab thee to the heart!” + </p> + <p> + The dreaded Capataz de Cargadores, magnificent and carelessly public in + his amours, flung his arm round her neck and kissed her spluttering lips. + A murmur went round. + </p> + <p> + “A knife!” he demanded at large, holding her firmly by the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Twenty blades flashed out together in the circle. A young man in holiday + attire, bounding in, thrust one in Nostromo’s hand and bounded back into + the ranks, very proud of himself. Nostromo had not even looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “Stand on my foot,” he commanded the girl, who, suddenly subdued, rose + lightly, and when he had her up, encircling her waist, her face near to + his, he pressed the knife into her little hand. + </p> + <p> + “No, Morenita! You shall not put me to shame,” he said. “You shall have + your present; and so that everyone should know who is your lover to-day, + you may cut all the silver buttons off my coat.” + </p> + <p> + There were shouts of laughter and applause at this witty freak, while the + girl passed the keen blade, and the impassive rider jingled in his palm + the increasing hoard of silver buttons. He eased her to the ground with + both her hands full. After whispering for a while with a very strenuous + face, she walked away, staring haughtily, and vanished into the crowd. + </p> + <p> + The circle had broken up, and the lordly Capataz de Cargadores, the + indispensable man, the tried and trusty Nostromo, the Mediterranean sailor + come ashore casually to try his luck in Costaguana, rode slowly towards + the harbour. The Juno was just then swinging round; and even as Nostromo + reined up again to look on, a flag ran up on the improvised flagstaff + erected in an ancient and dismantled little fort at the harbour entrance. + Half a battery of field guns had been hurried over there from the Sulaco + barracks for the purpose of firing the regulation salutes for the + President-Dictator and the War Minister. As the mail-boat headed through + the pass, the badly timed reports announced the end of Don Vincente + Ribiera’s first official visit to Sulaco, and for Captain Mitchell the end + of another “historic occasion.” Next time when the “Hope of honest men” + was to come that way, a year and a half later, it was unofficially, over + the mountain tracks, fleeing after a defeat on a lame mule, to be only + just saved by Nostromo from an ignominious death at the hands of a mob. It + was a very different event, of which Captain Mitchell used to say— + </p> + <p> + “It was history—history, sir! And that fellow of mine, Nostromo, you + know, was right in it. Absolutely making history, sir.” + </p> + <p> + But this event, creditable to Nostromo, was to lead immediately to + another, which could not be classed either as “history” or as “a mistake” + in Captain Mitchell’s phraseology. He had another word for it. + </p> + <p> + “Sir” he used to say afterwards, “that was no mistake. It was a fatality. + A misfortune, pure and simple, sir. And that poor fellow of mine was right + in it—right in the middle of it! A fatality, if ever there was one—and + to my mind he has never been the same man since.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART SECOND THE ISABELS + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER ONE + </h2> + <p> + Through good and evil report in the varying fortune of that struggle which + Don Jose had characterized in the phrase, “the fate of national honesty + trembles in the balance,” the Gould Concession, “Imperium in Imperio,” had + gone on working; the square mountain had gone on pouring its treasure down + the wooden shoots to the unresting batteries of stamps; the lights of San + Tome had twinkled night after night upon the great, limitless shadow of + the Campo; every three months the silver escort had gone down to the sea + as if neither the war nor its consequences could ever affect the ancient + Occidental State secluded beyond its high barrier of the Cordillera. All + the fighting took place on the other side of that mighty wall of serrated + peaks lorded over by the white dome of Higuerota and as yet unbreached by + the railway, of which only the first part, the easy Campo part from Sulaco + to the Ivie Valley at the foot of the pass, had been laid. Neither did the + telegraph line cross the mountains yet; its poles, like slender beacons on + the plain, penetrated into the forest fringe of the foot-hills cut by the + deep avenue of the track; and its wire ended abruptly in the construction + camp at a white deal table supporting a Morse apparatus, in a long hut of + planks with a corrugated iron roof overshadowed by gigantic cedar trees—the + quarters of the engineer in charge of the advance section. + </p> + <p> + The harbour was busy, too, with the traffic in railway material, and with + the movements of troops along the coast. The O.S.N. Company found much + occupation for its fleet. Costaguana had no navy, and, apart from a few + coastguard cutters, there were no national ships except a couple of old + merchant steamers used as transports. + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell, feeling more and more in the thick of history, found + time for an hour or so during an afternoon in the drawing-room of the Casa + Gould, where, with a strange ignorance of the real forces at work around + him, he professed himself delighted to get away from the strain of + affairs. He did not know what he would have done without his invaluable + Nostromo, he declared. Those confounded Costaguana politics gave him more + work—he confided to Mrs. Gould—than he had bargained for. + </p> + <p> + Don Jose Avellanos had displayed in the service of the endangered Ribiera + Government an organizing activity and an eloquence of which the echoes + reached even Europe. For, after the new loan to the Ribiera Government, + Europe had become interested in Costaguana. The Sala of the Provincial + Assembly (in the Municipal Buildings of Sulaco), with its portraits of the + Liberators on the walls and an old flag of Cortez preserved in a glass + case above the President’s chair, had heard all these speeches—the + early one containing the impassioned declaration “Militarism is the + enemy,” the famous one of the “trembling balance” delivered on the + occasion of the vote for the raising of a second Sulaco regiment in the + defence of the reforming Government; and when the provinces again + displayed their old flags (proscribed in Guzman Bento’s time) there was + another of those great orations, when Don Jose greeted these old emblems + of the war of Independence, brought out again in the name of new Ideals. + The old idea of Federalism had disappeared. For his part he did not wish + to revive old political doctrines. They were perishable. They died. But + the doctrine of political rectitude was immortal. The second Sulaco + regiment, to whom he was presenting this flag, was going to show its + valour in a contest for order, peace, progress; for the establishment of + national self-respect without which—he declared with energy—“we + are a reproach and a byword amongst the powers of the world.” + </p> + <p> + Don Jose Avellanos loved his country. He had served it lavishly with his + fortune during his diplomatic career, and the later story of his captivity + and barbarous ill-usage under Guzman Bento was well known to his + listeners. It was a wonder that he had not been a victim of the ferocious + and summary executions which marked the course of that tyranny; for Guzman + had ruled the country with the sombre imbecility of political fanaticism. + The power of Supreme Government had become in his dull mind an object of + strange worship, as if it were some sort of cruel deity. It was incarnated + in himself, and his adversaries, the Federalists, were the supreme + sinners, objects of hate, abhorrence, and fear, as heretics would be to a + convinced Inquisitor. For years he had carried about at the tail of the + Army of Pacification, all over the country, a captive band of such + atrocious criminals, who considered themselves most unfortunate at not + having been summarily executed. It was a diminishing company of nearly + naked skeletons, loaded with irons, covered with dirt, with vermin, with + raw wounds, all men of position, of education, of wealth, who had learned + to fight amongst themselves for scraps of rotten beef thrown to them by + soldiers, or to beg a negro cook for a drink of muddy water in pitiful + accents. Don Jose Avellanos, clanking his chains amongst the others, + seemed only to exist in order to prove how much hunger, pain, degradation, + and cruel torture a human body can stand without parting with the last + spark of life. Sometimes interrogatories, backed by some primitive method + of torture, were administered to them by a commission of officers hastily + assembled in a hut of sticks and branches, and made pitiless by the fear + for their own lives. A lucky one or two of that spectral company of + prisoners would perhaps be led tottering behind a bush to be shot by a + file of soldiers. Always an army chaplain—some unshaven, dirty man, + girt with a sword and with a tiny cross embroidered in white cotton on the + left breast of a lieutenant’s uniform—would follow, cigarette in the + corner of the mouth, wooden stool in hand, to hear the confession and give + absolution; for the Citizen Saviour of the Country (Guzman Bento was + called thus officially in petitions) was not averse from the exercise of + rational clemency. The irregular report of the firing squad would be + heard, followed sometimes by a single finishing shot; a little bluish + cloud of smoke would float up above the green bushes, and the Army of + Pacification would move on over the savannas, through the forests, + crossing rivers, invading rural pueblos, devastating the haciendas of the + horrid aristocrats, occupying the inland towns in the fulfilment of its + patriotic mission, and leaving behind a united land wherein the evil taint + of Federalism could no longer be detected in the smoke of burning houses + and the smell of spilt blood. Don Jose Avellanos had survived that time. + Perhaps, when contemptuously signifying to him his release, the Citizen + Saviour of the Country might have thought this benighted aristocrat too + broken in health and spirit and fortune to be any longer dangerous. Or, + perhaps, it may have been a simple caprice. Guzman Bento, usually full of + fanciful fears and brooding suspicions, had sudden accesses of + unreasonable self-confidence when he perceived himself elevated on a + pinnacle of power and safety beyond the reach of mere mortal plotters. At + such times he would impulsively command the celebration of a solemn Mass + of thanksgiving, which would be sung in great pomp in the cathedral of + Sta. Marta by the trembling, subservient Archbishop of his creation. He + heard it sitting in a gilt armchair placed before the high altar, + surrounded by the civil and military heads of his Government. The + unofficial world of Sta. Marta would crowd into the cathedral, for it was + not quite safe for anybody of mark to stay away from these manifestations + of presidential piety. Having thus acknowledged the only power he was at + all disposed to recognize as above himself, he would scatter acts of + political grace in a sardonic wantonness of clemency. There was no other + way left now to enjoy his power but by seeing his crushed adversaries + crawl impotently into the light of day out of the dark, noisome cells of + the Collegio. Their harmlessness fed his insatiable vanity, and they could + always be got hold of again. It was the rule for all the women of their + families to present thanks afterwards in a special audience. The + incarnation of that strange god, El Gobierno Supremo, received them + standing, cocked hat on head, and exhorted them in a menacing mutter to + show their gratitude by bringing up their children in fidelity to the + democratic form of government, “which I have established for the happiness + of our country.” His front teeth having been knocked out in some accident + of his former herdsman’s life, his utterance was spluttering and + indistinct. He had been working for Costaguana alone in the midst of + treachery and opposition. Let it cease now lest he should become weary of + forgiving! + </p> + <p> + Don Jose Avellanos had known this forgiveness. + </p> + <p> + He was broken in health and fortune deplorably enough to present a truly + gratifying spectacle to the supreme chief of democratic institutions. He + retired to Sulaco. His wife had an estate in that province, and she nursed + him back to life out of the house of death and captivity. When she died, + their daughter, an only child, was old enough to devote herself to “poor + papa.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Avellanos, born in Europe and educated partly in England, was a tall, + grave girl, with a self-possessed manner, a wide, white forehead, a wealth + of rich brown hair, and blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + The other young ladies of Sulaco stood in awe of her character and + accomplishments. She was reputed to be terribly learned and serious. As to + pride, it was well known that all the Corbelans were proud, and her mother + was a Corbelan. Don Jose Avellanos depended very much upon the devotion of + his beloved Antonia. He accepted it in the benighted way of men, who, + though made in God’s image, are like stone idols without sense before the + smoke of certain burnt offerings. He was ruined in every way, but a man + possessed of passion is not a bankrupt in life. Don Jose Avellanos desired + passionately for his country: peace, prosperity, and (as the end of the + preface to “Fifty Years of Misrule” has it) “an honourable place in the + comity of civilized nations.” In this last phrase the Minister + Plenipotentiary, cruelly humiliated by the bad faith of his Government + towards the foreign bondholders, stands disclosed in the patriot. + </p> + <p> + The fatuous turmoil of greedy factions succeeding the tyranny of Guzman + Bento seemed to bring his desire to the very door of opportunity. He was + too old to descend personally into the centre of the arena at Sta. Marta. + But the men who acted there sought his advice at every step. He himself + thought that he could be most useful at a distance, in Sulaco. His name, + his connections, his former position, his experience commanded the respect + of his class. The discovery that this man, living in dignified poverty in + the Corbelan town residence (opposite the Casa Gould), could dispose of + material means towards the support of the cause increased his influence. + It was his open letter of appeal that decided the candidature of Don + Vincente Ribiera for the Presidency. Another of these informal State + papers drawn up by Don Jose (this time in the shape of an address from the + Province) induced that scrupulous constitutionalist to accept the + extraordinary powers conferred upon him for five years by an overwhelming + vote of congress in Sta. Marta. It was a specific mandate to establish the + prosperity of the people on the basis of firm peace at home, and to redeem + the national credit by the satisfaction of all just claims abroad. + </p> + <p> + On the afternoon the news of that vote had reached Sulaco by the usual + roundabout postal way through Cayta, and up the coast by steamer. Don + Jose, who had been waiting for the mail in the Goulds’ drawing-room, got + out of the rocking-chair, letting his hat fall off his knees. He rubbed + his silvery, short hair with both hands, speechless with the excess of + joy. + </p> + <p> + “Emilia, my soul,” he had burst out, “let me embrace you! Let me—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell, had he been there, would no doubt have made an apt + remark about the dawn of a new era; but if Don Jose thought something of + the kind, his eloquence failed him on this occasion. The inspirer of that + revival of the Blanco party tottered where he stood. Mrs. Gould moved + forward quickly and, as she offered her cheek with a smile to her old + friend, managed very cleverly to give him the support of her arm he really + needed. + </p> + <p> + Don Jose had recovered himself at once, but for a time he could do no more + than murmur, “Oh, you two patriots! Oh, you two patriots!”—looking + from one to the other. Vague plans of another historical work, wherein all + the devotions to the regeneration of the country he loved would be + enshrined for the reverent worship of posterity, flitted through his mind. + The historian who had enough elevation of soul to write of Guzman Bento: + “Yet this monster, imbrued in the blood of his countrymen, must not be + held unreservedly to the execration of future years. It appears to be true + that he, too, loved his country. He had given it twelve years of peace; + and, absolute master of lives and fortunes as he was, he died poor. His + worst fault, perhaps, was not his ferocity, but his ignorance;” the man + who could write thus of a cruel persecutor (the passage occurs in his + “History of Misrule”) felt at the foreshadowing of success an almost + boundless affection for his two helpers, for these two young people from + over the sea. + </p> + <p> + Just as years ago, calmly, from the conviction of practical necessity, + stronger than any abstract political doctrine, Henry Gould had drawn the + sword, so now, the times being changed, Charles Gould had flung the silver + of the San Tome into the fray. The Inglez of Sulaco, the “Costaguana + Englishman” of the third generation, was as far from being a political + intriguer as his uncle from a revolutionary swashbuckler. Springing from + the instinctive uprightness of their natures their action was reasoned. + They saw an opportunity and used the weapon to hand. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould’s position—a commanding position in the background of + that attempt to retrieve the peace and the credit of the Republic—was + very clear. At the beginning he had had to accommodate himself to existing + circumstances of corruption so naively brazen as to disarm the hate of a + man courageous enough not to be afraid of its irresponsible potency to + ruin everything it touched. It seemed to him too contemptible for hot + anger even. He made use of it with a cold, fearless scorn, manifested + rather than concealed by the forms of stony courtesy which did away with + much of the ignominy of the situation. At bottom, perhaps, he suffered + from it, for he was not a man of cowardly illusions, but he refused to + discuss the ethical view with his wife. He trusted that, though a little + disenchanted, she would be intelligent enough to understand that his + character safeguarded the enterprise of their lives as much or more than + his policy. The extraordinary development of the mine had put a great + power into his hands. To feel that prosperity always at the mercy of + unintelligent greed had grown irksome to him. To Mrs. Gould it was + humiliating. At any rate, it was dangerous. In the confidential + communications passing between Charles Gould, the King of Sulaco, and the + head of the silver and steel interests far away in California, the + conviction was growing that any attempt made by men of education and + integrity ought to be discreetly supported. “You may tell your friend + Avellanos that I think so,” Mr. Holroyd had written at the proper moment + from his inviolable sanctuary within the eleven-storey high factory of + great affairs. And shortly afterwards, with a credit opened by the Third + Southern Bank (located next door but one to the Holroyd Building), the + Ribierist party in Costaguana took a practical shape under the eye of the + administrator of the San Tome mine. And Don Jose, the hereditary friend of + the Gould family, could say: “Perhaps, my dear Carlos, I shall not have + believed in vain.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER TWO + </h2> + <p> + After another armed struggle, decided by Montero’s victory of Rio Seco, + had been added to the tale of civil wars, the “honest men,” as Don Jose + called them, could breathe freely for the first time in half a century. + The Five-Year-Mandate law became the basis of that regeneration, the + passionate desire and hope for which had been like the elixir of + everlasting youth for Don Jose Avellanos. + </p> + <p> + And when it was suddenly—and not quite unexpectedly—endangered + by that “brute Montero,” it was a passionate indignation that gave him a + new lease of life, as it were. Already, at the time of the + President-Dictator’s visit to Sulaco, Moraga had sounded a note of warning + from Sta. Marta about the War Minister. Montero and his brother made the + subject of an earnest talk between the Dictator-President and the + Nestor-inspirer of the party. But Don Vincente, a doctor of philosophy + from the Cordova University, seemed to have an exaggerated respect for + military ability, whose mysteriousness—since it appeared to be + altogether independent of intellect—imposed upon his imagination. + The victor of Rio Seco was a popular hero. His services were so recent + that the President-Dictator quailed before the obvious charge of political + ingratitude. Great regenerating transactions were being initiated—the + fresh loan, a new railway line, a vast colonization scheme. Anything that + could unsettle the public opinion in the capital was to be avoided. Don + Jose bowed to these arguments and tried to dismiss from his mind the + gold-laced portent in boots, and with a sabre, made meaningless now at + last, he hoped, in the new order of things. + </p> + <p> + Less than six months after the President-Dictator’s visit, Sulaco learned + with stupefaction of the military revolt in the name of national honour. + The Minister of War, in a barrack-square allocution to the officers of the + artillery regiment he had been inspecting, had declared the national + honour sold to foreigners. The Dictator, by his weak compliance with the + demands of the European powers—for the settlement of long + outstanding money claims—had showed himself unfit to rule. A letter + from Moraga explained afterwards that the initiative, and even the very + text, of the incendiary allocution came, in reality, from the other + Montero, the ex-guerillero, the <i>Commandante de Plaza</i>. The energetic + treatment of Dr. Monygham, sent for in haste “to the mountain,” who came + galloping three leagues in the dark, saved Don Jose from a dangerous + attack of jaundice. + </p> + <p> + After getting over the shock, Don Jose refused to let himself be + prostrated. Indeed, better news succeeded at first. The revolt in the + capital had been suppressed after a night of fighting in the streets. + Unfortunately, both the Monteros had been able to make their escape south, + to their native province of Entre-Montes. The hero of the forest march, + the victor of Rio Seco, had been received with frenzied acclamations in + Nicoya, the provincial capital. The troops in garrison there had gone to + him in a body. The brothers were organizing an army, gathering + malcontents, sending emissaries primed with patriotic lies to the people, + and with promises of plunder to the wild llaneros. Even a Monterist press + had come into existence, speaking oracularly of the secret promises of + support given by “our great sister Republic of the North” against the + sinister land-grabbing designs of European powers, cursing in every issue + the “miserable Ribiera,” who had plotted to deliver his country, bound + hand and foot, for a prey to foreign speculators. + </p> + <p> + Sulaco, pastoral and sleepy, with its opulent Campo and the rich silver + mine, heard the din of arms fitfully in its fortunate isolation. It was + nevertheless in the very forefront of the defence with men and money; but + the very rumours reached it circuitously—from abroad even, so much + was it cut off from the rest of the Republic, not only by natural + obstacles, but also by the vicissitudes of the war. The Monteristos were + besieging Cayta, an important postal link. The overland couriers ceased to + come across the mountains, and no muleteer would consent to risk the + journey at last; even Bonifacio on one occasion failed to return from Sta. + Marta, either not daring to start, or perhaps captured by the parties of + the enemy raiding the country between the Cordillera and the capital. + Monterist publications, however, found their way into the province, + mysteriously enough; and also Monterist emissaries preaching death to + aristocrats in the villages and towns of the Campo. Very early, at the + beginning of the trouble, Hernandez, the bandit, had proposed (through the + agency of an old priest of a village in the wilds) to deliver two of them + to the Ribierist authorities in Tonoro. They had come to offer him a free + pardon and the rank of colonel from General Montero in consideration of + joining the rebel army with his mounted band. No notice was taken at the + time of the proposal. It was joined, as an evidence of good faith, to a + petition praying the Sulaco Assembly for permission to enlist, with all + his followers, in the forces being then raised in Sulaco for the defence + of the Five-Year Mandate of regeneration. The petition, like everything + else, had found its way into Don Jose’s hands. He had showed to Mrs. Gould + these pages of dirty-greyish rough paper (perhaps looted in some village + store), covered with the crabbed, illiterate handwriting of the old padre, + carried off from his hut by the side of a mud-walled church to be the + secretary of the dreaded Salteador. They had both bent in the lamplight of + the Gould drawing-room over the document containing the fierce and yet + humble appeal of the man against the blind and stupid barbarity turning an + honest ranchero into a bandit. A postscript of the priest stated that, but + for being deprived of his liberty for ten days, he had been treated with + humanity and the respect due to his sacred calling. He had been, it + appears, confessing and absolving the chief and most of the band, and he + guaranteed the sincerity of their good disposition. He had distributed + heavy penances, no doubt in the way of litanies and fasts; but he argued + shrewdly that it would be difficult for them to make their peace with God + durably till they had made peace with men. + </p> + <p> + Never before, perhaps, had Hernandez’s head been in less jeopardy than + when he petitioned humbly for permission to buy a pardon for himself and + his gang of deserters by armed service. He could range afar from the waste + lands protecting his fastness, unchecked, because there were no troops + left in the whole province. The usual garrison of Sulaco had gone south to + the war, with its brass band playing the Bolivar march on the bridge of + one of the O.S.N. Company’s steamers. The great family coaches drawn up + along the shore of the harbour were made to rock on the high leathern + springs by the enthusiasm of the senoras and the senoritas standing up to + wave their lace handkerchiefs, as lighter after lighter packed full of + troops left the end of the jetty. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo directed the embarkation, under the superintendendence of Captain + Mitchell, red-faced in the sun, conspicuous in a white waistcoat, + representing the allied and anxious goodwill of all the material interests + of civilization. General Barrios, who commanded the troops, assured Don + Jose on parting that in three weeks he would have Montero in a wooden cage + drawn by three pair of oxen ready for a tour through all the towns of the + Republic. + </p> + <p> + “And then, senora,” he continued, baring his curly iron-grey head to Mrs. + Gould in her landau—“and then, senora, we shall convert our swords + into plough-shares and grow rich. Even I, myself, as soon as this little + business is settled, shall open a fundacion on some land I have on the + llanos and try to make a little money in peace and quietness. Senora, you + know, all Costaguana knows—what do I say?—this whole South + American continent knows, that Pablo Barrios has had his fill of military + glory.” + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould was not present at the anxious and patriotic send-off. It + was not his part to see the soldiers embark. It was neither his part, nor + his inclination, nor his policy. His part, his inclination, and his policy + were united in one endeavour to keep unchecked the flow of treasure he had + started single-handed from the re-opened scar in the flank of the + mountain. As the mine developed he had trained for himself some native + help. There were foremen, artificers and clerks, with Don Pepe for the + gobernador of the mining population. For the rest his shoulders alone + sustained the whole weight of the “Imperium in Imperio,” the great Gould + Concession whose mere shadow had been enough to crush the life out of his + father. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould had no silver mine to look after. In the general life of the + Gould Concession she was represented by her two lieutenants, the doctor + and the priest, but she fed her woman’s love of excitement on events whose + significance was purified to her by the fire of her imaginative purpose. + On that day she had brought the Avellanos, father and daughter, down to + the harbour with her. + </p> + <p> + Amongst his other activities of that stirring time, Don Jose had become + the chairman of a Patriotic Committee which had armed a great proportion + of troops in the Sulaco command with an improved model of a military + rifle. It had been just discarded for something still more deadly by one + of the great European powers. How much of the market-price for second-hand + weapons was covered by the voluntary contributions of the principal + families, and how much came from those funds Don Jose was understood to + command abroad, remained a secret which he alone could have disclosed; but + the Ricos, as the populace called them, had contributed under the pressure + of their Nestor’s eloquence. Some of the more enthusiastic ladies had been + moved to bring offerings of jewels into the hands of the man who was the + life and soul of the party. + </p> + <p> + There were moments when both his life and his soul seemed overtaxed by so + many years of undiscouraged belief in regeneration. He appeared almost + inanimate, sitting rigidly by the side of Mrs. Gould in the landau, with + his fine, old, clean-shaven face of a uniform tint as if modelled in + yellow wax, shaded by a soft felt hat, the dark eyes looking out fixedly. + Antonia, the beautiful Antonia, as Miss Avellanos was called in Sulaco, + leaned back, facing them; and her full figure, the grave oval of her face + with full red lips, made her look more mature than Mrs. Gould, with her + mobile expression and small, erect person under a slightly swaying + sunshade. + </p> + <p> + Whenever possible Antonia attended her father; her recognized devotion + weakened the shocking effect of her scorn for the rigid conventions + regulating the life of Spanish-American girlhood. And, in truth, she was + no longer girlish. It was said that she often wrote State papers from her + father’s dictation, and was allowed to read all the books in his library. + At the receptions—where the situation was saved by the presence of a + very decrepit old lady (a relation of the Corbelans), quite deaf and + motionless in an armchair—Antonia could hold her own in a discussion + with two or three men at a time. Obviously she was not the girl to be + content with peeping through a barred window at a cloaked figure of a + lover ensconced in a doorway opposite—which is the correct form of + Costaguana courtship. It was generally believed that with her foreign + upbringing and foreign ideas the learned and proud Antonia would never + marry—unless, indeed, she married a foreigner from Europe or North + America, now that Sulaco seemed on the point of being invaded by all the + world. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THREE + </h2> + <p> + When General Barrios stopped to address Mrs. Gould, Antonia raised + negligently her hand holding an open fan, as if to shade from the sun her + head, wrapped in a light lace shawl. The clear gleam of her blue eyes + gliding behind the black fringe of eyelashes paused for a moment upon her + father, then travelled further to the figure of a young man of thirty at + most, of medium height, rather thick-set, wearing a light overcoat. + Bearing down with the open palm of his hand upon the knob of a flexible + cane, he had been looking on from a distance; but directly he saw himself + noticed, he approached quietly and put his elbow over the door of the + landau. + </p> + <p> + The shirt collar, cut low in the neck, the big bow of his cravat, the + style of his clothing, from the round hat to the varnished shoes, + suggested an idea of French elegance; but otherwise he was the very type + of a fair Spanish creole. The fluffy moustache and the short, curly, + golden beard did not conceal his lips, rosy, fresh, almost pouting in + expression. His full, round face was of that warm, healthy creole white + which is never tanned by its native sunshine. Martin Decoud was seldom + exposed to the Costaguana sun under which he was born. His people had been + long settled in Paris, where he had studied law, had dabbled in + literature, had hoped now and then in moments of exaltation to become a + poet like that other foreigner of Spanish blood, Jose Maria Heredia. In + other moments he had, to pass the time, condescended to write articles on + European affairs for the Semenario, the principal newspaper in Sta. Marta, + which printed them under the heading “From our special correspondent,” + though the authorship was an open secret. Everybody in Costaguana, where + the tale of compatriots in Europe is jealously kept, knew that it was “the + son Decoud,” a talented young man, supposed to be moving in the higher + spheres of Society. As a matter of fact, he was an idle boulevardier, in + touch with some smart journalists, made free of a few newspaper offices, + and welcomed in the pleasure haunts of pressmen. This life, whose dreary + superficiality is covered by the glitter of universal blague, like the + stupid clowning of a harlequin by the spangles of a motley costume, + induced in him a Frenchified—but most un-French—cosmopolitanism, + in reality a mere barren indifferentism posing as intellectual + superiority. Of his own country he used to say to his French associates: + “Imagine an atmosphere of opera-bouffe in which all the comic business of + stage statesmen, brigands, etc., etc., all their farcical stealing, + intriguing, and stabbing is done in dead earnest. It is screamingly funny, + the blood flows all the time, and the actors believe themselves to be + influencing the fate of the universe. Of course, government in general, + any government anywhere, is a thing of exquisite comicality to a + discerning mind; but really we Spanish-Americans do overstep the bounds. + No man of ordinary intelligence can take part in the intrigues of une + farce macabre. However, these Ribierists, of whom we hear so much just + now, are really trying in their own comical way to make the country + habitable, and even to pay some of its debts. My friends, you had better + write up Senor Ribiera all you can in kindness to your own bondholders. + Really, if what I am told in my letters is true, there is some chance for + them at last.” + </p> + <p> + And he would explain with railing verve what Don Vincente Ribiera stood + for—a mournful little man oppressed by his own good intentions, the + significance of battles won, who Montero was (<i>un grotesque vaniteux et + feroce</i>), and the manner of the new loan connected with railway + development, and the colonization of vast tracts of land in one great + financial scheme. + </p> + <p> + And his French friends would remark that evidently this little fellow <i>Decoud + connaissait la question a fond</i>. An important Parisian review asked him + for an article on the situation. It was composed in a serious tone and in + a spirit of levity. Afterwards he asked one of his intimates— + </p> + <p> + “Have you read my thing about the regeneration of Costaguana—<i>une + bonne blague, hein</i>?” + </p> + <p> + He imagined himself Parisian to the tips of his fingers. But far from + being that he was in danger of remaining a sort of nondescript dilettante + all his life. He had pushed the habit of universal raillery to a point + where it blinded him to the genuine impulses of his own nature. To be + suddenly selected for the executive member of the patriotic small-arms + committee of Sulaco seemed to him the height of the unexpected, one of + those fantastic moves of which only his “dear countrymen” were capable. + </p> + <p> + “It’s like a tile falling on my head. I—I—executive member! + It’s the first I hear of it! What do I know of military rifles? <i>C’est + funambulesque!</i>” he had exclaimed to his favourite sister; for the + Decoud family—except the old father and mother—used the French + language amongst themselves. “And you should see the explanatory and + confidential letter! Eight pages of it—no less!” + </p> + <p> + This letter, in Antonia’s handwriting, was signed by Don Jose, who + appealed to the “young and gifted Costaguanero” on public grounds, and + privately opened his heart to his talented god-son, a man of wealth and + leisure, with wide relations, and by his parentage and bringing-up worthy + of all confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Which means,” Martin commented, cynically, to his sister, “that I am not + likely to misappropriate the funds, or go blabbing to our <i>Charge + d’Affaires</i> here.” + </p> + <p> + The whole thing was being carried out behind the back of the War Minister, + Montero, a mistrusted member of the Ribiera Government, but difficult to + get rid of at once. He was not to know anything of it till the troops + under Barrios’s command had the new rifle in their hands. The + President-Dictator, whose position was very difficult, was alone in the + secret. + </p> + <p> + “How funny!” commented Martin’s sister and confidante; to which the + brother, with an air of best Parisian blague, had retorted: + </p> + <p> + “It’s immense! The idea of that Chief of the State engaged, with the help + of private citizens, in digging a mine under his own indispensable War + Minister. No! We are unapproachable!” And he laughed immoderately. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards his sister was surprised at the earnestness and ability he + displayed in carrying out his mission, which circumstances made delicate, + and his want of special knowledge rendered difficult. She had never seen + Martin take so much trouble about anything in his whole life. + </p> + <p> + “It amuses me,” he had explained, briefly. “I am beset by a lot of + swindlers trying to sell all sorts of gaspipe weapons. They are charming; + they invite me to expensive luncheons; I keep up their hopes; it’s + extremely entertaining. Meanwhile, the real affair is being carried + through in quite another quarter.” + </p> + <p> + When the business was concluded he declared suddenly his intention of + seeing the precious consignment delivered safely in Sulaco. The whole + burlesque business, he thought, was worth following up to the end. He + mumbled his excuses, tugging at his golden beard, before the acute young + lady who (after the first wide stare of astonishment) looked at him with + narrowed eyes, and pronounced slowly— + </p> + <p> + “I believe you want to see Antonia.” + </p> + <p> + “What Antonia?” asked the Costaguana boulevardier, in a vexed and + disdainful tone. He shrugged his shoulders, and spun round on his heel. + His sister called out after him joyously— + </p> + <p> + “The Antonia you used to know when she wore her hair in two plaits down + her back.” + </p> + <p> + He had known her some eight years since, shortly before the Avellanos had + left Europe for good, as a tall girl of sixteen, youthfully austere, and + of a character already so formed that she ventured to treat slightingly + his pose of disabused wisdom. On one occasion, as though she had lost all + patience, she flew out at him about the aimlessness of his life and the + levity of his opinions. He was twenty then, an only son, spoiled by his + adoring family. This attack disconcerted him so greatly that he had + faltered in his affectation of amused superiority before that + insignificant chit of a school-girl. But the impression left was so strong + that ever since all the girl friends of his sisters recalled to him + Antonia Avellanos by some faint resemblance, or by the great force of + contrast. It was, he told himself, like a ridiculous fatality. And, of + course, in the news the Decouds received regularly from Costaguana, the + name of their friends, the Avellanos, cropped up frequently—the + arrest and the abominable treatment of the ex-Minister, the dangers and + hardships endured by the family, its withdrawal in poverty to Sulaco, the + death of the mother. + </p> + <p> + The Monterist pronunciamento had taken place before Martin Decoud reached + Costaguana. He came out in a roundabout way, through Magellan’s Straits by + the main line and the West Coast Service of the O.S.N. Company. His + precious consignment arrived just in time to convert the first feelings of + consternation into a mood of hope and resolution. Publicly he was made + much of by the <i>familias principales</i>. Privately Don Jose, still + shaken and weak, embraced him with tears in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You have come out yourself! No less could be expected from a Decoud. + Alas! our worst fears have been realized,” he moaned, affectionately. And + again he hugged his god-son. This was indeed the time for men of intellect + and conscience to rally round the endangered cause. + </p> + <p> + It was then that Martin Decoud, the adopted child of Western Europe, felt + the absolute change of atmosphere. He submitted to being embraced and + talked to without a word. He was moved in spite of himself by that note of + passion and sorrow unknown on the more refined stage of European politics. + But when the tall Antonia, advancing with her light step in the dimness of + the big bare Sala of the Avellanos house, offered him her hand (in her + emancipated way), and murmured, “I am glad to see you here, Don Martin,” + he felt how impossible it would be to tell these two people that he had + intended to go away by the next month’s packet. Don Jose, meantime, + continued his praises. Every accession added to public confidence, and, + besides, what an example to the young men at home from the brilliant + defender of the country’s regeneration, the worthy expounder of the + party’s political faith before the world! Everybody had read the + magnificent article in the famous Parisian Review. The world was now + informed: and the author’s appearance at this moment was like a public act + of faith. Young Decoud felt overcome by a feeling of impatient confusion. + His plan had been to return by way of the United States through + California, visit Yellowstone Park, see Chicago, Niagara, have a look at + Canada, perhaps make a short stay in New York, a longer one in Newport, + use his letters of introduction. The pressure of Antonia’s hand was so + frank, the tone of her voice was so unexpectedly unchanged in its + approving warmth, that all he found to say after his low bow was— + </p> + <p> + “I am inexpressibly grateful for your welcome; but why need a man be + thanked for returning to his native country? I am sure Dona Antonia does + not think so.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, senor,” she said, with that perfectly calm openness of + manner which characterized all her utterances. “But when he returns, as + you return, one may be glad—for the sake of both.” + </p> + <p> + Martin Decoud said nothing of his plans. He not only never breathed a word + of them to any one, but only a fortnight later asked the mistress of the + Casa Gould (where he had of course obtained admission at once), leaning + forward in his chair with an air of well-bred familiarity, whether she + could not detect in him that day a marked change—an air, he + explained, of more excellent gravity. At this Mrs. Gould turned her face + full towards him with the silent inquiry of slightly widened eyes and the + merest ghost of a smile, an habitual movement with her, which was very + fascinating to men by something subtly devoted, finely self-forgetful in + its lively readiness of attention. Because, Decoud continued + imperturbably, he felt no longer an idle cumberer of the earth. She was, + he assured her, actually beholding at that moment the Journalist of + Sulaco. At once Mrs. Gould glanced towards Antonia, posed upright in the + corner of a high, straight-backed Spanish sofa, a large black fan waving + slowly against the curves of her fine figure, the tips of crossed feet + peeping from under the hem of the black skirt. Decoud’s eyes also remained + fixed there, while in an undertone he added that Miss Avellanos was quite + aware of his new and unexpected vocation, which in Costaguana was + generally the speciality of half-educated negroes and wholly penniless + lawyers. Then, confronting with a sort of urbane effrontery Mrs. Gould’s + gaze, now turned sympathetically upon himself, he breathed out the words, + “<i>Pro Patria!</i>” + </p> + <p> + What had happened was that he had all at once yielded to Don Jose’s + pressing entreaties to take the direction of a newspaper that would “voice + the aspirations of the province.” It had been Don Jose’s old and cherished + idea. The necessary plant (on a modest scale) and a large consignment of + paper had been received from America some time before; the right man alone + was wanted. Even Senor Moraga in Sta. Marta had not been able to find one, + and the matter was now becoming pressing; some organ was absolutely needed + to counteract the effect of the lies disseminated by the Monterist press: + the atrocious calumnies, the appeals to the people calling upon them to + rise with their knives in their hands and put an end once for all to the + Blancos, to these Gothic remnants, to these sinister mummies, these + impotent paraliticos, who plotted with foreigners for the surrender of the + lands and the slavery of the people. + </p> + <p> + The clamour of this Negro Liberalism frightened Senor Avellanos. A + newspaper was the only remedy. And now that the right man had been found + in Decoud, great black letters appeared painted between the windows above + the arcaded ground floor of a house on the Plaza. It was next to Anzani’s + great emporium of boots, silks, ironware, muslins, wooden toys, tiny + silver arms, legs, heads, hearts (for ex-voto offerings), rosaries, + champagne, women’s hats, patent medicines, even a few dusty books in paper + covers and mostly in the French language. The big black letters formed the + words, “Offices of the Porvenir.” From these offices a single folded sheet + of Martin’s journalism issued three times a week; and the sleek yellow + Anzani prowling in a suit of ample black and carpet slippers, before the + many doors of his establishment, greeted by a deep, side-long inclination + of his body the Journalist of Sulaco going to and fro on the business of + his august calling. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER FOUR + </h2> + <p> + Perhaps it was in the exercise of his calling that he had come to see the + troops depart. The Porvenir of the day after next would no doubt relate + the event, but its editor, leaning his side against the landau, seemed to + look at nothing. The front rank of the company of infantry drawn up three + deep across the shore end of the jetty when pressed too close would bring + their bayonets to the charge ferociously, with an awful rattle; and then + the crowd of spectators swayed back bodily, even under the noses of the + big white mules. Notwithstanding the great multitude there was only a low, + muttering noise; the dust hung in a brown haze, in which the horsemen, + wedged in the throng here and there, towered from the hips upwards, gazing + all one way over the heads. Almost every one of them had mounted a friend, + who steadied himself with both hands grasping his shoulders from behind; + and the rims of their hats touching, made like one disc sustaining the + cones of two pointed crowns with a double face underneath. A hoarse mozo + would bawl out something to an acquaintance in the ranks, or a woman would + shriek suddenly the word Adios! followed by the Christian name of a man. + </p> + <p> + General Barrios, in a shabby blue tunic and white peg-top trousers falling + upon strange red boots, kept his head uncovered and stooped slightly, + propping himself up with a thick stick. No! He had earned enough military + glory to satiate any man, he insisted to Mrs. Gould, trying at the same + time to put an air of gallantry into his attitude. A few jetty hairs hung + sparsely from his upper lip, he had a salient nose, a thin, long jaw, and + a black silk patch over one eye. His other eye, small and deep-set, + twinkled erratically in all directions, aimlessly affable. The few + European spectators, all men, who had naturally drifted into the + neighbourhood of the Gould carriage, betrayed by the solemnity of their + faces their impression that the general must have had too much punch + (Swedish punch, imported in bottles by Anzani) at the Amarilla Club before + he had started with his Staff on a furious ride to the harbour. But Mrs. + Gould bent forward, self-possessed, and declared her conviction that still + more glory awaited the general in the near future. + </p> + <p> + “Senora!” he remonstrated, with great feeling, “in the name of God, + reflect! How can there be any glory for a man like me in overcoming that + bald-headed embustero with the dyed moustaches?” + </p> + <p> + Pablo Ignacio Barrios, son of a village alcalde, general of division, + commanding in chief the Occidental Military district, did not frequent the + higher society of the town. He preferred the unceremonious gatherings of + men where he could tell jaguar-hunt stories, boast of his powers with the + lasso, with which he could perform extremely difficult feats of the sort + “no married man should attempt,” as the saying goes amongst the llaneros; + relate tales of extraordinary night rides, encounters with wild bulls, + struggles with crocodiles, adventures in the great forests, crossings of + swollen rivers. And it was not mere boastfulness that prompted the + general’s reminiscences, but a genuine love of that wild life which he had + led in his young days before he turned his back for ever on the thatched + roof of the parental tolderia in the woods. Wandering away as far as + Mexico he had fought against the French by the side (as he said) of + Juarez, and was the only military man of Costaguana who had ever + encountered European troops in the field. That fact shed a great lustre + upon his name till it became eclipsed by the rising star of Montero. All + his life he had been an inveterate gambler. He alluded himself quite + openly to the current story how once, during some campaign (when in + command of a brigade), he had gambled away his horses, pistols, and + accoutrements, to the very epaulettes, playing monte with his colonels the + night before the battle. Finally, he had sent under escort his sword (a + presentation sword, with a gold hilt) to the town in the rear of his + position to be immediately pledged for five hundred pesetas with a sleepy + and frightened shop-keeper. By daybreak he had lost the last of that + money, too, when his only remark, as he rose calmly, was, “Now let us go + and fight to the death.” From that time he had become aware that a general + could lead his troops into battle very well with a simple stick in his + hand. “It has been my custom ever since,” he would say. + </p> + <p> + He was always overwhelmed with debts; even during the periods of splendour + in his varied fortunes of a Costaguana general, when he held high military + commands, his gold-laced uniforms were almost always in pawn with some + tradesman. And at last, to avoid the incessant difficulties of costume + caused by the anxious lenders, he had assumed a disdain of military + trappings, an eccentric fashion of shabby old tunics, which had become + like a second nature. But the faction Barrios joined needed to fear no + political betrayal. He was too much of a real soldier for the ignoble + traffic of buying and selling victories. A member of the foreign + diplomatic body in Sta. Marta had once passed a judgment upon him: + “Barrios is a man of perfect honesty and even of some talent for war, <i>mais + il manque de tenue</i>.” After the triumph of the Ribierists he had + obtained the reputedly lucrative Occidental command, mainly through the + exertions of his creditors (the Sta. Marta shopkeepers, all great + politicians), who moved heaven and earth in his interest publicly, and + privately besieged Senor Moraga, the influential agent of the San Tome + mine, with the exaggerated lamentations that if the general were passed + over, “We shall all be ruined.” An incidental but favourable mention of + his name in Mr. Gould senior’s long correspondence with his son had + something to do with his appointment, too; but most of all undoubtedly his + established political honesty. No one questioned the personal bravery of + the Tiger-killer, as the populace called him. He was, however, said to be + unlucky in the field—but this was to be the beginning of an era of + peace. The soldiers liked him for his humane temper, which was like a + strange and precious flower unexpectedly blooming on the hotbed of corrupt + revolutions; and when he rode slowly through the streets during some + military display, the contemptuous good humour of his solitary eye roaming + over the crowds extorted the acclamations of the populace. The women of + that class especially seemed positively fascinated by the long drooping + nose, the peaked chin, the heavy lower lip, the black silk eyepatch and + band slanting rakishly over the forehead. His high rank always procured an + audience of Caballeros for his sporting stories, which he detailed very + well with a simple, grave enjoyment. As to the society of ladies, it was + irksome by the restraints it imposed without any equivalent, as far as he + could see. He had not, perhaps, spoken three times on the whole to Mrs. + Gould since he had taken up his high command; but he had observed her + frequently riding with the Senor Administrador, and had pronounced that + there was more sense in her little bridle-hand than in all the female + heads in Sulaco. His impulse had been to be very civil on parting to a + woman who did not wobble in the saddle, and happened to be the wife of a + personality very important to a man always short of money. He even pushed + his attentions so far as to desire the aide-de-camp at his side (a + thick-set, short captain with a Tartar physiognomy) to bring along a + corporal with a file of men in front of the carriage, lest the crowd in + its backward surges should “incommode the mules of the senora.” Then, + turning to the small knot of silent Europeans looking on within earshot, + he raised his voice protectingly— + </p> + <p> + “Senores, have no apprehension. Go on quietly making your Ferro Carril—your + railways, your telegraphs. Your—There’s enough wealth in Costaguana + to pay for everything—or else you would not be here. Ha! ha! Don’t + mind this little picardia of my friend Montero. In a little while you + shall behold his dyed moustaches through the bars of a strong wooden cage. + Si, senores! Fear nothing, develop the country, work, work!” + </p> + <p> + The little group of engineers received this exhortation without a word, + and after waving his hand at them loftily, he addressed himself again to + Mrs. Gould— + </p> + <p> + “That is what Don Jose says we must do. Be enterprising! Work! Grow rich! + To put Montero in a cage is my work; and when that insignificant piece of + business is done, then, as Don Jose wishes us, we shall grow rich, one and + all, like so many Englishmen, because it is money that saves a country, + and—” + </p> + <p> + But a young officer in a very new uniform, hurrying up from the direction + of the jetty, interrupted his interpretation of Senor Avellanos’s ideals. + The general made a movement of impatience; the other went on talking to + him insistently, with an air of respect. The horses of the Staff had been + embarked, the steamer’s gig was awaiting the general at the boat steps; + and Barrios, after a fierce stare of his one eye, began to take leave. Don + Jose roused himself for an appropriate phrase pronounced mechanically. The + terrible strain of hope and fear was telling on him, and he seemed to + husband the last sparks of his fire for those oratorical efforts of which + even the distant Europe was to hear. Antonia, her red lips firmly closed, + averted her head behind the raised fan; and young Decoud, though he felt + the girl’s eyes upon him, gazed away persistently, hooked on his elbow, + with a scornful and complete detachment. Mrs. Gould heroically concealed + her dismay at the appearance of men and events so remote from her racial + conventions, dismay too deep to be uttered in words even to her husband. + She understood his voiceless reserve better now. Their confidential + intercourse fell, not in moments of privacy, but precisely in public, when + the quick meeting of their glances would comment upon some fresh turn of + events. She had gone to his school of uncompromising silence, the only one + possible, since so much that seemed shocking, weird, and grotesque in the + working out of their purposes had to be accepted as normal in this + country. Decidedly, the stately Antonia looked more mature and infinitely + calm; but she would never have known how to reconcile the sudden sinkings + of her heart with an amiable mobility of expression. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould smiled a good-bye at Barrios, nodded round to the Europeans + (who raised their hats simultaneously) with an engaging invitation, “I + hope to see you all presently, at home”; then said nervously to Decoud, + “Get in, Don Martin,” and heard him mutter to himself in French, as he + opened the carriage door, “<i>Le sort en est jete</i>.” She heard him with + a sort of exasperation. Nobody ought to have known better than himself + that the first cast of dice had been already thrown long ago in a most + desperate game. Distant acclamations, words of command yelled out, and a + roll of drums on the jetty greeted the departing general. Something like a + slight faintness came over her, and she looked blankly at Antonia’s still + face, wondering what would happen to Charley if that absurd man failed. “A + la casa, Ignacio,” she cried at the motionless broad back of the coachman, + who gathered the reins without haste, mumbling to himself under his + breath, “Si, la casa. Si, si nina.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage rolled noiselessly on the soft track, the shadows fell long + on the dusty little plain interspersed with dark bushes, mounds of + turned-up earth, low wooden buildings with iron roofs of the Railway + Company; the sparse row of telegraph poles strode obliquely clear of the + town, bearing a single, almost invisible wire far into the great campo—like + a slender, vibrating feeler of that progress waiting outside for a moment + of peace to enter and twine itself about the weary heart of the land. + </p> + <p> + The cafe window of the Albergo d’ltalia Una was full of sunburnt, + whiskered faces of railway men. But at the other end of the house, the end + of the Signori Inglesi, old Giorgio, at the door with one of his girls on + each side, bared his bushy head, as white as the snows of Higuerota. Mrs. + Gould stopped the carriage. She seldom failed to speak to her protege; + moreover, the excitement, the heat, and the dust had made her thirsty. She + asked for a glass of water. Giorgio sent the children indoors for it, and + approached with pleasure expressed in his whole rugged countenance. It was + not often that he had occasion to see his benefactress, who was also an + Englishwoman—another title to his regard. He offered some excuses + for his wife. It was a bad day with her; her oppressions—he tapped + his own broad chest. She could not move from her chair that day. + </p> + <p> + Decoud, ensconced in the corner of his seat, observed gloomily Mrs. + Gould’s old revolutionist, then, offhand— + </p> + <p> + “Well, and what do you think of it all, Garibaldino?” + </p> + <p> + Old Giorgio, looking at him with some curiosity, said civilly that the + troops had marched very well. One-eyed Barrios and his officers had done + wonders with the recruits in a short time. Those Indios, only caught the + other day, had gone swinging past in double quick time, like bersaglieri; + they looked well fed, too, and had whole uniforms. “Uniforms!” he repeated + with a half-smile of pity. A look of grim retrospect stole over his + piercing, steady eyes. It had been otherwise in his time when men fought + against tyranny, in the forests of Brazil, or on the plains of Uruguay, + starving on half-raw beef without salt, half naked, with often only a + knife tied to a stick for a weapon. “And yet we used to prevail against + the oppressor,” he concluded, proudly. + </p> + <p> + His animation fell; the slight gesture of his hand expressed + discouragement; but he added that he had asked one of the sergeants to + show him the new rifle. There was no such weapon in his fighting days; and + if Barrios could not— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” broke in Don Jose, almost trembling with eagerness. “We are + safe. The good Senor Viola is a man of experience. Extremely deadly—is + it not so? You have accomplished your mission admirably, my dear Martin.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud, lolling back moodily, contemplated old Viola. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Yes. A man of experience. But who are you for, really, in your + heart?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould leaned over to the children. Linda had brought out a glass of + water on a tray, with extreme care; Giselle presented her with a bunch of + flowers gathered hastily. + </p> + <p> + “For the people,” declared old Viola, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “We are all for the people—in the end.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” muttered old Viola, savagely. “And meantime they fight for you. + Blind. Esclavos!” + </p> + <p> + At that moment young Scarfe of the railway staff emerged from the door of + the part reserved for the Signori Inglesi. He had come down to + headquarters from somewhere up the line on a light engine, and had had + just time to get a bath and change his clothes. He was a nice boy, and + Mrs. Gould welcomed him. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a delightful surprise to see you, Mrs. Gould. I’ve just come down. + Usual luck. Missed everything, of course. This show is just over, and I + hear there has been a great dance at Don Juste Lopez’s last night. Is it + true?” + </p> + <p> + “The young patricians,” Decoud began suddenly in his precise English, + “have indeed been dancing before they started off to the war with the + Great Pompey.” + </p> + <p> + Young Scarfe stared, astounded. “You haven’t met before,” Mrs. Gould + intervened. “Mr. Decoud—Mr. Scarfe.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! But we are not going to Pharsalia,” protested Don Jose, with nervous + haste, also in English. “You should not jest like this, Martin.” + </p> + <p> + Antonia’s breast rose and fell with a deeper breath. The young engineer + was utterly in the dark. “Great what?” he muttered, vaguely. + </p> + <p> + “Luckily, Montero is not a Caesar,” Decoud continued. “Not the two + Monteros put together would make a decent parody of a Caesar.” He crossed + his arms on his breast, looking at Senor Avellanos, who had returned to + his immobility. “It is only you, Don Jose, who are a genuine old Roman—vir + Romanus—eloquent and inflexible.” + </p> + <p> + Since he had heard the name of Montero pronounced, young Scarfe had been + eager to express his simple feelings. In a loud and youthful tone he hoped + that this Montero was going to be licked once for all and done with. There + was no saying what would happen to the railway if the revolution got the + upper hand. Perhaps it would have to be abandoned. It would not be the + first railway gone to pot in Costaguana. “You know, it’s one of their + so-called national things,” he ran on, wrinkling up his nose as if the + word had a suspicious flavour to his profound experience of South American + affairs. And, of course, he chatted with animation, it had been such an + immense piece of luck for him at his age to get appointed on the staff “of + a big thing like that—don’t you know.” It would give him the pull + over a lot of chaps all through life, he asserted. “Therefore—down + with Montero! Mrs. Gould.” His artless grin disappeared slowly before the + unanimous gravity of the faces turned upon him from the carriage; only + that “old chap,” Don Jose, presenting a motionless, waxy profile, stared + straight on as if deaf. Scarfe did not know the Avellanos very well. They + did not give balls, and Antonia never appeared at a ground-floor window, + as some other young ladies used to do attended by elder women, to chat + with the caballeros on horseback in the Calle. The stares of these creoles + did not matter much; but what on earth had come to Mrs. Gould? She said, + “Go on, Ignacio,” and gave him a slow inclination of the head. He heard a + short laugh from that round-faced, Frenchified fellow. He coloured up to + the eyes, and stared at Giorgio Viola, who had fallen back with the + children, hat in hand. + </p> + <p> + “I shall want a horse presently,” he said with some asperity to the old + man. + </p> + <p> + “Si, senor. There are plenty of horses,” murmured the Garibaldino, + smoothing absently, with his brown hands, the two heads, one dark with + bronze glints, the other fair with a coppery ripple, of the two girls by + his side. The returning stream of sightseers raised a great dust on the + road. Horsemen noticed the group. “Go to your mother,” he said. “They are + growing up as I am growing older, and there is nobody—” + </p> + <p> + He looked at the young engineer and stopped, as if awakened from a dream; + then, folding his arms on his breast, took up his usual position, leaning + back in the doorway with an upward glance fastened on the white shoulder + of Higuerota far away. + </p> + <p> + In the carriage Martin Decoud, shifting his position as though he could + not make himself comfortable, muttered as he swayed towards Antonia, “I + suppose you hate me.” Then in a loud voice he began to congratulate Don + Jose upon all the engineers being convinced Ribierists. The interest of + all those foreigners was gratifying. “You have heard this one. He is an + enlightened well-wisher. It is pleasant to think that the prosperity of + Costaguana is of some use to the world.” + </p> + <p> + “He is very young,” Mrs. Gould remarked, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “And so very wise for his age,” retorted Decoud. “But here we have the + naked truth from the mouth of that child. You are right, Don Jose. The + natural treasures of Costaguana are of importance to the progressive + Europe represented by this youth, just as three hundred years ago the + wealth of our Spanish fathers was a serious object to the rest of Europe—as + represented by the bold buccaneers. There is a curse of futility upon our + character: Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, chivalry and materialism, + high-sounding sentiments and a supine morality, violent efforts for an + idea and a sullen acquiescence in every form of corruption. We convulsed a + continent for our independence only to become the passive prey of a + democratic parody, the helpless victims of scoundrels and cut-throats, our + institutions a mockery, our laws a farce—a Guzman Bento our master! + And we have sunk so low that when a man like you has awakened our + conscience, a stupid barbarian of a Montero—Great Heavens! a + Montero!—becomes a deadly danger, and an ignorant, boastful Indio, + like Barrios, is our defender.” + </p> + <p> + But Don Jose, disregarding the general indictment as though he had not + heard a word of it, took up the defence of Barrios. The man was competent + enough for his special task in the plan of campaign. It consisted in an + offensive movement, with Cayta as base, upon the flank of the + Revolutionist forces advancing from the south against Sta. Marta, which + was covered by another army with the President-Dictator in its midst. Don + Jose became quite animated with a great flow of speech, bending forward + anxiously under the steady eyes of his daughter. Decoud, as if silenced by + so much ardour, did not make a sound. The bells of the city were striking + the hour of Oracion when the carriage rolled under the old gateway facing + the harbour like a shapeless monument of leaves and stones. The rumble of + wheels under the sonorous arch was traversed by a strange, piercing + shriek, and Decoud, from his back seat, had a view of the people behind + the carriage trudging along the road outside, all turning their heads, in + sombreros and rebozos, to look at a locomotive which rolled quickly out of + sight behind Giorgio Viola’s house, under a white trail of steam that + seemed to vanish in the breathless, hysterically prolonged scream of + warlike triumph. And it was all like a fleeting vision, the shrieking + ghost of a railway engine fleeing across the frame of the archway, behind + the startled movement of the people streaming back from a military + spectacle with silent footsteps on the dust of the road. It was a material + train returning from the Campo to the palisaded yards. The empty cars + rolled lightly on the single track; there was no rumble of wheels, no + tremor of the ground. The engine-driver, running past the Casa Viola with + the salute of an uplifted arm, checked his speed smartly before entering + the yard; and when the ear-splitting screech of the steam-whistle for the + brakes had stopped, a series of hard, battering shocks, mingled with the + clanking of chain-couplings, made a tumult of blows and shaken fetters + under the vault of the gate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER FIVE + </h2> + <p> + The Gould carriage was the first to return from the harbour to the empty + town. On the ancient pavement, laid out in patterns, sunk into ruts and + holes, the portly Ignacio, mindful of the springs of the Parisian-built + landau, had pulled up to a walk, and Decoud in his corner contemplated + moodily the inner aspect of the gate. The squat turreted sides held up + between them a mass of masonry with bunches of grass growing at the top, + and a grey, heavily scrolled, armorial shield of stone above the apex of + the arch with the arms of Spain nearly smoothed out as if in readiness for + some new device typical of the impending progress. + </p> + <p> + The explosive noise of the railway trucks seemed to augment Decoud’s + irritation. He muttered something to himself, then began to talk aloud in + curt, angry phrases thrown at the silence of the two women. They did not + look at him at all; while Don Jose, with his semi-translucent, waxy + complexion, overshadowed by the soft grey hat, swayed a little to the + jolts of the carriage by the side of Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “This sound puts a new edge on a very old truth.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud spoke in French, perhaps because of Ignacio on the box above him; + the old coachman, with his broad back filling a short, silver-braided + jacket, had a big pair of ears, whose thick rims stood well away from his + cropped head. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the noise outside the city wall is new, but the principle is old.” + </p> + <p> + He ruminated his discontent for a while, then began afresh with a sidelong + glance at Antonia— + </p> + <p> + “No, but just imagine our forefathers in morions and corselets drawn up + outside this gate, and a band of adventurers just landed from their ships + in the harbour there. Thieves, of course. Speculators, too. Their + expeditions, each one, were the speculations of grave and reverend persons + in England. That is history, as that absurd sailor Mitchell is always + saying.” + </p> + <p> + “Mitchell’s arrangements for the embarkation of the troops were + excellent!” exclaimed Don Jose. + </p> + <p> + “That!—that! oh, that’s really the work of that Genoese seaman! But + to return to my noises; there used to be in the old days the sound of + trumpets outside that gate. War trumpets! I’m sure they were trumpets. I + have read somewhere that Drake, who was the greatest of these men, used to + dine alone in his cabin on board ship to the sound of trumpets. In those + days this town was full of wealth. Those men came to take it. Now the + whole land is like a treasure-house, and all these people are breaking + into it, whilst we are cutting each other’s throats. The only thing that + keeps them out is mutual jealousy. But they’ll come to an agreement some + day—and by the time we’ve settled our quarrels and become decent and + honourable, there’ll be nothing left for us. It has always been the same. + We are a wonderful people, but it has always been our fate to be”—he + did not say “robbed,” but added, after a pause—“exploited!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould said, “Oh, this is unjust!” And Antonia interjected, “Don’t + answer him, Emilia. He is attacking me.” + </p> + <p> + “You surely do not think I was attacking Don Carlos!” Decoud answered. + </p> + <p> + And then the carriage stopped before the door of the Casa Gould. The young + man offered his hand to the ladies. They went in first together; Don Jose + walked by the side of Decoud, and the gouty old porter tottered after them + with some light wraps on his arm. + </p> + <p> + Don Jose slipped his hand under the arm of the journalist of Sulaco. + </p> + <p> + “The Porvenir must have a long and confident article upon Barrios and the + irresistibleness of his army of Cayta! The moral effect should be kept up + in the country. We must cable encouraging extracts to Europe and the + United States to maintain a favourable impression abroad.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud muttered, “Oh, yes, we must comfort our friends, the speculators.” + </p> + <p> + The long open gallery was in shadow, with its screen of plants in vases + along the balustrade, holding out motionless blossoms, and all the glass + doors of the reception-rooms thrown open. A jingle of spurs died out at + the further end. + </p> + <p> + Basilio, standing aside against the wall, said in a soft tone to the + passing ladies, “The Senor Administrador is just back from the mountain.” + </p> + <p> + In the great sala, with its groups of ancient Spanish and modern European + furniture making as if different centres under the high white spread of + the ceiling, the silver and porcelain of the tea-service gleamed among a + cluster of dwarf chairs, like a bit of a lady’s boudoir, putting in a note + of feminine and intimate delicacy. + </p> + <p> + Don Jose in his rocking-chair placed his hat on his lap, and Decoud walked + up and down the whole length of the room, passing between tables loaded + with knick-knacks and almost disappearing behind the high backs of + leathern sofas. He was thinking of the angry face of Antonia; he was + confident that he would make his peace with her. He had not stayed in + Sulaco to quarrel with Antonia. + </p> + <p> + Martin Decoud was angry with himself. All he saw and heard going on around + him exasperated the preconceived views of his European civilization. To + contemplate revolutions from the distance of the Parisian Boulevards was + quite another matter. Here on the spot it was not possible to dismiss + their tragic comedy with the expression, “<i>Quelle farce!</i>” + </p> + <p> + The reality of the political action, such as it was, seemed closer, and + acquired poignancy by Antonia’s belief in the cause. Its crudeness hurt + his feelings. He was surprised at his own sensitiveness. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I am more of a Costaguanero than I would have believed + possible,” he thought to himself. + </p> + <p> + His disdain grew like a reaction of his scepticism against the action into + which he was forced by his infatuation for Antonia. He soothed himself by + saying he was not a patriot, but a lover. + </p> + <p> + The ladies came in bareheaded, and Mrs. Gould sank low before the little + tea-table. Antonia took up her usual place at the reception hour—the + corner of a leathern couch, with a rigid grace in her pose and a fan in + her hand. Decoud, swerving from the straight line of his march, came to + lean over the high back of her seat. + </p> + <p> + For a long time he talked into her ear from behind, softly, with a half + smile and an air of apologetic familiarity. Her fan lay half grasped on + her knees. She never looked at him. His rapid utterance grew more and more + insistent and caressing. At last he ventured a slight laugh. + </p> + <p> + “No, really. You must forgive me. One must be serious sometimes.” He + paused. She turned her head a little; her blue eyes glided slowly towards + him, slightly upwards, mollified and questioning. + </p> + <p> + “You can’t think I am serious when I call Montero a gran’ bestia every + second day in the Porvenir? That is not a serious occupation. No + occupation is serious, not even when a bullet through the heart is the + penalty of failure!” + </p> + <p> + Her hand closed firmly on her fan. + </p> + <p> + “Some reason, you understand, I mean some sense, may creep into thinking; + some glimpse of truth. I mean some effective truth, for which there is no + room in politics or journalism. I happen to have said what I thought. And + you are angry! If you do me the kindness to think a little you will see + that I spoke like a patriot.” + </p> + <p> + She opened her red lips for the first time, not unkindly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you never see the aim. Men must be used as they are. I suppose + nobody is really disinterested, unless, perhaps, you, Don Martin.” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid! It’s the last thing I should like you to believe of me.” He + spoke lightly, and paused. + </p> + <p> + She began to fan herself with a slow movement without raising her hand. + After a time he whispered passionately— + </p> + <p> + “Antonia!” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, and extended her hand after the English manner towards Charles + Gould, who was bowing before her; while Decoud, with his elbows spread on + the back of the sofa, dropped his eyes and murmured, “Bonjour.” + </p> + <p> + The Senor Administrador of the San Tome mine bent over his wife for a + moment. They exchanged a few words, of which only the phrase, “The + greatest enthusiasm,” pronounced by Mrs. Gould, could be heard. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Decoud began in a murmur. “Even he!” + </p> + <p> + “This is sheer calumny,” said Antonia, not very severely. + </p> + <p> + “You just ask him to throw his mine into the melting-pot for the great + cause,” Decoud whispered. + </p> + <p> + Don Jose had raised his voice. He rubbed his hands cheerily. The excellent + aspect of the troops and the great quantity of new deadly rifles on the + shoulders of those brave men seemed to fill him with an ecstatic + confidence. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, very tall and thin before his chair, listened, but nothing + could be discovered in his face except a kind and deferential attention. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Antonia had risen, and, crossing the room, stood looking out of + one of the three long windows giving on the street. Decoud followed her. + The window was thrown open, and he leaned against the thickness of the + wall. The long folds of the damask curtain, falling straight from the + broad brass cornice, hid him partly from the room. He folded his arms on + his breast, and looked steadily at Antonia’s profile. + </p> + <p> + The people returning from the harbour filled the pavements; the shuffle of + sandals and a low murmur of voices ascended to the window. Now and then a + coach rolled slowly along the disjointed roadway of the Calle de la + Constitucion. There were not many private carriages in Sulaco; at the most + crowded hour on the Alameda they could be counted with one glance of the + eye. The great family arks swayed on high leathern springs, full of pretty + powdered faces in which the eyes looked intensely alive and black. And + first Don Juste Lopez, the President of the Provincial Assembly, passed + with his three lovely daughters, solemn in a black frock-coat and stiff + white tie, as when directing a debate from a high tribune. Though they all + raised their eyes, Antonia did not make the usual greeting gesture of a + fluttered hand, and they affected not to see the two young people, + Costaguaneros with European manners, whose eccentricities were discussed + behind the barred windows of the first families in Sulaco. And then the + widowed Senora Gavilaso de Valdes rolled by, handsome and dignified, in a + great machine in which she used to travel to and from her country house, + surrounded by an armed retinue in leather suits and big sombreros, with + carbines at the bows of their saddles. She was a woman of most + distinguished family, proud, rich, and kind-hearted. Her second son, + Jaime, had just gone off on the Staff of Barrios. The eldest, a worthless + fellow of a moody disposition, filled Sulaco with the noise of his + dissipations, and gambled heavily at the club. The two youngest boys, with + yellow Ribierist cockades in their caps, sat on the front seat. She, too, + affected not to see the Senor Decoud talking publicly with Antonia in + defiance of every convention. And he not even her novio as far as the + world knew! Though, even in that case, it would have been scandal enough. + But the dignified old lady, respected and admired by the first families, + would have been still more shocked if she could have heard the words they + were exchanging. + </p> + <p> + “Did you say I lost sight of the aim? I have only one aim in the world.” + </p> + <p> + She made an almost imperceptible negative movement of her head, still + staring across the street at the Avellanos’s house, grey, marked with + decay, and with iron bars like a prison. + </p> + <p> + “And it would be so easy of attainment,” he continued, “this aim which, + whether knowingly or not, I have always had in my heart—ever since + the day when you snubbed me so horribly once in Paris, you remember.” + </p> + <p> + A slight smile seemed to move the corner of the lip that was on his side. + </p> + <p> + “You know you were a very terrible person, a sort of Charlotte Corday in a + schoolgirl’s dress; a ferocious patriot. I suppose you would have stuck a + knife into Guzman Bento?” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted him. “You do me too much honour.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate,” he said, changing suddenly to a tone of bitter levity, “you + would have sent me to stab him without compunction.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Ah, par exemple!</i>” she murmured in a shocked tone. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he argued, mockingly, “you do keep me here writing deadly + nonsense. Deadly to me! It has already killed my self-respect. And you may + imagine,” he continued, his tone passing into light banter, “that Montero, + should he be successful, would get even with me in the only way such a + brute can get even with a man of intelligence who condescends to call him + a gran’ bestia three times a week. It’s a sort of intellectual death; but + there is the other one in the background for a journalist of my ability.” + </p> + <p> + “If he is successful!” said Antonia, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “You seem satisfied to see my life hang on a thread,” Decoud replied, with + a broad smile. “And the other Montero, the ‘my trusted brother’ of the + proclamations, the guerrillero—haven’t I written that he was taking + the guests’ overcoats and changing plates in Paris at our Legation in the + intervals of spying on our refugees there, in the time of Rojas? He will + wash out that sacred truth in blood. In my blood! Why do you look annoyed? + This is simply a bit of the biography of one of our great men. What do you + think he will do to me? There is a certain convent wall round the corner + of the Plaza, opposite the door of the Bull Ring. You know? Opposite the + door with the inscription, <i>Intrada de la Sombra</i>.’ Appropriate, + perhaps! That’s where the uncle of our host gave up his + Anglo-South-American soul. And, note, he might have run away. A man who + has fought with weapons may run away. You might have let me go with + Barrios if you had cared for me. I would have carried one of those rifles, + in which Don Jose believes, with the greatest satisfaction, in the ranks + of poor peons and Indios, that know nothing either of reason or politics. + The most forlorn hope in the most forlorn army on earth would have been + safer than that for which you made me stay here. When you make war you may + retreat, but not when you spend your time in inciting poor ignorant fools + to kill and to die.” + </p> + <p> + His tone remained light, and as if unaware of his presence she stood + motionless, her hands clasped lightly, the fan hanging down from her + interlaced fingers. He waited for a while, and then— + </p> + <p> + “I shall go to the wall,” he said, with a sort of jocular desperation. + </p> + <p> + Even that declaration did not make her look at him. Her head remained + still, her eyes fixed upon the house of the Avellanos, whose chipped + pilasters, broken cornices, the whole degradation of dignity was hidden + now by the gathering dusk of the street. In her whole figure her lips + alone moved, forming the words— + </p> + <p> + “Martin, you will make me cry.” + </p> + <p> + He remained silent for a minute, startled, as if overwhelmed by a sort of + awed happiness, with the lines of the mocking smile still stiffened about + his mouth, and incredulous surprise in his eyes. The value of a sentence + is in the personality which utters it, for nothing new can be said by man + or woman; and those were the last words, it seemed to him, that could ever + have been spoken by Antonia. He had never made it up with her so + completely in all their intercourse of small encounters; but even before + she had time to turn towards him, which she did slowly with a rigid grace, + he had begun to plead— + </p> + <p> + “My sister is only waiting to embrace you. My father is transported with + joy. I won’t say anything of my mother! Our mothers were like sisters. + There is the mail-boat for the south next week—let us go. That + Moraga is a fool! A man like Montero is bribed. It’s the practice of the + country. It’s tradition—it’s politics. Read ‘Fifty Years of + Misrule.’” + </p> + <p> + “Leave poor papa alone, Don Martin. He believes—” + </p> + <p> + “I have the greatest tenderness for your father,” he began, hurriedly. + “But I love you, Antonia! And Moraga has miserably mismanaged this + business. Perhaps your father did, too; I don’t know. Montero was + bribeable. Why, I suppose he only wanted his share of this famous loan for + national development. Why didn’t the stupid Sta. Marta people give him a + mission to Europe, or something? He would have taken five years’ salary in + advance, and gone on loafing in Paris, this stupid, ferocious Indio!” + </p> + <p> + “The man,” she said, thoughtfully, and very calm before this outburst, + “was intoxicated with vanity. We had all the information, not from Moraga + only; from others, too. There was his brother intriguing, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” he said. “Of course you know. You know everything. You read all + the correspondence, you write all the papers—all those State papers + that are inspired here, in this room, in blind deference to a theory of + political purity. Hadn’t you Charles Gould before your eyes? Rey de + Sulaco! He and his mine are the practical demonstration of what could have + been done. Do you think he succeeded by his fidelity to a theory of + virtue? And all those railway people, with their honest work! Of course, + their work is honest! But what if you cannot work honestly till the + thieves are satisfied? Could he not, a gentleman, have told this Sir John + what’s-his-name that Montero had to be bought off—he and all his + Negro Liberals hanging on to his gold-laced sleeve? He ought to have been + bought off with his own stupid weight of gold—his weight of gold, I + tell you, boots, sabre, spurs, cocked hat, and all.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head slightly. “It was impossible,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “He wanted the whole lot? What?” + </p> + <p> + She was facing him now in the deep recess of the window, very close and + motionless. Her lips moved rapidly. Decoud, leaning his back against the + wall, listened with crossed arms and lowered eyelids. He drank the tones + of her even voice, and watched the agitated life of her throat, as if + waves of emotion had run from her heart to pass out into the air in her + reasonable words. He also had his aspirations, he aspired to carry her + away out of these deadly futilities of pronunciamientos and reforms. All + this was wrong—utterly wrong; but she fascinated him, and sometimes + the sheer sagacity of a phrase would break the charm, replace the + fascination by a sudden unwilling thrill of interest. Some women hovered, + as it were, on the threshold of genius, he reflected. They did not want to + know, or think, or understand. Passion stood for all that, and he was + ready to believe that some startlingly profound remark, some appreciation + of character, or a judgment upon an event, bordered on the miraculous. In + the mature Antonia he could see with an extraordinary vividness the + austere schoolgirl of the earlier days. She seduced his attention; + sometimes he could not restrain a murmur of assent; now and then he + advanced an objection quite seriously. Gradually they began to argue; the + curtain half hid them from the people in the sala. + </p> + <p> + Outside it had grown dark. From the deep trench of shadow between the + houses, lit up vaguely by the glimmer of street lamps, ascended the + evening silence of Sulaco; the silence of a town with few carriages, of + unshod horses, and a softly sandalled population. The windows of the Casa + Gould flung their shining parallelograms upon the house of the Avellanos. + Now and then a shuffle of feet passed below with the pulsating red glow of + a cigarette at the foot of the walls; and the night air, as if cooled by + the snows of Higuerota, refreshed their faces. + </p> + <p> + “We Occidentals,” said Martin Decoud, using the usual term the provincials + of Sulaco applied to themselves, “have been always distinct and separated. + As long as we hold Cayta nothing can reach us. In all our troubles no army + has marched over those mountains. A revolution in the central provinces + isolates us at once. Look how complete it is now! The news of Barrios’ + movement will be cabled to the United States, and only in that way will it + reach Sta. Marta by the cable from the other seaboard. We have the + greatest riches, the greatest fertility, the purest blood in our great + families, the most laborious population. The Occidental Province should + stand alone. The early Federalism was not bad for us. Then came this union + which Don Henrique Gould resisted. It opened the road to tyranny; and, + ever since, the rest of Costaguana hangs like a millstone round our necks. + The Occidental territory is large enough to make any man’s country. Look + at the mountains! Nature itself seems to cry to us, ‘Separate!’” + </p> + <p> + She made an energetic gesture of negation. A silence fell. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I know it’s contrary to the doctrine laid down in the ‘History + of Fifty Years’ Misrule.’ I am only trying to be sensible. But my sense + seems always to give you cause for offence. Have I startled you very much + with this perfectly reasonable aspiration?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. No, she was not startled, but the idea shocked her + early convictions. Her patriotism was larger. She had never considered + that possibility. + </p> + <p> + “It may yet be the means of saving some of your convictions,” he said, + prophetically. + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. She seemed tired. They leaned side by side on the rail + of the little balcony, very friendly, having exhausted politics, giving + themselves up to the silent feeling of their nearness, in one of those + profound pauses that fall upon the rhythm of passion. Towards the plaza + end of the street the glowing coals in the brazeros of the market women + cooking their evening meal gleamed red along the edge of the pavement. A + man appeared without a sound in the light of a street lamp, showing the + coloured inverted triangle of his bordered poncho, square on his + shoulders, hanging to a point below his knees. From the harbour end of the + Calle a horseman walked his soft-stepping mount, gleaming silver-grey + abreast each lamp under the dark shape of the rider. + </p> + <p> + “Behold the illustrious Capataz de Cargadores,” said Decoud, gently, + “coming in all his splendour after his work is done. The next great man of + Sulaco after Don Carlos Gould. But he is good-natured, and let me make + friends with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, indeed!” said Antonia. “How did you make friends?” + </p> + <p> + “A journalist ought to have his finger on the popular pulse, and this man + is one of the leaders of the populace. A journalist ought to know + remarkable men—and this man is remarkable in his way.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes!” said Antonia, thoughtfully. “It is known that this Italian has + a great influence.” + </p> + <p> + The horseman had passed below them, with a gleam of dim light on the + shining broad quarters of the grey mare, on a bright heavy stirrup, on a + long silver spur; but the short flick of yellowish flame in the dusk was + powerless against the muffled-up mysteriousness of the dark figure with an + invisible face concealed by a great sombrero. + </p> + <p> + Decoud and Antonia remained leaning over the balcony, side by side, + touching elbows, with their heads overhanging the darkness of the street, + and the brilliantly lighted sala at their backs. This was a tete-a-tete of + extreme impropriety; something of which in the whole extent of the + Republic only the extraordinary Antonia could be capable—the poor, + motherless girl, never accompanied, with a careless father, who had + thought only of making her learned. Even Decoud himself seemed to feel + that this was as much as he could expect of having her to himself till—till + the revolution was over and he could carry her off to Europe, away from + the endlessness of civil strife, whose folly seemed even harder to bear + than its ignominy. After one Montero there would be another, the + lawlessness of a populace of all colours and races, barbarism, + irremediable tyranny. As the great Liberator Bolivar had said in the + bitterness of his spirit, “America is ungovernable. Those who worked for + her independence have ploughed the sea.” He did not care, he declared + boldly; he seized every opportunity to tell her that though she had + managed to make a Blanco journalist of him, he was no patriot. First of + all, the word had no sense for cultured minds, to whom the narrowness of + every belief is odious; and secondly, in connection with the everlasting + troubles of this unhappy country it was hopelessly besmirched; it had been + the cry of dark barbarism, the cloak of lawlessness, of crimes, of + rapacity, of simple thieving. + </p> + <p> + He was surprised at the warmth of his own utterance. He had no need to + drop his voice; it had been low all the time, a mere murmur in the silence + of dark houses with their shutters closed early against the night air, as + is the custom of Sulaco. Only the sala of the Casa Gould flung out + defiantly the blaze of its four windows, the bright appeal of light in the + whole dumb obscurity of the street. And the murmur on the little balcony + went on after a short pause. + </p> + <p> + “But we are labouring to change all that,” Antonia protested. “It is + exactly what we desire. It is our object. It is the great cause. And the + word you despise has stood also for sacrifice, for courage, for constancy, + for suffering. Papa, who—” + </p> + <p> + “Ploughing the sea,” interrupted Decoud, looking down. + </p> + <p> + There was below the sound of hasty and ponderous footsteps. + </p> + <p> + “Your uncle, the grand-vicar of the cathedral, has just turned under the + gate,” observed Decoud. “He said Mass for the troops in the Plaza this + morning. They had built for him an altar of drums, you know. And they + brought outside all the painted blocks to take the air. All the wooden + saints stood militarily in a row at the top of the great flight of steps. + They looked like a gorgeous escort attending the Vicar-General. I saw the + great function from the windows of the Porvenir. He is amazing, your + uncle, the last of the Corbelans. He glittered exceedingly in his + vestments with a great crimson velvet cross down his back. And all the + time our saviour Barrios sat in the Amarilla Club drinking punch at an + open window. Esprit fort—our Barrios. I expected every moment your + uncle to launch an excommunication there and then at the black eye-patch + in the window across the Plaza. But not at all. Ultimately the troops + marched off. Later Barrios came down with some of the officers, and stood + with his uniform all unbuttoned, discoursing at the edge of the pavement. + Suddenly your uncle appeared, no longer glittering, but all black, at the + cathedral door with that threatening aspect he has—you know, like a + sort of avenging spirit. He gives one look, strides over straight at the + group of uniforms, and leads away the general by the elbow. He walked him + for a quarter of an hour in the shade of a wall. Never let go his elbow + for a moment, talking all the time with exaltation, and gesticulating with + a long black arm. It was a curious scene. The officers seemed struck with + astonishment. Remarkable man, your missionary uncle. He hates an infidel + much less than a heretic, and prefers a heathen many times to an infidel. + He condescends graciously to call me a heathen, sometimes, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Antonia listened with her hands over the balustrade, opening and shutting + the fan gently; and Decoud talked a little nervously, as if afraid that + she would leave him at the first pause. Their comparative isolation, the + precious sense of intimacy, the slight contact of their arms, affected him + softly; for now and then a tender inflection crept into the flow of his + ironic murmurs. + </p> + <p> + “Any slight sign of favour from a relative of yours is welcome, Antonia. + And perhaps he understands me, after all! But I know him, too, our Padre + Corbelan. The idea of political honour, justice, and honesty for him + consists in the restitution of the confiscated Church property. Nothing + else could have drawn that fierce converter of savage Indians out of the + wilds to work for the Ribierist cause! Nothing else but that wild hope! He + would make a pronunciamiento himself for such an object against any + Government if he could only get followers! What does Don Carlos Gould + think of that? But, of course, with his English impenetrability, nobody + can tell what he thinks. Probably he thinks of nothing apart from his + mine; of his ‘Imperium in Imperio.’ As to Mrs. Gould, she thinks of her + schools, of her hospitals, of the mothers with the young babies, of every + sick old man in the three villages. If you were to turn your head now you + would see her extracting a report from that sinister doctor in a check + shirt—what’s his name? Monygham—or else catechising Don Pepe + or perhaps listening to Padre Roman. They are all down here to-day—all + her ministers of state. Well, she is a sensible woman, and perhaps Don + Carlos is a sensible man. It’s a part of solid English sense not to think + too much; to see only what may be of practical use at the moment. These + people are not like ourselves. We have no political reason; we have + political passions—sometimes. What is a conviction? A particular + view of our personal advantage either practical or emotional. No one is a + patriot for nothing. The word serves us well. But I am clear-sighted, and + I shall not use that word to you, Antonia! I have no patriotic illusions. + I have only the supreme illusion of a lover.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, then muttered almost inaudibly, “That can lead one very far, + though.” + </p> + <p> + Behind their backs the political tide that once in every twenty-four hours + set with a strong flood through the Gould drawing-room could be heard, + rising higher in a hum of voices. Men had been dropping in singly, or in + twos and threes: the higher officials of the province, engineers of the + railway, sunburnt and in tweeds, with the frosted head of their chief + smiling with slow, humorous indulgence amongst the young eager faces. + Scarfe, the lover of fandangos, had already slipped out in search of some + dance, no matter where, on the outskirts of the town. Don Juste Lopez, + after taking his daughters home, had entered solemnly, in a black creased + coat buttoned up under his spreading brown beard. The few members of the + Provincial Assembly present clustered at once around their President to + discuss the news of the war and the last proclamation of the rebel + Montero, the miserable Montero, calling in the name of “a justly incensed + democracy” upon all the Provincial Assemblies of the Republic to suspend + their sittings till his sword had made peace and the will of the people + could be consulted. It was practically an invitation to dissolve: an + unheard-of audacity of that evil madman. + </p> + <p> + The indignation ran high in the knot of deputies behind Jose Avellanos. + Don Jose, lifting up his voice, cried out to them over the high back of + his chair, “Sulaco has answered by sending to-day an army upon his flank. + If all the other provinces show only half as much patriotism as we + Occidentals—” + </p> + <p> + A great outburst of acclamations covered the vibrating treble of the life + and soul of the party. Yes! Yes! This was true! A great truth! Sulaco was + in the forefront, as ever! It was a boastful tumult, the hopefulness + inspired by the event of the day breaking out amongst those caballeros of + the Campo thinking of their herds, of their lands, of the safety of their + families. Everything was at stake. . . . No! It was impossible that + Montero should succeed! This criminal, this shameless Indio! The clamour + continued for some time, everybody else in the room looking towards the + group where Don Juste had put on his air of impartial solemnity as if + presiding at a sitting of the Provincial Assembly. Decoud had turned round + at the noise, and, leaning his back on the balustrade, shouted into the + room with all the strength of his lungs, “Gran’ bestia!” + </p> + <p> + This unexpected cry had the effect of stilling the noise. All the eyes + were directed to the window with an approving expectation; but Decoud had + already turned his back upon the room, and was again leaning out over the + quiet street. + </p> + <p> + “This is the quintessence of my journalism; that is the supreme argument,” + he said to Antonia. “I have invented this definition, this last word on a + great question. But I am no patriot. I am no more of a patriot than the + Capataz of the Sulaco Cargadores, this Genoese who has done such great + things for this harbour—this active usher-in of the material + implements for our progress. You have heard Captain Mitchell confess over + and over again that till he got this man he could never tell how long it + would take to unload a ship. That is bad for progress. You have seen him + pass by after his labours on his famous horse to dazzle the girls in some + ballroom with an earthen floor. He is a fortunate fellow! His work is an + exercise of personal powers; his leisure is spent in receiving the marks + of extraordinary adulation. And he likes it, too. Can anybody be more + fortunate? To be feared and admired is—” + </p> + <p> + “And are these your highest aspirations, Don Martin?” interrupted Antonia. + </p> + <p> + “I was speaking of a man of that sort,” said Decoud, curtly. “The heroes + of the world have been feared and admired. What more could he want?” + </p> + <p> + Decoud had often felt his familiar habit of ironic thought fall shattered + against Antonia’s gravity. She irritated him as if she, too, had suffered + from that inexplicable feminine obtuseness which stands so often between a + man and a woman of the more ordinary sort. But he overcame his vexation at + once. He was very far from thinking Antonia ordinary, whatever verdict his + scepticism might have pronounced upon himself. With a touch of penetrating + tenderness in his voice he assured her that his only aspiration was to a + felicity so high that it seemed almost unrealizable on this earth. + </p> + <p> + She coloured invisibly, with a warmth against which the breeze from the + sierra seemed to have lost its cooling power in the sudden melting of the + snows. His whisper could not have carried so far, though there was enough + ardour in his tone to melt a heart of ice. Antonia turned away abruptly, + as if to carry his whispered assurance into the room behind, full of + light, noisy with voices. + </p> + <p> + The tide of political speculation was beating high within the four walls + of the great sala, as if driven beyond the marks by a great gust of hope. + Don Juste’s fan-shaped beard was still the centre of loud and animated + discussions. There was a self-confident ring in all the voices. Even the + few Europeans around Charles Gould—a Dane, a couple of Frenchmen, a + discreet fat German, smiling, with down-cast eyes, the representatives of + those material interests that had got a footing in Sulaco under the + protecting might of the San Tome mine—had infused a lot of good + humour into their deference. Charles Gould, to whom they were paying their + court, was the visible sign of the stability that could be achieved on the + shifting ground of revolutions. They felt hopeful about their various + undertakings. One of the two Frenchmen, small, black, with glittering eyes + lost in an immense growth of bushy beard, waved his tiny brown hands and + delicate wrists. He had been travelling in the interior of the province + for a syndicate of European capitalists. His forcible “<i>Monsieur + l’Administrateur</i>” returning every minute shrilled above the steady hum + of conversations. He was relating his discoveries. He was ecstatic. + Charles Gould glanced down at him courteously. + </p> + <p> + At a given moment of these necessary receptions it was Mrs. Gould’s habit + to withdraw quietly into a little drawing-room, especially her own, next + to the great sala. She had risen, and, waiting for Antonia, listened with + a slightly worried graciousness to the engineer-in-chief of the railway, + who stooped over her, relating slowly, without the slightest gesture, + something apparently amusing, for his eyes had a humorous twinkle. + Antonia, before she advanced into the room to join Mrs. Gould, turned her + head over her shoulder towards Decoud, only for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Why should any one of us think his aspirations unrealizable?” she said, + rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to cling to mine to the end, Antonia,” he answered, through + clenched teeth, then bowed very low, a little distantly. + </p> + <p> + The engineer-in-chief had not finished telling his amusing story. The + humours of railway building in South America appealed to his keen + appreciation of the absurd, and he told his instances of ignorant + prejudice and as ignorant cunning very well. Now, Mrs. Gould gave him all + her attention as he walked by her side escorting the ladies out of the + room. Finally all three passed unnoticed through the glass doors in the + gallery. Only a tall priest stalking silently in the noise of the sala + checked himself to look after them. Father Corbelan, whom Decoud had seen + from the balcony turning into the gateway of the Casa Gould, had addressed + no one since coming in. The long, skimpy soutane accentuated the tallness + of his stature; he carried his powerful torso thrown forward; and the + straight, black bar of his joined eyebrows, the pugnacious outline of the + bony face, the white spot of a scar on the bluish shaven cheeks (a + testimonial to his apostolic zeal from a party of unconverted Indians), + suggested something unlawful behind his priesthood, the idea of a chaplain + of bandits. + </p> + <p> + He separated his bony, knotted hands clasped behind his back, to shake his + finger at Martin. + </p> + <p> + Decoud had stepped into the room after Antonia. But he did not go far. He + had remained just within, against the curtain, with an expression of not + quite genuine gravity, like a grown-up person taking part in a game of + children. He gazed quietly at the threatening finger. + </p> + <p> + “I have watched your reverence converting General Barrios by a special + sermon on the Plaza,” he said, without making the slightest movement. + </p> + <p> + “What miserable nonsense!” Father Corbelan’s deep voice resounded all over + the room, making all the heads turn on the shoulders. “The man is a + drunkard. Senores, the God of your General is a bottle!” + </p> + <p> + His contemptuous, arbitrary voice caused an uneasy suspension of every + sound, as if the self-confidence of the gathering had been staggered by a + blow. But nobody took up Father Corbelan’s declaration. + </p> + <p> + It was known that Father Corbelan had come out of the wilds to advocate + the sacred rights of the Church with the same fanatical fearlessness with + which he had gone preaching to bloodthirsty savages, devoid of human + compassion or worship of any kind. Rumours of legendary proportions told + of his successes as a missionary beyond the eye of Christian men. He had + baptized whole nations of Indians, living with them like a savage himself. + It was related that the padre used to ride with his Indians for days, half + naked, carrying a bullock-hide shield, and, no doubt, a long lance, too—who + knows? That he had wandered clothed in skins, seeking for proselytes + somewhere near the snow line of the Cordillera. Of these exploits Padre + Corbelan himself was never known to talk. But he made no secret of his + opinion that the politicians of Sta. Marta had harder hearts and more + corrupt minds than the heathen to whom he had carried the word of God. His + injudicious zeal for the temporal welfare of the Church was damaging the + Ribierist cause. It was common knowledge that he had refused to be made + titular bishop of the Occidental diocese till justice was done to a + despoiled Church. The political Gefe of Sulaco (the same dignitary whom + Captain Mitchell saved from the mob afterwards) hinted with naive cynicism + that doubtless their Excellencies the Ministers sent the padre over the + mountains to Sulaco in the worst season of the year in the hope that he + would be frozen to death by the icy blasts of the high paramos. Every year + a few hardy muleteers—men inured to exposure—were known to + perish in that way. But what would you have? Their Excellencies possibly + had not realized what a tough priest he was. Meantime, the ignorant were + beginning to murmur that the Ribierist reforms meant simply the taking + away of the land from the people. Some of it was to be given to foreigners + who made the railway; the greater part was to go to the padres. + </p> + <p> + These were the results of the Grand Vicar’s zeal. Even from the short + allocution to the troops on the Plaza (which only the first ranks could + have heard) he had not been able to keep out his fixed idea of an outraged + Church waiting for reparation from a penitent country. The political Gefe + had been exasperated. But he could not very well throw the brother-in-law + of Don Jose into the prison of the Cabildo. The chief magistrate, an + easy-going and popular official, visited the Casa Gould, walking over + after sunset from the Intendencia, unattended, acknowledging with + dignified courtesy the salutations of high and low alike. That evening he + had walked up straight to Charles Gould and had hissed out to him that he + would have liked to deport the Grand Vicar out of Sulaco, anywhere, to + some desert island, to the Isabels, for instance. “The one without water + preferably—eh, Don Carlos?” he had added in a tone between jest and + earnest. This uncontrollable priest, who had rejected his offer of the + episcopal palace for a residence and preferred to hang his shabby hammock + amongst the rubble and spiders of the sequestrated Dominican Convent, had + taken into his head to advocate an unconditional pardon for Hernandez the + Robber! And this was not enough; he seemed to have entered into + communication with the most audacious criminal the country had known for + years. The Sulaco police knew, of course, what was going on. Padre + Corbelan had got hold of that reckless Italian, the Capataz de Cargadores, + the only man fit for such an errand, and had sent a message through him. + Father Corbelan had studied in Rome, and could speak Italian. The Capataz + was known to visit the old Dominican Convent at night. An old woman who + served the Grand Vicar had heard the name of Hernandez pronounced; and + only last Saturday afternoon the Capataz had been observed galloping out + of town. He did not return for two days. The police would have laid the + Italian by the heels if it had not been for fear of the Cargadores, a + turbulent body of men, quite apt to raise a tumult. Nowadays it was not so + easy to govern Sulaco. Bad characters flocked into it, attracted by the + money in the pockets of the railway workmen. The populace was made + restless by Father Corbelan’s discourses. And the first magistrate + explained to Charles Gould that now the province was stripped of troops + any outbreak of lawlessness would find the authorities with their boots + off, as it were. + </p> + <p> + Then he went away moodily to sit in an armchair, smoking a long, thin + cigar, not very far from Don Jose, with whom, bending over sideways, he + exchanged a few words from time to time. He ignored the entrance of the + priest, and whenever Father Corbelan’s voice was raised behind him, he + shrugged his shoulders impatiently. + </p> + <p> + Father Corbelan had remained quite motionless for a time with that + something vengeful in his immobility which seemed to characterize all his + attitudes. A lurid glow of strong convictions gave its peculiar aspect to + the black figure. But its fierceness became softened as the padre, fixing + his eyes upon Decoud, raised his long, black arm slowly, impressively— + </p> + <p> + “And you—you are a perfect heathen,” he said, in a subdued, deep + voice. + </p> + <p> + He made a step nearer, pointing a forefinger at the young man’s breast. + Decoud, very calm, felt the wall behind the curtain with the back of his + head. Then, with his chin tilted well up, he smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he agreed with the slightly weary nonchalance of a man well + used to these passages. “But is it perhaps that you have not discovered + yet what is the God of my worship? It was an easier task with our + Barrios.” + </p> + <p> + The priest suppressed a gesture of discouragement. “You believe neither in + stick nor stone,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Nor bottle,” added Decoud without stirring. “Neither does the other of + your reverence’s confidants. I mean the Capataz of the Cargadores. He does + not drink. Your reading of my character does honour to your perspicacity. + But why call me a heathen?” + </p> + <p> + “True,” retorted the priest. “You are ten times worse. A miracle could not + convert you.” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly do not believe in miracles,” said Decoud, quietly. Father + Corbelan shrugged his high, broad shoulders doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “A sort of Frenchman—godless—a materialist,” he pronounced + slowly, as if weighing the terms of a careful analysis. “Neither the son + of his own country nor of any other,” he continued, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely human, in fact,” Decoud commented under his breath, his head at + rest against the wall, his eyes gazing up at the ceiling. + </p> + <p> + “The victim of this faithless age,” Father Corbelan resumed in a deep but + subdued voice. + </p> + <p> + “But of some use as a journalist.” Decoud changed his pose and spoke in a + more animated tone. “Has your worship neglected to read the last number of + the Porvenir? I assure you it is just like the others. On the general + policy it continues to call Montero a gran’ bestia, and stigmatize his + brother, the guerrillero, for a combination of lackey and spy. What could + be more effective? In local affairs it urges the Provincial Government to + enlist bodily into the national army the band of Hernandez the Robber—who + is apparently the protege of the Church—or at least of the Grand + Vicar. Nothing could be more sound.” + </p> + <p> + The priest nodded and turned on the heels of his square-toed shoes with + big steel buckles. Again, with his hands clasped behind his back, he paced + to and fro, planting his feet firmly. When he swung about, the skirt of + his soutane was inflated slightly by the brusqueness of his movements. + </p> + <p> + The great sala had been emptying itself slowly. When the Gefe Politico + rose to go, most of those still remaining stood up suddenly in sign of + respect, and Don Jose Avellanos stopped the rocking of his chair. But the + good-natured First Official made a deprecatory gesture, waved his hand to + Charles Gould, and went out discreetly. + </p> + <p> + In the comparative peace of the room the screaming “Monsieur + l’Administrateur” of the frail, hairy Frenchman seemed to acquire a + preternatural shrillness. The explorer of the Capitalist syndicate was + still enthusiastic. “Ten million dollars’ worth of copper practically in + sight, Monsieur l’Administrateur. Ten millions in sight! And a railway + coming—a railway! They will never believe my report. C’est trop + beau.” He fell a prey to a screaming ecstasy, in the midst of sagely + nodding heads, before Charles Gould’s imperturbable calm. + </p> + <p> + And only the priest continued his pacing, flinging round the skirt of his + soutane at each end of his beat. Decoud murmured to him ironically: “Those + gentlemen talk about their gods.” + </p> + <p> + Father Corbelan stopped short, looked at the journalist of Sulaco fixedly + for a moment, shrugged his shoulders slightly, and resumed his plodding + walk of an obstinate traveller. + </p> + <p> + And now the Europeans were dropping off from the group around Charles + Gould till the Administrador of the Great Silver Mine could be seen in his + whole lank length, from head to foot, left stranded by the ebbing tide of + his guests on the great square of carpet, as it were a multi-coloured + shoal of flowers and arabesques under his brown boots. Father Corbelan + approached the rocking-chair of Don Jose Avellanos. + </p> + <p> + “Come, brother,” he said, with kindly brusqueness and a touch of relieved + impatience a man may feel at the end of a perfectly useless ceremony. “A + la Casa! A la Casa! This has been all talk. Let us now go and think and + pray for guidance from Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + He rolled his black eyes upwards. By the side of the frail diplomatist—the + life and soul of the party—he seemed gigantic, with a gleam of + fanaticism in the glance. But the voice of the party, or, rather, its + mouthpiece, the “son Decoud” from Paris, turned journalist for the sake of + Antonia’s eyes, knew very well that it was not so, that he was only a + strenuous priest with one idea, feared by the women and execrated by the + men of the people. Martin Decoud, the dilettante in life, imagined himself + to derive an artistic pleasure from watching the picturesque extreme of + wrongheadedness into which an honest, almost sacred, conviction may drive + a man. “It is like madness. It must be—because it’s + self-destructive,” Decoud had said to himself often. It seemed to him that + every conviction, as soon as it became effective, turned into that form of + dementia the gods send upon those they wish to destroy. But he enjoyed the + bitter flavour of that example with the zest of a connoisseur in the art + of his choice. Those two men got on well together, as if each had felt + respectively that a masterful conviction, as well as utter scepticism, may + lead a man very far on the by-paths of political action. + </p> + <p> + Don Jose obeyed the touch of the big hairy hand. Decoud followed out the + brothers-in-law. And there remained only one visitor in the vast empty + sala, bluishly hazy with tobacco smoke, a heavy-eyed, round-cheeked man, + with a drooping moustache, a hide merchant from Esmeralda, who had come + overland to Sulaco, riding with a few peons across the coast range. He was + very full of his journey, undertaken mostly for the purpose of seeing the + Senor Administrador of San Tome in relation to some assistance he required + in his hide-exporting business. He hoped to enlarge it greatly now that + the country was going to be settled. It was going to be settled, he + repeated several times, degrading by a strange, anxious whine the sonority + of the Spanish language, which he pattered rapidly, like some sort of + cringing jargon. A plain man could carry on his little business now in the + country, and even think of enlarging it—with safety. Was it not so? + He seemed to beg Charles Gould for a confirmatory word, a grunt of assent, + a simple nod even. + </p> + <p> + He could get nothing. His alarm increased, and in the pauses he would dart + his eyes here and there; then, loth to give up, he would branch off into + feeling allusion to the dangers of his journey. The audacious Hernandez, + leaving his usual haunts, had crossed the Campo of Sulaco, and was known + to be lurking in the ravines of the coast range. Yesterday, when distant + only a few hours from Sulaco, the hide merchant and his servants had seen + three men on the road arrested suspiciously, with their horses’ heads + together. Two of these rode off at once and disappeared in a shallow + quebrada to the left. “We stopped,” continued the man from Esmeralda, “and + I tried to hide behind a small bush. But none of my mozos would go forward + to find out what it meant, and the third horseman seemed to be waiting for + us to come up. It was no use. We had been seen. So we rode slowly on, + trembling. He let us pass—a man on a grey horse with his hat down on + his eyes—without a word of greeting; but by-and-by we heard him + galloping after us. We faced about, but that did not seem to intimidate + him. He rode up at speed, and touching my foot with the toe of his boot, + asked me for a cigar, with a blood-curdling laugh. He did not seem armed, + but when he put his hand back to reach for the matches I saw an enormous + revolver strapped to his waist. I shuddered. He had very fierce whiskers, + Don Carlos, and as he did not offer to go on we dared not move. At last, + blowing the smoke of my cigar into the air through his nostrils, he said, + ‘Senor, it would be perhaps better for you if I rode behind your party. + You are not very far from Sulaco now. Go you with God.’ What would you? We + went on. There was no resisting him. He might have been Hernandez himself; + though my servant, who has been many times to Sulaco by sea, assured me + that he had recognized him very well for the Capataz of the Steamship + Company’s Cargadores. Later, that same evening, I saw that very man at the + corner of the Plaza talking to a girl, a Morenita, who stood by the + stirrup with her hand on the grey horse’s mane.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, Senor Hirsch,” murmured Charles Gould, “that you ran no + risk on this occasion.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be, senor, though I tremble yet. A most fierce man—to look + at. And what does it mean? A person employed by the Steamship Company + talking with salteadores—no less, senor; the other horsemen were + salteadores—in a lonely place, and behaving like a robber himself! A + cigar is nothing, but what was there to prevent him asking me for my + purse?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Senor Hirsch,” Charles Gould murmured, letting his glance stray + away a little vacantly from the round face, with its hooked beak upturned + towards him in an almost childlike appeal. “If it was the Capataz de + Cargadores you met—and there is no doubt, is there?—you were + perfectly safe.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. You are very good. A very fierce-looking man, Don Carlos. He + asked me for a cigar in a most familiar manner. What would have happened + if I had not had a cigar? I shudder yet. What business had he to be + talking with robbers in a lonely place?” + </p> + <p> + But Charles Gould, openly preoccupied now, gave not a sign, made no sound. + The impenetrability of the embodied Gould Concession had its surface + shades. To be dumb is merely a fatal affliction; but the King of Sulaco + had words enough to give him all the mysterious weight of a taciturn + force. His silences, backed by the power of speech, had as many shades of + significance as uttered words in the way of assent, of doubt, of negation—even + of simple comment. Some seemed to say plainly, “Think it over”; others + meant clearly, “Go ahead”; a simple, low “I see,” with an affirmative nod, + at the end of a patient listening half-hour was the equivalent of a verbal + contract, which men had learned to trust implicitly, since behind it all + there was the great San Tome mine, the head and front of the material + interests, so strong that it depended on no man’s goodwill in the whole + length and breadth of the Occidental Province—that is, on no + goodwill which it could not buy ten times over. But to the little + hook-nosed man from Esmeralda, anxious about the export of hides, the + silence of Charles Gould portended a failure. Evidently this was no time + for extending a modest man’s business. He enveloped in a swift mental + malediction the whole country, with all its inhabitants, partisans of + Ribiera and Montero alike; and there were incipient tears in his mute + anger at the thought of the innumerable ox-hides going to waste upon the + dreamy expanse of the Campo, with its single palms rising like ships at + sea within the perfect circle of the horizon, its clumps of heavy timber + motionless like solid islands of leaves above the running waves of grass. + There were hides there, rotting, with no profit to anybody—rotting + where they had been dropped by men called away to attend the urgent + necessities of political revolutions. The practical, mercantile soul of + Senor Hirsch rebelled against all that foolishness, while he was taking a + respectful but disconcerted leave of the might and majesty of the San Tome + mine in the person of Charles Gould. He could not restrain a heart-broken + murmur, wrung out of his very aching heart, as it were. + </p> + <p> + “It is a great, great foolishness, Don Carlos, all this. The price of + hides in Hamburg is gone up—up. Of course the Ribierist Government + will do away with all that—when it gets established firmly. Meantime—” + </p> + <p> + He sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, meantime,” repeated Charles Gould, inscrutably. + </p> + <p> + The other shrugged his shoulders. But he was not ready to go yet. There + was a little matter he would like to mention very much if permitted. It + appeared he had some good friends in Hamburg (he murmured the name of the + firm) who were very anxious to do business, in dynamite, he explained. A + contract for dynamite with the San Tome mine, and then, perhaps, later on, + other mines, which were sure to—The little man from Esmeralda was + ready to enlarge, but Charles interrupted him. It seemed as though the + patience of the Senor Administrador was giving way at last. + </p> + <p> + “Senor Hirsch,” he said, “I have enough dynamite stored up at the mountain + to send it down crashing into the valley”—his voice rose a little—“to + send half Sulaco into the air if I liked.” + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould smiled at the round, startled eyes of the dealer in hides, + who was murmuring hastily, “Just so. Just so.” And now he was going. It + was impossible to do business in explosives with an Administrador so well + provided and so discouraging. He had suffered agonies in the saddle and + had exposed himself to the atrocities of the bandit Hernandez for nothing + at all. Neither hides nor dynamite—and the very shoulders of the + enterprising Israelite expressed dejection. At the door he bowed low to + the engineer-in-chief. But at the bottom of the stairs in the patio he + stopped short, with his podgy hand over his lips in an attitude of + meditative astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “What does he want to keep so much dynamite for?” he muttered. “And why + does he talk like this to me?” + </p> + <p> + The engineer-in-chief, looking in at the door of the empty sala, whence + the political tide had ebbed out to the last insignificant drop, nodded + familiarly to the master of the house, standing motionless like a tall + beacon amongst the deserted shoals of furniture. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, I am going. Got my bike downstairs. The railway will know + where to go for dynamite should we get short at any time. We have done + cutting and chopping for a while now. We shall begin soon to blast our way + through.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t come to me,” said Charles Gould, with perfect serenity. “I shan’t + have an ounce to spare for anybody. Not an ounce. Not for my own brother, + if I had a brother, and he were the engineer-in-chief of the most + promising railway in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” asked the engineer-in-chief, with equanimity. “Unkindness?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Charles Gould, stolidly. “Policy.” + </p> + <p> + “Radical, I should think,” the engineer-in-chief observed from the + doorway. + </p> + <p> + “Is that the right name?” Charles Gould said, from the middle of the room. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, going to the roots, you know,” the engineer explained, with an + air of enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” Charles pronounced, slowly. “The Gould Concession has struck + such deep roots in this country, in this province, in that gorge of the + mountains, that nothing but dynamite shall be allowed to dislodge it from + there. It’s my choice. It’s my last card to play.” + </p> + <p> + The engineer-in-chief whistled low. “A pretty game,” he said, with a shade + of discretion. “And have you told Holroyd of that extraordinary trump card + you hold in your hand?” + </p> + <p> + “Card only when it’s played; when it falls at the end of the game. Till + then you may call it a—a—” + </p> + <p> + “Weapon,” suggested the railway man. + </p> + <p> + “No. You may call it rather an argument,” corrected Charles Gould, gently. + “And that’s how I’ve presented it to Mr. Holroyd.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did he say to it?” asked the engineer, with undisguised + interest. + </p> + <p> + “He”—Charles Gould spoke after a slight pause—“he said + something about holding on like grim death and putting our trust in God. I + should imagine he must have been rather startled. But then”—pursued + the Administrador of the San Tome mine—“but then, he is very far + away, you know, and, as they say in this country, God is very high above.” + </p> + <p> + The engineer’s appreciative laugh died away down the stairs, where the + Madonna with the Child on her arm seemed to look after his shaking broad + back from her shallow niche. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER SIX + </h2> + <p> + A profound stillness reigned in the Casa Gould. The master of the house, + walking along the corredor, opened the door of his room, and saw his wife + sitting in a big armchair—his own smoking armchair—thoughtful, + contemplating her little shoes. And she did not raise her eyes when he + walked in. + </p> + <p> + “Tired?” asked Charles Gould. + </p> + <p> + “A little,” said Mrs. Gould. Still without looking up, she added with + feeling, “There is an awful sense of unreality about all this.” + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, before the long table strewn with papers, on which lay a + hunting crop and a pair of spurs, stood looking at his wife: “The heat and + dust must have been awful this afternoon by the waterside,” he murmured, + sympathetically. “The glare on the water must have been simply terrible.” + </p> + <p> + “One could close one’s eyes to the glare,” said Mrs. Gould. “But, my dear + Charley, it is impossible for me to close my eyes to our position; to this + awful . . .” + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes and looked at her husband’s face, from which all sign + of sympathy or any other feeling had disappeared. “Why don’t you tell me + something?” she almost wailed. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you had understood me perfectly from the first,” Charles Gould + said, slowly. “I thought we had said all there was to say a long time ago. + There is nothing to say now. There were things to be done. We have done + them; we have gone on doing them. There is no going back now. I don’t + suppose that, even from the first, there was really any possible way back. + And, what’s more, we can’t even afford to stand still.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if one only knew how far you mean to go,” said his wife inwardly + trembling, but in an almost playful tone. + </p> + <p> + “Any distance, any length, of course,” was the answer, in a matter-of-fact + tone, which caused Mrs. Gould to make another effort to repress a shudder. + </p> + <p> + She stood up, smiling graciously, and her little figure seemed to be + diminished still more by the heavy mass of her hair and the long train of + her gown. + </p> + <p> + “But always to success,” she said, persuasively. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, enveloping her in the steely blue glance of his attentive + eyes, answered without hesitation— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there is no alternative.” + </p> + <p> + He put an immense assurance into his tone. As to the words, this was all + that his conscience would allow him to say. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould’s smile remained a shade too long upon her lips. She murmured— + </p> + <p> + “I will leave you; I’ve a slight headache. The heat, the dust, were indeed—I + suppose you are going back to the mine before the morning?” + </p> + <p> + “At midnight,” said Charles Gould. “We are bringing down the silver + to-morrow. Then I shall take three whole days off in town with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you are going to meet the escort. I shall be on the balcony at five + o’clock to see you pass. Till then, good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould walked rapidly round the table, and, seizing her hands, bent + down, pressing them both to his lips. Before he straightened himself up + again to his full height she had disengaged one to smooth his cheek with a + light touch, as if he were a little boy. + </p> + <p> + “Try to get some rest for a couple of hours,” she murmured, with a glance + at a hammock stretched in a distant part of the room. Her long train + swished softly after her on the red tiles. At the door she looked back. + </p> + <p> + Two big lamps with unpolished glass globes bathed in a soft and abundant + light the four white walls of the room, with a glass case of arms, the + brass hilt of Henry Gould’s cavalry sabre on its square of velvet, and the + water-colour sketch of the San Tome gorge. And Mrs. Gould, gazing at the + last in its black wooden frame, sighed out— + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if we had left it alone, Charley!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” Charles Gould said, moodily; “it was impossible to leave it alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it was impossible,” Mrs. Gould admitted, slowly. Her lips + quivered a little, but she smiled with an air of dainty bravado. “We have + disturbed a good many snakes in that Paradise, Charley, haven’t we?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I remember,” said Charles Gould, “it was Don Pepe who called the + gorge the Paradise of snakes. No doubt we have disturbed a great many. But + remember, my dear, that it is not now as it was when you made that + sketch.” He waved his hand towards the small water-colour hanging alone + upon the great bare wall. “It is no longer a Paradise of snakes. We have + brought mankind into it, and we cannot turn our backs upon them to go and + begin a new life elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + He confronted his wife with a firm, concentrated gaze, which Mrs. Gould + returned with a brave assumption of fearlessness before she went out, + closing the door gently after her. + </p> + <p> + In contrast with the white glaring room the dimly lit corredor had a + restful mysteriousness of a forest glade, suggested by the stems and the + leaves of the plants ranged along the balustrade of the open side. In the + streaks of light falling through the open doors of the reception-rooms, + the blossoms, white and red and pale lilac, came out vivid with the + brilliance of flowers in a stream of sunshine; and Mrs. Gould, passing on, + had the vividness of a figure seen in the clear patches of sun that + chequer the gloom of open glades in the woods. The stones in the rings + upon her hand pressed to her forehead glittered in the lamplight abreast + of the door of the sala. + </p> + <p> + “Who’s there?” she asked, in a startled voice. “Is that you, Basilio?” She + looked in, and saw Martin Decoud walking about, with an air of having lost + something, amongst the chairs and tables. + </p> + <p> + “Antonia has forgotten her fan in here,” said Decoud, with a strange air + of distraction; “so I entered to see.” + </p> + <p> + But, even as he said this, he had obviously given up his search, and + walked straight towards Mrs. Gould, who looked at him with doubtful + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Senora,” he began, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Don Martin?” asked Mrs. Gould. And then she added, with a + slight laugh, “I am so nervous to-day,” as if to explain the eagerness of + the question. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing immediately dangerous,” said Decoud, who now could not conceal + his agitation. “Pray don’t distress yourself. No, really, you must not + distress yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould, with her candid eyes very wide open, her lips composed into a + smile, was steadying herself with a little bejewelled hand against the + side of the door. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you don’t know how alarming you are, appearing like this + unexpectedly—” + </p> + <p> + “I! Alarming!” he protested, sincerely vexed and surprised. “I assure you + that I am not in the least alarmed myself. A fan is lost; well, it will be + found again. But I don’t think it is here. It is a fan I am looking for. I + cannot understand how Antonia could—Well! Have you found it, amigo?” + </p> + <p> + “No, senor,” said behind Mrs. Gould the soft voice of Basilio, the head + servant of the Casa. “I don’t think the senorita could have left it in + this house at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Go and look for it in the patio again. Go now, my friend; look for it on + the steps, under the gate; examine every flagstone; search for it till I + come down again. . . . That fellow”—he addressed himself in English + to Mrs. Gould—“is always stealing up behind one’s back on his bare + feet. I set him to look for that fan directly I came in to justify my + reappearance, my sudden return.” + </p> + <p> + He paused and Mrs. Gould said, amiably, “You are always welcome.” She + paused for a second, too. “But I am waiting to learn the cause of your + return.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud affected suddenly the utmost nonchalance. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t bear to be spied upon. Oh, the cause? Yes, there is a cause; + there is something else that is lost besides Antonia’s favourite fan. As I + was walking home after seeing Don Jose and Antonia to their house, the + Capataz de Cargadores, riding down the street, spoke to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Has anything happened to the Violas?” inquired Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “The Violas? You mean the old Garibaldino who keeps the hotel where the + engineers live? Nothing happened there. The Capataz said nothing of them; + he only told me that the telegraphist of the Cable Company was walking on + the Plaza, bareheaded, looking out for me. There is news from the + interior, Mrs. Gould. I should rather say rumours of news.” + </p> + <p> + “Good news?” said Mrs. Gould in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Worthless, I should think. But if I must define them, I would say bad. + They are to the effect that a two days’ battle had been fought near Sta. + Marta, and that the Ribierists are defeated. It must have happened a few + days ago—perhaps a week. The rumour has just reached Cayta, and the + man in charge of the cable station there has telegraphed the news to his + colleague here. We might just as well have kept Barrios in Sulaco.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s to be done now?” murmured Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. He’s at sea with the troops. He will get to Cayta in a couple of + days’ time and learn the news there. What he will do then, who can say? + Hold Cayta? Offer his submission to Montero? Disband his army—this + last most likely, and go himself in one of the O.S.N. Company’s steamers, + north or south—to Valparaiso or to San Francisco, no matter where. + Our Barrios has a great practice in exiles and repatriations, which mark + the points in the political game.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud, exchanging a steady stare with Mrs. Gould, added, tentatively, as + it were, “And yet, if we had could have been done.” + </p> + <p> + “Montero victorious, completely victorious!” Mrs. Gould breathed out in a + tone of unbelief. + </p> + <p> + “A canard, probably. That sort of bird is hatched in great numbers in such + times as these. And even if it were true? Well, let us put things at their + worst, let us say it is true.” + </p> + <p> + “Then everything is lost,” said Mrs. Gould, with the calmness of despair. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she seemed to divine, she seemed to see Decoud’s tremendous + excitement under its cloak of studied carelessness. It was, indeed, + becoming visible in his audacious and watchful stare, in the curve, + half-reckless, half-contemptuous, of his lips. And a French phrase came + upon them as if, for this Costaguanero of the Boulevard, that had been the + only forcible language— + </p> + <p> + “<i>Non, Madame. Rien n’est perdu</i>.” + </p> + <p> + It electrified Mrs. Gould out of her benumbed attitude, and she said, + vivaciously— + </p> + <p> + “What would you think of doing?” + </p> + <p> + But already there was something of mockery in Decoud’s suppressed + excitement. + </p> + <p> + “What would you expect a true Costaguanero to do? Another revolution, of + course. On my word of honour, Mrs. Gould, I believe I am a true <i>hijo + del pays</i>, a true son of the country, whatever Father Corbelan may say. + And I’m not so much of an unbeliever as not to have faith in my own ideas, + in my own remedies, in my own desires.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Gould, doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t seem convinced,” Decoud went on again in French. “Say, then, in + my passions.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould received this addition unflinchingly. To understand it + thoroughly she did not require to hear his muttered assurance— + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing I would not do for the sake of Antonia. There is nothing + I am not prepared to undertake. There is no risk I am not ready to run.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud seemed to find a fresh audacity in this voicing of his thoughts. + “You would not believe me if I were to say that it is the love of the + country which—” + </p> + <p> + She made a sort of discouraged protest with her arm, as if to express that + she had given up expecting that motive from any one. + </p> + <p> + “A Sulaco revolution,” Decoud pursued in a forcible undertone. “The Great + Cause may be served here, on the very spot of its inception, in the place + of its birth, Mrs. Gould.” + </p> + <p> + Frowning, and biting her lower lip thoughtfully, she made a step away from + the door. + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to speak to your husband?” Decoud arrested her + anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “But you will need his help?” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt,” Decoud admitted without hesitation. “Everything turns upon the + San Tome mine, but I would rather he didn’t know anything as yet of my—my + hopes.” + </p> + <p> + A puzzled look came upon Mrs. Gould’s face, and Decoud, approaching, + explained confidentially— + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you see, he’s such an idealist.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould flushed pink, and her eyes grew darker at the same time. + </p> + <p> + “Charley an idealist!” she said, as if to herself, wonderingly. “What on + earth do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” conceded Decoud, “it’s a wonderful thing to say with the sight of + the San Tome mine, the greatest fact in the whole of South America, + perhaps, before our very eyes. But look even at that, he has idealized + this fact to a point—” He paused. “Mrs. Gould, are you aware to what + point he has idealized the existence, the worth, the meaning of the San + Tome mine? Are you aware of it?” + </p> + <p> + He must have known what he was talking about. + </p> + <p> + The effect he expected was produced. Mrs. Gould, ready to take fire, gave + it up suddenly with a low little sound that resembled a moan. + </p> + <p> + “What do you know?” she asked in a feeble voice. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” answered Decoud, firmly. “But, then, don’t you see, he’s an + Englishman?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of that?” asked Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “Simply that he cannot act or exist without idealizing every simple + feeling, desire, or achievement. He could not believe his own motives if + he did not make them first a part of some fairy tale. The earth is not + quite good enough for him, I fear. Do you excuse my frankness? Besides, + whether you excuse it or not, it is part of the truth of things which + hurts the—what do you call them?—the Anglo-Saxon’s + susceptibilities, and at the present moment I don’t feel as if I could + treat seriously either his conception of things or—if you allow me + to say so—or yet yours.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould gave no sign of being offended. “I suppose Antonia understands + you thoroughly?” + </p> + <p> + “Understands? Well, yes. But I am not sure that she approves. That, + however, makes no difference. I am honest enough to tell you that, Mrs. + Gould.” + </p> + <p> + “Your idea, of course, is separation,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Separation, of course,” declared Martin. “Yes; separation of the whole + Occidental Province from the rest of the unquiet body. But my true idea, + the only one I care for, is not to be separated from Antonia.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is all?” asked Mrs. Gould, without severity. + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely. I am not deceiving myself about my motives. She won’t leave + Sulaco for my sake, therefore Sulaco must leave the rest of the Republic + to its fate. Nothing could be clearer than that. I like a clearly defined + situation. I cannot part with Antonia, therefore the one and indivisible + Republic of Costaguana must be made to part with its western province. + Fortunately it happens to be also a sound policy. The richest, the most + fertile part of this land may be saved from anarchy. Personally, I care + little, very little; but it’s a fact that the establishment of Montero in + power would mean death to me. In all the proclamations of general pardon + which I have seen, my name, with a few others, is specially excepted. The + brothers hate me, as you know very well, Mrs. Gould; and behold, here is + the rumour of them having won a battle. You say that supposing it is true, + I have plenty of time to run away.” + </p> + <p> + The slight, protesting murmur on the part of Mrs. Gould made him pause for + a moment, while he looked at her with a sombre and resolute glance. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but I would, Mrs. Gould. I would run away if it served that which at + present is my only desire. I am courageous enough to say that, and to do + it, too. But women, even our women, are idealists. It is Antonia that + won’t run away. A novel sort of vanity.” + </p> + <p> + “You call it vanity,” said Mrs. Gould, in a shocked voice. + </p> + <p> + “Say pride, then, which Father Corbelan would tell you, is a mortal sin. + But I am not proud. I am simply too much in love to run away. At the same + time I want to live. There is no love for a dead man. Therefore it is + necessary that Sulaco should not recognize the victorious Montero.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think my husband will give you his support?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he can be drawn into it, like all idealists, when he once sees a + sentimental basis for his action. But I wouldn’t talk to him. Mere clear + facts won’t appeal to his sentiment. It is much better for him to convince + himself in his own way. And, frankly, I could not, perhaps, just now pay + sufficient respect to either his motives or even, perhaps, to yours, Mrs. + Gould.” + </p> + <p> + It was evident that Mrs. Gould was very determined not to be offended. She + smiled vaguely, while she seemed to think the matter over. As far as she + could judge from the girl’s half-confidences, Antonia understood that + young man. Obviously there was promise of safety in his plan, or rather in + his idea. Moreover, right or wrong, the idea could do no harm. And it was + quite possible, also, that the rumour was false. + </p> + <p> + “You have some sort of a plan,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Simplicity itself. Barrios has started, let him go on then; he will hold + Cayta, which is the door of the sea route to Sulaco. They cannot send a + sufficient force over the mountains. No; not even to cope with the band of + Hernandez. Meantime we shall organize our resistance here. And for that, + this very Hernandez will be useful. He has defeated troops as a bandit; he + will no doubt accomplish the same thing if he is made a colonel or even a + general. You know the country well enough not to be shocked by what I say, + Mrs. Gould. I have heard you assert that this poor bandit was the living, + breathing example of cruelty, injustice, stupidity, and oppression, that + ruin men’s souls as well as their fortunes in this country. Well, there + would be some poetical retribution in that man arising to crush the evils + which had driven an honest ranchero into a life of crime. A fine idea of + retribution in that, isn’t there?” + </p> + <p> + Decoud had dropped easily into English, which he spoke with precision, + very correctly, but with too many z sounds. + </p> + <p> + “Think also of your hospitals, of your schools, of your ailing mothers and + feeble old men, of all that population which you and your husband have + brought into the rocky gorge of San Tome. Are you not responsible to your + conscience for all these people? Is it not worth while to make another + effort, which is not at all so desperate as it looks, rather than—” + </p> + <p> + Decoud finished his thought with an upward toss of the arm, suggesting + annihilation; and Mrs. Gould turned away her head with a look of horror. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you say all this to my husband?” she asked, without looking at + Decoud, who stood watching the effect of his words. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! But Don Carlos is so English,” he began. Mrs. Gould interrupted— + </p> + <p> + “Leave that alone, Don Martin. He’s as much a Costaguanero—No! He’s + more of a Costaguanero than yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Sentimentalist, sentimentalist,” Decoud almost cooed, in a tone of gentle + and soothing deference. “Sentimentalist, after the amazing manner of your + people. I have been watching El Rey de Sulaco since I came here on a + fool’s errand, and perhaps impelled by some treason of fate lurking behind + the unaccountable turns of a man’s life. But I don’t matter, I am not a + sentimentalist, I cannot endow my personal desires with a shining robe of + silk and jewels. Life is not for me a moral romance derived from the + tradition of a pretty fairy tale. No, Mrs. Gould; I am practical. I am not + afraid of my motives. But, pardon me, I have been rather carried away. + What I wish to say is that I have been observing. I won’t tell you what I + have discovered—” + </p> + <p> + “No. That is unnecessary,” whispered Mrs. Gould, once more averting her + head. + </p> + <p> + “It is. Except one little fact, that your husband does not like me. It’s a + small matter, which, in the circumstances, seems to acquire a perfectly + ridiculous importance. Ridiculous and immense; for, clearly, money is + required for my plan,” he reflected; then added, meaningly, “and we have + two sentimentalists to deal with.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that I understand you, Don Martin,” said Mrs. Gould, coldly, + preserving the low key of their conversation. “But, speaking as if I did, + who is the other?” + </p> + <p> + “The great Holroyd in San Francisco, of course,” Decoud whispered, + lightly. “I think you understand me very well. Women are idealists; but + then they are so perspicacious.” + </p> + <p> + But whatever was the reason of that remark, disparaging and complimentary + at the same time, Mrs. Gould seemed not to pay attention to it. The name + of Holroyd had given a new tone to her anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “The silver escort is coming down to the harbour tomorrow; a whole six + months’ working, Don Martin!” she cried in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Let it come down, then,” breathed out Decoud, earnestly, almost into her + ear. + </p> + <p> + “But if the rumour should get about, and especially if it turned out true, + troubles might break out in the town,” objected Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + Decoud admitted that it was possible. He knew well the town children of + the Sulaco Campo: sullen, thievish, vindictive, and bloodthirsty, whatever + great qualities their brothers of the plain might have had. But then there + was that other sentimentalist, who attached a strangely idealistic meaning + to concrete facts. This stream of silver must be kept flowing north to + return in the form of financial backing from the great house of Holroyd. + Up at the mountain in the strong room of the mine the silver bars were + worth less for his purpose than so much lead, from which at least bullets + may be run. Let it come down to the harbour, ready for shipment. + </p> + <p> + The next north-going steamer would carry it off for the very salvation of + the San Tome mine, which had produced so much treasure. And, moreover, the + rumour was probably false, he remarked, with much conviction in his + hurried tone. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, senora,” concluded Decoud, “we may suppress it for many days. I + have been talking with the telegraphist in the middle of the Plaza Mayor; + thus I am certain that we could not have been overheard. There was not + even a bird in the air near us. And also let me tell you something more. I + have been making friends with this man called Nostromo, the Capataz. We + had a conversation this very evening, I walking by the side of his horse + as he rode slowly out of the town just now. He promised me that if a riot + took place for any reason—even for the most political of reasons, + you understand—his Cargadores, an important part of the populace, + you will admit, should be found on the side of the Europeans.” + </p> + <p> + “He has promised you that?” Mrs. Gould inquired, with interest. “What made + him make that promise to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, I don’t know,” declared Decoud, in a slightly surprised + tone. “He certainly promised me that, but now you ask me why, I could not + tell you his reasons. He talked with his usual carelessness, which, if he + had been anything else but a common sailor, I would call a pose or an + affectation.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud, interrupting himself, looked at Mrs. Gould curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Upon the whole,” he continued, “I suppose he expects something to his + advantage from it. You mustn’t forget that he does not exercise his + extraordinary power over the lower classes without a certain amount of + personal risk and without a great profusion in spending his money. One + must pay in some way or other for such a solid thing as individual + prestige. He told me after we made friends at a dance, in a Posada kept by + a Mexican just outside the walls, that he had come here to make his + fortune. I suppose he looks upon his prestige as a sort of investment.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he prizes it for its own sake,” Mrs. Gould said in a tone as if + she were repelling an undeserved aspersion. “Viola, the Garibaldino, with + whom he has lived for some years, calls him the Incorruptible.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! he belongs to the group of your proteges out there towards the + harbour, Mrs. Gould. Muy bien. And Captain Mitchell calls him wonderful. I + have heard no end of tales of his strength, his audacity, his fidelity. No + end of fine things. H’m! incorruptible! It is indeed a name of honour for + the Capataz of the Cargadores of Sulaco. Incorruptible! Fine, but vague. + However, I suppose he’s sensible, too. And I talked to him upon that sane + and practical assumption.” + </p> + <p> + “I prefer to think him disinterested, and therefore trustworthy,” Mrs. + Gould said, with the nearest approach to curtness it was in her nature to + assume. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if so, then the silver will be still more safe. Let it come down, + senora. Let it come down, so that it may go north and return to us in the + shape of credit.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould glanced along the corredor towards the door of her husband’s + room. Decoud, watching her as if she had his fate in her hands, detected + an almost imperceptible nod of assent. He bowed with a smile, and, putting + his hand into the breast pocket of his coat, pulled out a fan of light + feathers set upon painted leaves of sandal-wood. “I had it in my pocket,” + he murmured, triumphantly, “for a plausible pretext.” He bowed again. + “Good-night, senora.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould continued along the corredor away from her husband’s room. The + fate of the San Tome mine was lying heavy upon her heart. It was a long + time now since she had begun to fear it. It had been an idea. She had + watched it with misgivings turning into a fetish, and now the fetish had + grown into a monstrous and crushing weight. It was as if the inspiration + of their early years had left her heart to turn into a wall of + silver-bricks, erected by the silent work of evil spirits, between her and + her husband. He seemed to dwell alone within a circumvallation of precious + metal, leaving her outside with her school, her hospital, the sick mothers + and the feeble old men, mere insignificant vestiges of the initial + inspiration. “Those poor people!” she murmured to herself. + </p> + <p> + Below she heard the voice of Martin Decoud in the patio speaking loudly: + </p> + <p> + “I have found Dona Antonia’s fan, Basilio. Look, here it is!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER SEVEN + </h2> + <p> + It was part of what Decoud would have called his sane materialism that he + did not believe in the possibility of friendship between man and woman. + </p> + <p> + The one exception he allowed confirmed, he maintained, that absolute rule. + Friendship was possible between brother and sister, meaning by friendship + the frank unreserve, as before another human being, of thoughts and + sensations; all the objectless and necessary sincerity of one’s innermost + life trying to re-act upon the profound sympathies of another existence. + </p> + <p> + His favourite sister, the handsome, slightly arbitrary and resolute angel, + ruling the father and mother Decoud in the first-floor apartments of a + very fine Parisian house, was the recipient of Martin Decoud’s confidences + as to his thoughts, actions, purposes, doubts, and even failures. . . . + </p> + <p> + “Prepare our little circle in Paris for the birth of another South + American Republic. One more or less, what does it matter? They may come + into the world like evil flowers on a hotbed of rotten institutions; but + the seed of this one has germinated in your brother’s brain, and that will + be enough for your devoted assent. I am writing this to you by the light + of a single candle, in a sort of inn, near the harbour, kept by an Italian + called Viola, a protege of Mrs. Gould. The whole building, which, for all + I know, may have been contrived by a Conquistador farmer of the pearl + fishery three hundred years ago, is perfectly silent. So is the plain + between the town and the harbour; silent, but not so dark as the house, + because the pickets of Italian workmen guarding the railway have lighted + little fires all along the line. It was not so quiet around here + yesterday. We had an awful riot—a sudden outbreak of the populace, + which was not suppressed till late today. Its object, no doubt, was loot, + and that was defeated, as you may have learned already from the cablegram + sent via San Francisco and New York last night, when the cables were still + open. You have read already there that the energetic action of the + Europeans of the railway has saved the town from destruction, and you may + believe that. I wrote out the cable myself. We have no Reuter’s agency man + here. I have also fired at the mob from the windows of the club, in + company with some other young men of position. Our object was to keep the + Calle de la Constitucion clear for the exodus of the ladies and children, + who have taken refuge on board a couple of cargo ships now in the harbour + here. That was yesterday. You should also have learned from the cable that + the missing President, Ribiera, who had disappeared after the battle of + Sta. Marta, has turned up here in Sulaco by one of those strange + coincidences that are almost incredible, riding on a lame mule into the + very midst of the street fighting. It appears that he had fled, in company + of a muleteer called Bonifacio, across the mountains from the threats of + Montero into the arms of an enraged mob. + </p> + <p> + “The Capataz of Cargadores, that Italian sailor of whom I have written to + you before, has saved him from an ignoble death. That man seems to have a + particular talent for being on the spot whenever there is something + picturesque to be done. + </p> + <p> + “He was with me at four o’clock in the morning at the offices of the + Porvenir, where he had turned up so early in order to warn me of the + coming trouble, and also to assure me that he would keep his Cargadores on + the side of order. When the full daylight came we were looking together at + the crowd on foot and on horseback, demonstrating on the Plaza and shying + stones at the windows of the Intendencia. Nostromo (that is the name they + call him by here) was pointing out to me his Cargadores interspersed in + the mob. + </p> + <p> + “The sun shines late upon Sulaco, for it has first to climb above the + mountains. In that clear morning light, brighter than twilight, Nostromo + saw right across the vast Plaza, at the end of the street beyond the + cathedral, a mounted man apparently in difficulties with a yelling knot of + leperos. At once he said to me, ‘That’s a stranger. What is it they are + doing to him?’ Then he took out the silver whistle he is in the habit of + using on the wharf (this man seems to disdain the use of any metal less + precious than silver) and blew into it twice, evidently a preconcerted + signal for his Cargadores. He ran out immediately, and they rallied round + him. I ran out, too, but was too late to follow them and help in the + rescue of the stranger, whose animal had fallen. I was set upon at once as + a hated aristocrat, and was only too glad to get into the club, where Don + Jaime Berges (you may remember him visiting at our house in Paris some + three years ago) thrust a sporting gun into my hands. They were already + firing from the windows. There were little heaps of cartridges lying about + on the open card-tables. I remember a couple of overturned chairs, some + bottles rolling on the floor amongst the packs of cards scattered suddenly + as the caballeros rose from their game to open fire upon the mob. Most of + the young men had spent the night at the club in the expectation of some + such disturbance. In two of the candelabra, on the consoles, the candles + were burning down in their sockets. A large iron nut, probably stolen from + the railway workshops, flew in from the street as I entered, and broke one + of the large mirrors set in the wall. I noticed also one of the club + servants tied up hand and foot with the cords of the curtain and flung in + a corner. I have a vague recollection of Don Jaime assuring me hastily + that the fellow had been detected putting poison into the dishes at + supper. But I remember distinctly he was shrieking for mercy, without + stopping at all, continuously, and so absolutely disregarded that nobody + even took the trouble to gag him. The noise he made was so disagreeable + that I had half a mind to do it myself. But there was no time to waste on + such trifles. I took my place at one of the windows and began firing. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t learn till later in the afternoon whom it was that Nostromo, + with his Cargadores and some Italian workmen as well, had managed to save + from those drunken rascals. That man has a peculiar talent when anything + striking to the imagination has to be done. I made that remark to him + afterwards when we met after some sort of order had been restored in the + town, and the answer he made rather surprised me. He said quite moodily, + ‘And how much do I get for that, senor?’ Then it dawned upon me that + perhaps this man’s vanity has been satiated by the adulation of the common + people and the confidence of his superiors!” + </p> + <p> + Decoud paused to light a cigarette, then, with his head still over his + writing, he blew a cloud of smoke, which seemed to rebound from the paper. + He took up the pencil again. + </p> + <p> + “That was yesterday evening on the Plaza, while he sat on the steps of the + cathedral, his hands between his knees, holding the bridle of his famous + silver-grey mare. He had led his body of Cargadores splendidly all day + long. He looked fatigued. I don’t know how I looked. Very dirty, I + suppose. But I suppose I also looked pleased. From the time the fugitive + President had been got off to the S. S. Minerva, the tide of success had + turned against the mob. They had been driven off the harbour, and out of + the better streets of the town, into their own maze of ruins and + tolderias. You must understand that this riot, whose primary object was + undoubtedly the getting hold of the San Tome silver stored in the lower + rooms of the Custom House (besides the general looting of the Ricos), had + acquired a political colouring from the fact of two Deputies to the + Provincial Assembly, Senores Gamacho and Fuentes, both from Bolson, + putting themselves at the head of it—late in the afternoon, it is + true, when the mob, disappointed in their hopes of loot, made a stand in + the narrow streets to the cries of ‘Viva la Libertad! Down with + Feudalism!’ (I wonder what they imagine feudalism to be?) ‘Down with the + Goths and Paralytics.’ I suppose the Senores Gamacho and Fuentes knew what + they were doing. They are prudent gentlemen. In the Assembly they called + themselves Moderates, and opposed every energetic measure with + philanthropic pensiveness. At the first rumours of Montero’s victory, they + showed a subtle change of the pensive temper, and began to defy poor Don + Juste Lopez in his Presidential tribune with an effrontery to which the + poor man could only respond by a dazed smoothing of his beard and the + ringing of the presidential bell. Then, when the downfall of the Ribierist + cause became confirmed beyond the shadow of a doubt, they have blossomed + into convinced Liberals, acting together as if they were Siamese twins, + and ultimately taking charge, as it were, of the riot in the name of + Monterist principles. + </p> + <p> + “Their last move of eight o’clock last night was to organize themselves + into a Monterist Committee which sits, as far as I know, in a posada kept + by a retired Mexican bull-fighter, a great politician, too, whose name I + have forgotten. Thence they have issued a communication to us, the Goths + and Paralytics of the Amarilla Club (who have our own committee), inviting + us to come to some provisional understanding for a truce, in order, they + have the impudence to say, that the noble cause of Liberty ‘should not be + stained by the criminal excesses of Conservative selfishness!’ As I came + out to sit with Nostromo on the cathedral steps the club was busy + considering a proper reply in the principal room, littered with exploded + cartridges, with a lot of broken glass, blood smears, candlesticks, and + all sorts of wreckage on the floor. But all this is nonsense. Nobody in + the town has any real power except the railway engineers, whose men occupy + the dismantled houses acquired by the Company for their town station on + one side of the Plaza, and Nostromo, whose Cargadores were sleeping under + the arcades along the front of Anzani’s shops. A fire of broken furniture + out of the Intendencia saloons, mostly gilt, was burning on the Plaza, in + a high flame swaying right upon the statue of Charles IV. The dead body of + a man was lying on the steps of the pedestal, his arms thrown wide open, + and his sombrero covering his face—the attention of some friend, + perhaps. The light of the flames touched the foliage of the first trees on + the Alameda, and played on the end of a side street near by, blocked up by + a jumble of ox-carts and dead bullocks. Sitting on one of the carcasses, a + lepero, muffled up, smoked a cigarette. It was a truce, you understand. + The only other living being on the Plaza besides ourselves was a Cargador + walking to and fro, with a long, bare knife in his hand, like a sentry + before the Arcades, where his friends were sleeping. And the only other + spot of light in the dark town were the lighted windows of the club, at + the corner of the Calle.” + </p> + <p> + After having written so far, Don Martin Decoud, the exotic dandy of the + Parisian boulevard, got up and walked across the sanded floor of the cafe + at one end of the Albergo of United Italy, kept by Giorgio Viola, the old + companion of Garibaldi. The highly coloured lithograph of the Faithful + Hero seemed to look dimly, in the light of one candle, at the man with no + faith in anything except the truth of his own sensations. Looking out of + the window, Decoud was met by a darkness so impenetrable that he could see + neither the mountains nor the town, nor yet the buildings near the + harbour; and there was not a sound, as if the tremendous obscurity of the + Placid Gulf, spreading from the waters over the land, had made it dumb as + well as blind. Presently Decoud felt a light tremor of the floor and a + distant clank of iron. A bright white light appeared, deep in the + darkness, growing bigger with a thundering noise. The rolling stock + usually kept on the sidings in Rincon was being run back to the yards for + safe keeping. Like a mysterious stirring of the darkness behind the + headlight of the engine, the train passed in a gust of hollow uproar, by + the end of the house, which seemed to vibrate all over in response. And + nothing was clearly visible but, on the end of the last flat car, a negro, + in white trousers and naked to the waist, swinging a blazing torch basket + incessantly with a circular movement of his bare arm. Decoud did not stir. + </p> + <p> + Behind him, on the back of the chair from which he had risen, hung his + elegant Parisian overcoat, with a pearl-grey silk lining. But when he + turned back to come to the table the candlelight fell upon a face that was + grimy and scratched. His rosy lips were blackened with heat, the smoke of + gun-powder. Dirt and rust tarnished the lustre of his short beard. His + shirt collar and cuffs were crumpled; the blue silken tie hung down his + breast like a rag; a greasy smudge crossed his white brow. He had not + taken off his clothing nor used water, except to snatch a hasty drink + greedily, for some forty hours. An awful restlessness had made him its + own, had marked him with all the signs of desperate strife, and put a dry, + sleepless stare into his eyes. He murmured to himself in a hoarse voice, + “I wonder if there’s any bread here,” looked vaguely about him, then + dropped into the chair and took the pencil up again. He became aware he + had not eaten anything for many hours. + </p> + <p> + It occurred to him that no one could understand him so well as his sister. + In the most sceptical heart there lurks at such moments, when the chances + of existence are involved, a desire to leave a correct impression of the + feelings, like a light by which the action may be seen when personality is + gone, gone where no light of investigation can ever reach the truth which + every death takes out of the world. Therefore, instead of looking for + something to eat, or trying to snatch an hour or so of sleep, Decoud was + filling the pages of a large pocket-book with a letter to his sister. + </p> + <p> + In the intimacy of that intercourse he could not keep out his weariness, + his great fatigue, the close touch of his bodily sensations. He began + again as if he were talking to her. With almost an illusion of her + presence, he wrote the phrase, “I am very hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “I have the feeling of a great solitude around me,” he continued. “Is it, + perhaps, because I am the only man with a definite idea in his head, in + the complete collapse of every resolve, intention, and hope about me? But + the solitude is also very real. All the engineers are out, and have been + for two days, looking after the property of the National Central Railway, + of that great Costaguana undertaking which is to put money into the + pockets of Englishmen, Frenchmen, Americans, Germans, and God knows who + else. The silence about me is ominous. There is above the middle part of + this house a sort of first floor, with narrow openings like loopholes for + windows, probably used in old times for the better defence against the + savages, when the persistent barbarism of our native continent did not + wear the black coats of politicians, but went about yelling, half-naked, + with bows and arrows in its hands. The woman of the house is dying up + there, I believe, all alone with her old husband. There is a narrow + staircase, the sort of staircase one man could easily defend against a + mob, leading up there, and I have just heard, through the thickness of the + wall, the old fellow going down into their kitchen for something or other. + It was a sort of noise a mouse might make behind the plaster of a wall. + All the servants they had ran away yesterday and have not returned yet, if + ever they do. For the rest, there are only two children here, two girls. + The father has sent them downstairs, and they have crept into this cafe, + perhaps because I am here. They huddle together in a corner, in each + other’s arms; I just noticed them a few minutes ago, and I feel more + lonely than ever.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud turned half round in his chair, and asked, “Is there any bread + here?” + </p> + <p> + Linda’s dark head was shaken negatively in response, above the fair head + of her sister nestling on her breast. + </p> + <p> + “You couldn’t get me some bread?” insisted Decoud. The child did not move; + he saw her large eyes stare at him very dark from the corner. “You’re not + afraid of me?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Linda, “we are not afraid of you. You came here with Gian’ + Battista.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean Nostromo?” said Decoud. + </p> + <p> + “The English call him so, but that is no name either for man or beast,” + said the girl, passing her hand gently over her sister’s hair. + </p> + <p> + “But he lets people call him so,” remarked Decoud. + </p> + <p> + “Not in this house,” retorted the child. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! well, I shall call him the Capataz then.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud gave up the point, and after writing steadily for a while turned + round again. + </p> + <p> + “When do you expect him back?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “After he brought you here he rode off to fetch the Senor Doctor from the + town for mother. He will be back soon.” + </p> + <p> + “He stands a good chance of getting shot somewhere on the road,” Decoud + murmured to himself audibly; and Linda declared in her high-pitched voice— + </p> + <p> + “Nobody would dare to fire a shot at Gian’ Battista.” + </p> + <p> + “You believe that,” asked Decoud, “do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said the child, with conviction. “There is no one in this + place brave enough to attack Gian’ Battista.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t require much bravery to pull a trigger behind a bush,” + muttered Decoud to himself. “Fortunately, the night is dark, or there + would be but little chance of saving the silver of the mine.” + </p> + <p> + He turned again to his pocket-book, glanced back through the pages, and + again started his pencil. + </p> + <p> + “That was the position yesterday, after the Minerva with the fugitive + President had gone out of harbour, and the rioters had been driven back + into the side lanes of the town. I sat on the steps of the cathedral with + Nostromo, after sending out the cable message for the information of a + more or less attentive world. Strangely enough, though the offices of the + Cable Company are in the same building as the Porvenir, the mob, which has + thrown my presses out of the window and scattered the type all over the + Plaza, has been kept from interfering with the instruments on the other + side of the courtyard. As I sat talking with Nostromo, Bernhardt, the + telegraphist, came out from under the Arcades with a piece of paper in his + hand. The little man had tied himself up to an enormous sword and was hung + all over with revolvers. He is ridiculous, but the bravest German of his + size that ever tapped the key of a Morse transmitter. He had received the + message from Cayta reporting the transports with Barrios’s army just + entering the port, and ending with the words, ‘The greatest enthusiasm + prevails.’ I walked off to drink some water at the fountain, and I was + shot at from the Alameda by somebody hiding behind a tree. But I drank, + and didn’t care; with Barrios in Cayta and the great Cordillera between us + and Montero’s victorious army I seemed, notwithstanding Messrs. Gamacho + and Fuentes, to hold my new State in the hollow of my hand. I was ready to + sleep, but when I got as far as the Casa Gould I found the patio full of + wounded laid out on straw. Lights were burning, and in that enclosed + courtyard on that hot night a faint odour of chloroform and blood hung + about. At one end Doctor Monygham, the doctor of the mine, was dressing + the wounds; at the other, near the stairs, Father Corbelan, kneeling, + listened to the confession of a dying Cargador. Mrs. Gould was walking + about through these shambles with a large bottle in one hand and a lot of + cotton wool in the other. She just looked at me and never even winked. Her + camerista was following her, also holding a bottle, and sobbing gently to + herself. + </p> + <p> + “I busied myself for some time in fetching water from the cistern for the + wounded. Afterwards I wandered upstairs, meeting some of the first ladies + of Sulaco, paler than I had ever seen them before, with bandages over + their arms. Not all of them had fled to the ships. A good many had taken + refuge for the day in the Casa Gould. On the landing a girl, with her hair + half down, was kneeling against the wall under the niche where stands a + Madonna in blue robes and a gilt crown on her head. I think it was the + eldest Miss Lopez; I couldn’t see her face, but I remember looking at the + high French heel of her little shoe. She did not make a sound, she did not + stir, she was not sobbing; she remained there, perfectly still, all black + against the white wall, a silent figure of passionate piety. I am sure she + was no more frightened than the other white-faced ladies I met carrying + bandages. One was sitting on the top step tearing a piece of linen hastily + into strips—the young wife of an elderly man of fortune here. She + interrupted herself to wave her hand to my bow, as though she were in her + carriage on the Alameda. The women of our country are worth looking at + during a revolution. The rouge and pearl powder fall off, together with + that passive attitude towards the outer world which education, tradition, + custom impose upon them from the earliest infancy. I thought of your face, + which from your infancy had the stamp of intelligence instead of that + patient and resigned cast which appears when some political commotion + tears down the veil of cosmetics and usage. + </p> + <p> + “In the great sala upstairs a sort of Junta of Notables was sitting, the + remnant of the vanished Provincial Assembly. Don Juste Lopez had had half + his beard singed off at the muzzle of a trabuco loaded with slugs, of + which every one missed him, providentially. And as he turned his head from + side to side it was exactly as if there had been two men inside his + frock-coat, one nobly whiskered and solemn, the other untidy and scared. + </p> + <p> + “They raised a cry of ‘Decoud! Don Martin!’ at my entrance. I asked them, + ‘What are you deliberating upon, gentlemen?’ There did not seem to be any + president, though Don Jose Avellanos sat at the head of the table. They + all answered together, ‘On the preservation of life and property.’ ‘Till + the new officials arrive,’ Don Juste explained to me, with the solemn side + of his face offered to my view. It was as if a stream of water had been + poured upon my glowing idea of a new State. There was a hissing sound in + my ears, and the room grew dim, as if suddenly filled with vapour. + </p> + <p> + “I walked up to the table blindly, as though I had been drunk. ‘You are + deliberating upon surrender,’ I said. They all sat still, with their noses + over the sheet of paper each had before him, God only knows why. Only Don + Jose hid his face in his hands, muttering, ‘Never, never!’ But as I looked + at him, it seemed to me that I could have blown him away with my breath, + he looked so frail, so weak, so worn out. Whatever happens, he will not + survive. The deception is too great for a man of his age; and hasn’t he + seen the sheets of ‘Fifty Years of Misrule,’ which we have begun printing + on the presses of the Porvenir, littering the Plaza, floating in the + gutters, fired out as wads for trabucos loaded with handfuls of type, + blown in the wind, trampled in the mud? I have seen pages floating upon + the very waters of the harbour. It would be unreasonable to expect him to + survive. It would be cruel. + </p> + <p> + “‘Do you know,’ I cried, ‘what surrender means to you, to your women, to + your children, to your property?’ + </p> + <p> + “I declaimed for five minutes without drawing breath, it seems to me, + harping on our best chances, on the ferocity of Montero, whom I made out + to be as great a beast as I have no doubt he would like to be if he had + intelligence enough to conceive a systematic reign of terror. And then for + another five minutes or more I poured out an impassioned appeal to their + courage and manliness, with all the passion of my love for Antonia. For if + ever man spoke well, it would be from a personal feeling, denouncing an + enemy, defending himself, or pleading for what really may be dearer than + life. My dear girl, I absolutely thundered at them. It seemed as if my + voice would burst the walls asunder, and when I stopped I saw all their + scared eyes looking at me dubiously. And that was all the effect I had + produced! Only Don Jose’s head had sunk lower and lower on his breast. I + bent my ear to his withered lips, and made out his whisper, something + like, ‘In God’s name, then, Martin, my son!’ I don’t know exactly. There + was the name of God in it, I am certain. It seems to me I have caught his + last breath—the breath of his departing soul on his lips. + </p> + <p> + “He lives yet, it is true. I have seen him since; but it was only a senile + body, lying on its back, covered to the chin, with open eyes, and so still + that you might have said it was breathing no longer. I left him thus, with + Antonia kneeling by the side of the bed, just before I came to this + Italian’s posada, where the ubiquitous death is also waiting. But I know + that Don Jose has really died there, in the Casa Gould, with that whisper + urging me to attempt what no doubt his soul, wrapped up in the sanctity of + diplomatic treaties and solemn declarations, must have abhorred. I had + exclaimed very loud, ‘There is never any God in a country where men will + not help themselves.’ + </p> + <p> + “Meanwhile, Don Juste had begun a pondered oration whose solemn effect was + spoiled by the ridiculous disaster to his beard. I did not wait to make it + out. He seemed to argue that Montero’s (he called him The General) + intentions were probably not evil, though, he went on, ‘that distinguished + man’ (only a week ago we used to call him a gran’ bestia) ‘was perhaps + mistaken as to the true means.’ As you may imagine, I didn’t stay to hear + the rest. I know the intentions of Montero’s brother, Pedrito, the + guerrillero, whom I exposed in Paris, some years ago, in a cafe frequented + by South American students, where he tried to pass himself off for a + Secretary of Legation. He used to come in and talk for hours, twisting his + felt hat in his hairy paws, and his ambition seemed to become a sort of + Duc de Morny to a sort of Napoleon. Already, then, he used to talk of his + brother in inflated terms. He seemed fairly safe from being found out, + because the students, all of the Blanco families, did not, as you may + imagine, frequent the Legation. It was only Decoud, a man without faith + and principles, as they used to say, that went in there sometimes for the + sake of the fun, as it were to an assembly of trained monkeys. I know his + intentions. I have seen him change the plates at table. Whoever is allowed + to live on in terror, I must die the death. + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn’t stay to the end to hear Don Juste Lopez trying to persuade + himself in a grave oration of the clemency and justice, and honesty, and + purity of the brothers Montero. I went out abruptly to seek Antonia. I saw + her in the gallery. As I opened the door, she extended to me her clasped + hands. + </p> + <p> + “‘What are they doing in there?’ she asked. + </p> + <p> + “‘Talking,’ I said, with my eyes looking into hers. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, yes, but—’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Empty speeches,’ I interrupted her. ‘Hiding their fears behind imbecile + hopes. They are all great Parliamentarians there—on the English + model, as you know.’ I was so furious that I could hardly speak. She made + a gesture of despair. + </p> + <p> + “Through the door I held a little ajar behind me, we heard Dun Juste’s + measured mouthing monotone go on from phrase to phrase, like a sort of + awful and solemn madness. + </p> + <p> + “‘After all, the Democratic aspirations have, perhaps, their legitimacy. + The ways of human progress are inscrutable, and if the fate of the country + is in the hand of Montero, we ought—’ + </p> + <p> + “I crashed the door to on that; it was enough; it was too much. There was + never a beautiful face expressing more horror and despair than the face of + Antonia. I couldn’t bear it; I seized her wrists. + </p> + <p> + “‘Have they killed my father in there?’ she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Her eyes blazed with indignation, but as I looked on, fascinated, the + light in them went out. + </p> + <p> + “‘It is a surrender,’ I said. And I remember I was shaking her wrists I + held apart in my hands. ‘But it’s more than talk. Your father told me to + go on in God’s name.’ + </p> + <p> + “My dear girl, there is that in Antonia which would make me believe in the + feasibility of anything. One look at her face is enough to set my brain on + fire. And yet I love her as any other man would—with the heart, and + with that alone. She is more to me than his Church to Father Corbelan (the + Grand Vicar disappeared last night from the town; perhaps gone to join the + band of Hernandez). She is more to me than his precious mine to that + sentimental Englishman. I won’t speak of his wife. She may have been + sentimental once. The San Tome mine stands now between those two people. + ‘Your father himself, Antonia,’ I repeated; ‘your father, do you + understand? has told me to go on.’ + </p> + <p> + “She averted her face, and in a pained voice— + </p> + <p> + “‘He has?’ she cried. ‘Then, indeed, I fear he will never speak again.’ + </p> + <p> + “She freed her wrists from my clutch and began to cry in her handkerchief. + I disregarded her sorrow; I would rather see her miserable than not see + her at all, never any more; for whether I escaped or stayed to die, there + was for us no coming together, no future. And that being so, I had no pity + to waste upon the passing moments of her sorrow. I sent her off in tears + to fetch Dona Emilia and Don Carlos, too. Their sentiment was necessary to + the very life of my plan; the sentimentalism of the people that will never + do anything for the sake of their passionate desire, unless it comes to + them clothed in the fair robes of an idea. + </p> + <p> + “Late at night we formed a small junta of four—the two women, Don + Carlos, and myself—in Mrs. Gould’s blue-and-white boudoir. + </p> + <p> + “El Rey de Sulaco thinks himself, no doubt, a very honest man. And so he + is, if one could look behind his taciturnity. Perhaps he thinks that this + alone makes his honesty unstained. Those Englishmen live on illusions + which somehow or other help them to get a firm hold of the substance. When + he speaks it is by a rare ‘yes’ or ‘no’ that seems as impersonal as the + words of an oracle. But he could not impose on me by his dumb reserve. I + knew what he had in his head; he has his mine in his head; and his wife + had nothing in her head but his precious person, which he has bound up + with the Gould Concession and tied up to that little woman’s neck. No + matter. The thing was to make him present the affair to Holroyd (the Steel + and Silver King) in such a manner as to secure his financial support. At + that time last night, just twenty-four hours ago, we thought the silver of + the mine safe in the Custom House vaults till the north-bound steamer came + to take it away. And as long as the treasure flowed north, without a + break, that utter sentimentalist, Holroyd, would not drop his idea of + introducing, not only justice, industry, peace, to the benighted + continents, but also that pet dream of his of a purer form of + Christianity. Later on, the principal European really in Sulaco, the + engineer-in-chief of the railway, came riding up the Calle, from the + harbour, and was admitted to our conclave. Meantime, the Junta of the + Notables in the great sala was still deliberating; only, one of them had + run out in the corredor to ask the servant whether something to eat + couldn’t be sent in. The first words the engineer-in-chief said as he came + into the boudoir were, ‘What is your house, dear Mrs. Gould? A war + hospital below, and apparently a restaurant above. I saw them carrying + trays full of good things into the sala.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And here, in this boudoir,’ I said, ‘you behold the inner cabinet of the + Occidental Republic that is to be.’ + </p> + <p> + “He was so preoccupied that he didn’t smile at that, he didn’t even look + surprised. + </p> + <p> + “He told us that he was attending to the general dispositions for the + defence of the railway property at the railway yards when he was sent for + to go into the railway telegraph office. The engineer of the railhead, at + the foot of the mountains, wanted to talk to him from his end of the wire. + There was nobody in the office but himself and the operator of the railway + telegraph, who read off the clicks aloud as the tape coiled its length + upon the floor. And the purport of that talk, clicked nervously from a + wooden shed in the depths of the forests, had informed the chief that + President Ribiera had been, or was being, pursued. This was news, indeed, + to all of us in Sulaco. Ribiera himself, when rescued, revived, and + soothed by us, had been inclined to think that he had not been pursued. + </p> + <p> + “Ribiera had yielded to the urgent solicitations of his friends, and had + left the headquarters of his discomfited army alone, under the guidance of + Bonifacio, the muleteer, who had been willing to take the responsibility + with the risk. He had departed at daybreak of the third day. His remaining + forces had melted away during the night. Bonifacio and he rode hard on + horses towards the Cordillera; then they obtained mules, entered the + passes, and crossed the Paramo of Ivie just before a freezing blast swept + over that stony plateau, burying in a drift of snow the little shelter-hut + of stones in which they had spent the night. Afterwards poor Ribiera had + many adventures, got separated from his guide, lost his mount, struggled + down to the Campo on foot, and if he had not thrown himself on the mercy + of a ranchero would have perished a long way from Sulaco. That man, who, + as a matter of fact, recognized him at once, let him have a fresh mule, + which the fugitive, heavy and unskilful, had ridden to death. And it was + true he had been pursued by a party commanded by no less a person than + Pedro Montero, the brother of the general. The cold wind of the Paramo + luckily caught the pursuers on the top of the pass. Some few men, and all + the animals, perished in the icy blast. The stragglers died, but the main + body kept on. They found poor Bonifacio lying half-dead at the foot of a + snow slope, and bayoneted him promptly in the true Civil War style. They + would have had Ribiera, too, if they had not, for some reason or other, + turned off the track of the old Camino Real, only to lose their way in the + forests at the foot of the lower slopes. And there they were at last, + having stumbled in unexpectedly upon the construction camp. The engineer + at the railhead told his chief by wire that he had Pedro Montero + absolutely there, in the very office, listening to the clicks. He was + going to take possession of Sulaco in the name of the Democracy. He was + very overbearing. His men slaughtered some of the Railway Company’s cattle + without asking leave, and went to work broiling the meat on the embers. + Pedrito made many pointed inquiries as to the silver mine, and what had + become of the product of the last six months’ working. He had said + peremptorily, ‘Ask your chief up there by wire, he ought to know; tell him + that Don Pedro Montero, Chief of the Campo and Minister of the Interior of + the new Government, desires to be correctly informed.’ + </p> + <p> + “He had his feet wrapped up in blood-stained rags, a lean, haggard face, + ragged beard and hair, and had walked in limping, with a crooked branch of + a tree for a staff. His followers were perhaps in a worse plight, but + apparently they had not thrown away their arms, and, at any rate, not all + their ammunition. Their lean faces filled the door and the windows of the + telegraph hut. As it was at the same time the bedroom of the + engineer-in-charge there, Montero had thrown himself on his clean blankets + and lay there shivering and dictating requisitions to be transmitted by + wire to Sulaco. He demanded a train of cars to be sent down at once to + transport his men up. + </p> + <p> + “‘To this I answered from my end,’ the engineer-in-chief related to us, + ‘that I dared not risk the rolling-stock in the interior, as there had + been attempts to wreck trains all along the line several times. I did that + for your sake, Gould,’ said the chief engineer. ‘The answer to this was, + in the words of my subordinate, “The filthy brute on my bed said, ‘Suppose + I were to have you shot?’” To which my subordinate, who, it appears, was + himself operating, remarked that it would not bring the cars up. Upon + that, the other, yawning, said, “Never mind, there is no lack of horses on + the Campo.” And, turning over, went to sleep on Harris’s bed.’ + </p> + <p> + “This is why, my dear girl, I am a fugitive to-night. The last wire from + railhead says that Pedro Montero and his men left at daybreak, after + feeding on asado beef all night. They took all the horses; they will find + more on the road; they’ll be here in less than thirty hours, and thus + Sulaco is no place either for me or the great store of silver belonging to + the Gould Concession. + </p> + <p> + “But that is not the worst. The garrison of Esmeralda has gone over to the + victorious party. We have heard this by means of the telegraphist of the + Cable Company, who came to the Casa Gould in the early morning with the + news. In fact, it was so early that the day had not yet quite broken over + Sulaco. His colleague in Esmeralda had called him up to say that the + garrison, after shooting some of their officers, had taken possession of a + Government steamer laid up in the harbour. It is really a heavy blow for + me. I thought I could depend on every man in this province. It was a + mistake. It was a Monterist Revolution in Esmeralda, just such as was + attempted in Sulaco, only that that one came off. The telegraphist was + signalling to Bernhardt all the time, and his last transmitted words were, + ‘They are bursting in the door, and taking possession of the cable office. + You are cut off. Can do no more.’ + </p> + <p> + “But, as a matter of fact, he managed somehow to escape the vigilance of + his captors, who had tried to stop the communication with the outer world. + He did manage it. How it was done I don’t know, but a few hours afterwards + he called up Sulaco again, and what he said was, ‘The insurgent army has + taken possession of the Government transport in the bay and are filling + her with troops, with the intention of going round the coast to Sulaco. + Therefore look out for yourselves. They will be ready to start in a few + hours, and may be upon you before daybreak.’ + </p> + <p> + “This is all he could say. They drove him away from his instrument this + time for good, because Bernhardt has been calling up Esmeralda ever since + without getting an answer.” + </p> + <p> + After setting these words down in the pocket-book which he was filling up + for the benefit of his sister, Decoud lifted his head to listen. But there + were no sounds, neither in the room nor in the house, except the drip of + the water from the filter into the vast earthenware jar under the wooden + stand. And outside the house there was a great silence. Decoud lowered his + head again over the pocket-book. + </p> + <p> + “I am not running away, you understand,” he wrote on. “I am simply going + away with that great treasure of silver which must be saved at all costs. + Pedro Montero from the Campo and the revolted garrison of Esmeralda from + the sea are converging upon it. That it is there lying ready for them is + only an accident. The real objective is the San Tome mine itself, as you + may well imagine; otherwise the Occidental Province would have been, no + doubt, left alone for many weeks, to be gathered at leisure into the arms + of the victorious party. Don Carlos Gould will have enough to do to save + his mine, with its organization and its people; this ‘Imperium in + Imperio,’ this wealth-producing thing, to which his sentimentalism + attaches a strange idea of justice. He holds to it as some men hold to the + idea of love or revenge. Unless I am much mistaken in the man, it must + remain inviolate or perish by an act of his will alone. A passion has + crept into his cold and idealistic life. A passion which I can only + comprehend intellectually. A passion that is not like the passions we + know, we men of another blood. But it is as dangerous as any of ours. + </p> + <p> + “His wife has understood it, too. That is why she is such a good ally of + mine. She seizes upon all my suggestions with a sure instinct that in the + end they make for the safety of the Gould Concession. And he defers to her + because he trusts her perhaps, but I fancy rather as if he wished to make + up for some subtle wrong, for that sentimental unfaithfulness which + surrenders her happiness, her life, to the seduction of an idea. The + little woman has discovered that he lives for the mine rather than for + her. But let them be. To each his fate, shaped by passion or sentiment. + The principal thing is that she has backed up my advice to get the silver + out of the town, out of the country, at once, at any cost, at any risk. + Don Carlos’ mission is to preserve unstained the fair fame of his mine; + Mrs. Gould’s mission is to save him from the effects of that cold and + overmastering passion, which she dreads more than if it were an + infatuation for another woman. Nostromo’s mission is to save the silver. + The plan is to load it into the largest of the Company’s lighters, and + send it across the gulf to a small port out of Costaguana territory just + on the other side the Azuera, where the first northbound steamer will get + orders to pick it up. The waters here are calm. We shall slip away into + the darkness of the gulf before the Esmeralda rebels arrive; and by the + time the day breaks over the ocean we shall be out of sight, invisible, + hidden by Azuera, which itself looks from the Sulaco shore like a faint + blue cloud on the horizon. + </p> + <p> + “The incorruptible Capataz de Cargadores is the man for that work; and I, + the man with a passion, but without a mission, I go with him to return—to + play my part in the farce to the end, and, if successful, to receive my + reward, which no one but Antonia can give me. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not see her again now before I depart. I left her, as I have + said, by Don Jose’s bedside. The street was dark, the houses shut up, and + I walked out of the town in the night. Not a single street-lamp had been + lit for two days, and the archway of the gate was only a mass of darkness + in the vague form of a tower, in which I heard low, dismal groans, that + seemed to answer the murmurs of a man’s voice. + </p> + <p> + “I recognized something impassive and careless in its tone, characteristic + of that Genoese sailor who, like me, has come casually here to be drawn + into the events for which his scepticism as well as mine seems to + entertain a sort of passive contempt. The only thing he seems to care for, + as far as I have been able to discover, is to be well spoken of. An + ambition fit for noble souls, but also a profitable one for an + exceptionally intelligent scoundrel. Yes. His very words, ‘To be well + spoken of. Si, senor.’ He does not seem to make any difference between + speaking and thinking. Is it sheer naiveness or the practical point of + view, I wonder? Exceptional individualities always interest me, because + they are true to the general formula expressing the moral state of + humanity. + </p> + <p> + “He joined me on the harbour road after I had passed them under the dark + archway without stopping. It was a woman in trouble he had been talking + to. Through discretion I kept silent while he walked by my side. After a + time he began to talk himself. It was not what I expected. It was only an + old woman, an old lace-maker, in search of her son, one of the + street-sweepers employed by the municipality. Friends had come the day + before at daybreak to the door of their hovel calling him out. He had gone + with them, and she had not seen him since; so she had left the food she + had been preparing half-cooked on the extinct embers and had crawled out + as far as the harbour, where she had heard that some town mozos had been + killed on the morning of the riot. One of the Cargadores guarding the + Custom House had brought out a lantern, and had helped her to look at the + few dead left lying about there. Now she was creeping back, having failed + in her search. So she sat down on the stone seat under the arch, moaning, + because she was very tired. The Capataz had questioned her, and after + hearing her broken and groaning tale had advised her to go and look + amongst the wounded in the patio of the Casa Gould. He had also given her + a quarter dollar, he mentioned carelessly.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Why did you do that?’ I asked. ‘Do you know her?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No, senor. I don’t suppose I have ever seen her before. How should I? + She has not probably been out in the streets for years. She is one of + those old women that you find in this country at the back of huts, + crouching over fireplaces, with a stick on the ground by their side, and + almost too feeble to drive away the stray dogs from their cooking-pots. + Caramba! I could tell by her voice that death had forgotten her. But, old + or young, they like money, and will speak well of the man who gives it to + them.’ He laughed a little. ‘Senor, you should have felt the clutch of her + paw as I put the piece in her palm.’ He paused. ‘My last, too,’ he added. + </p> + <p> + “I made no comment. He’s known for his liberality and his bad luck at the + game of monte, which keeps him as poor as when he first came here. + </p> + <p> + “‘I suppose, Don Martin,’ he began, in a thoughtful, speculative tone, + ‘that the Senor Administrador of San Tome will reward me some day if I + save his silver?’ + </p> + <p> + “I said that it could not be otherwise, surely. He walked on, muttering to + himself. ‘Si, si, without doubt, without doubt; and, look you, Senor + Martin, what it is to be well spoken of! There is not another man that + could have been even thought of for such a thing. I shall get something + great for it some day. And let it come soon,’ he mumbled. ‘Time passes in + this country as quick as anywhere else.’ + </p> + <p> + “This, <i>soeur cherie</i>, is my companion in the great escape for the + sake of the great cause. He is more naive than shrewd, more masterful than + crafty, more generous with his personality than the people who make use of + him are with their money. At least, that is what he thinks himself with + more pride than sentiment. I am glad I have made friends with him. As a + companion he acquires more importance than he ever had as a sort of minor + genius in his way—as an original Italian sailor whom I allowed to + come in in the small hours and talk familiarly to the editor of the + Porvenir while the paper was going through the press. And it is curious to + have met a man for whom the value of life seems to consist in personal + prestige. + </p> + <p> + “I am waiting for him here now. On arriving at the posada kept by Viola we + found the children alone down below, and the old Genoese shouted to his + countryman to go and fetch the doctor. Otherwise we would have gone on to + the wharf, where it appears Captain Mitchell with some volunteer Europeans + and a few picked Cargadores are loading the lighter with the silver that + must be saved from Montero’s clutches in order to be used for Montero’s + defeat. Nostromo galloped furiously back towards the town. He has been + long gone already. This delay gives me time to talk to you. By the time + this pocket-book reaches your hands much will have happened. But now it is + a pause under the hovering wing of death in this silent house buried in + the black night, with this dying woman, the two children crouching without + a sound, and that old man whom I can hear through the thickness of the + wall passing up and down with a light rubbing noise no louder than a + mouse. And I, the only other with them, don’t really know whether to count + myself with the living or with the dead. ‘Quien sabe?’ as the people here + are prone to say in answer to every question. But no! feeling for you is + certainly not dead, and the whole thing, the house, the dark night, the + silent children in this dim room, my very presence here—all this is + life, must be life, since it is so much like a dream.” + </p> + <p> + With the writing of the last line there came upon Decoud a moment of + sudden and complete oblivion. He swayed over the table as if struck by a + bullet. The next moment he sat up, confused, with the idea that he had + heard his pencil roll on the floor. The low door of the cafe, wide open, + was filled with the glare of a torch in which was visible half of a horse, + switching its tail against the leg of a rider with a long iron spur + strapped to the naked heel. The two girls were gone, and Nostromo, + standing in the middle of the room, looked at him from under the round + brim of the sombrero low down over his brow. + </p> + <p> + “I have brought that sour-faced English doctor in Senora Gould’s + carriage,” said Nostromo. “I doubt if, with all his wisdom, he can save + the Padrona this time. They have sent for the children. A bad sign that.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down on the end of a bench. “She wants to give them her blessing, I + suppose.” + </p> + <p> + Dazedly Decoud observed that he must have fallen sound asleep, and + Nostromo said, with a vague smile, that he had looked in at the window and + had seen him lying still across the table with his head on his arms. The + English senora had also come in the carriage, and went upstairs at once + with the doctor. She had told him not to wake up Don Martin yet; but when + they sent for the children he had come into the cafe. + </p> + <p> + The half of the horse with its half of the rider swung round outside the + door; the torch of tow and resin in the iron basket which was carried on a + stick at the saddle-bow flared right into the room for a moment, and Mrs. + Gould entered hastily with a very white, tired face. The hood of her dark, + blue cloak had fallen back. Both men rose. + </p> + <p> + “Teresa wants to see you, Nostromo,” she said. The Capataz did not move. + Decoud, with his back to the table, began to button up his coat. + </p> + <p> + “The silver, Mrs. Gould, the silver,” he murmured in English. “Don’t + forget that the Esmeralda garrison have got a steamer. They may appear at + any moment at the harbour entrance.” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor says there is no hope,” Mrs. Gould spoke rapidly, also in + English. “I shall take you down to the wharf in my carriage and then come + back to fetch away the girls.” She changed swiftly into Spanish to address + Nostromo. “Why are you wasting time? Old Giorgio’s wife wishes to see + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to her, senora,” muttered the Capataz. Dr. Monygham now showed + himself, bringing back the children. To Mrs. Gould’s inquiring glance he + only shook his head and went outside at once, followed by Nostromo. + </p> + <p> + The horse of the torch-bearer, motionless, hung his head low, and the + rider had dropped the reins to light a cigarette. The glare of the torch + played on the front of the house crossed by the big black letters of its + inscription in which only the word <i>Italia</i> was lighted fully. The + patch of wavering glare reached as far as Mrs. Gould’s carriage waiting on + the road, with the yellow-faced, portly Ignacio apparently dozing on the + box. By his side Basilio, dark and skinny, held a Winchester carbine in + front of him, with both hands, and peered fearfully into the darkness. + Nostromo touched lightly the doctor’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Is she really dying, senor doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the doctor, with a strange twitch of his scarred cheek. “And + why she wants to see you I cannot imagine.” + </p> + <p> + “She has been like that before,” suggested Nostromo, looking away. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Capataz, I can assure you she will never be like that again,” + snarled Dr. Monygham. “You may go to her or stay away. There is very + little to be got from talking to the dying. But she told Dona Emilia in my + hearing that she has been like a mother to you ever since you first set + foot ashore here.” + </p> + <p> + “Si! And she never had a good word to say for me to anybody. It is more as + if she could not forgive me for being alive, and such a man, too, as she + would have liked her son to be.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe!” exclaimed a mournful deep voice near them. “Women have their own + ways of tormenting themselves.” Giorgio Viola had come out of the house. + He threw a heavy black shadow in the torchlight, and the glare fell on his + big face, on the great bushy head of white hair. He motioned the Capataz + indoors with his extended arm. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham, after busying himself with a little medicament box of + polished wood on the seat of the landau, turned to old Giorgio and thrust + into his big, trembling hand one of the glass-stoppered bottles out of the + case. + </p> + <p> + “Give her a spoonful of this now and then, in water,” he said. “It will + make her easier.” + </p> + <p> + “And there is nothing more for her?” asked the old man, patiently. + </p> + <p> + “No. Not on earth,” said the doctor, with his back to him, clicking the + lock of the medicine case. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo slowly crossed the large kitchen, all dark but for the glow of a + heap of charcoal under the heavy mantel of the cooking-range, where water + was boiling in an iron pot with a loud bubbling sound. Between the two + walls of a narrow staircase a bright light streamed from the sick-room + above; and the magnificent Capataz de Cargadores stepping noiselessly in + soft leather sandals, bushy whiskered, his muscular neck and bronzed chest + bare in the open check shirt, resembled a Mediterranean sailor just come + ashore from some wine or fruit-laden felucca. At the top he paused, broad + shouldered, narrow hipped and supple, looking at the large bed, like a + white couch of state, with a profusion of snowy linen, amongst which the + Padrona sat unpropped and bowed, her handsome, black-browed face bent over + her chest. A mass of raven hair with only a few white threads in it + covered her shoulders; one thick strand fallen forward half veiled her + cheek. Perfectly motionless in that pose, expressing physical anxiety and + unrest, she turned her eyes alone towards Nostromo. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz had a red sash wound many times round his waist, and a heavy + silver ring on the forefinger of the hand he raised to give a twist to his + moustache. + </p> + <p> + “Their revolutions, their revolutions,” gasped Senora Teresa. “Look, Gian’ + Battista, it has killed me at last!” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo said nothing, and the sick woman with an upward glance insisted. + “Look, this one has killed me, while you were away fighting for what did + not concern you, foolish man.” + </p> + <p> + “Why talk like this?” mumbled the Capataz between his teeth. “Will you + never believe in my good sense? It concerns me to keep on being what I am: + every day alike.” + </p> + <p> + “You never change, indeed,” she said, bitterly. “Always thinking of + yourself and taking your pay out in fine words from those who care nothing + for you.” + </p> + <p> + There was between them an intimacy of antagonism as close in its way as + the intimacy of accord and affection. He had not walked along the way of + Teresa’s expectations. It was she who had encouraged him to leave his + ship, in the hope of securing a friend and defender for the girls. The + wife of old Giorgio was aware of her precarious health, and was haunted by + the fear of her aged husband’s loneliness and the unprotected state of the + children. She had wanted to annex that apparently quiet and steady young + man, affectionate and pliable, an orphan from his tenderest age, as he had + told her, with no ties in Italy except an uncle, owner and master of a + felucca, from whose ill-usage he had run away before he was fourteen. He + had seemed to her courageous, a hard worker, determined to make his way in + the world. From gratitude and the ties of habit he would become like a son + to herself and Giorgio; and then, who knows, when Linda had grown up. . . + . Ten years’ difference between husband and wife was not so much. Her own + great man was nearly twenty years older than herself. Gian’ Battista was + an attractive young fellow, besides; attractive to men, women, and + children, just by that profound quietness of personality which, like a + serene twilight, rendered more seductive the promise of his vigorous form + and the resolution of his conduct. + </p> + <p> + Old Giorgio, in profound ignorance of his wife’s views and hopes, had a + great regard for his young countryman. “A man ought not to be tame,” he + used to tell her, quoting the Spanish proverb in defence of the splendid + Capataz. She was growing jealous of his success. He was escaping from her, + she feared. She was practical, and he seemed to her to be an absurd + spendthrift of these qualities which made him so valuable. He got too + little for them. He scattered them with both hands amongst too many + people, she thought. He laid no money by. She railed at his poverty, his + exploits, his adventures, his loves and his reputation; but in her heart + she had never given him up, as though, indeed, he had been her son. + </p> + <p> + Even now, ill as she was, ill enough to feel the chill, black breath of + the approaching end, she had wished to see him. It was like putting out + her benumbed hand to regain her hold. But she had presumed too much on her + strength. She could not command her thoughts; they had become dim, like + her vision. The words faltered on her lips, and only the paramount anxiety + and desire of her life seemed to be too strong for death. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz said, “I have heard these things many times. You are unjust, + but it does not hurt me. Only now you do not seem to have much strength to + talk, and I have but little time to listen. I am engaged in a work of very + great moment.” + </p> + <p> + She made an effort to ask him whether it was true that he had found time + to go and fetch a doctor for her. Nostromo nodded affirmatively. + </p> + <p> + She was pleased: it relieved her sufferings to know that the man had + condescended to do so much for those who really wanted his help. It was a + proof of his friendship. Her voice become stronger. + </p> + <p> + “I want a priest more than a doctor,” she said, pathetically. She did not + move her head; only her eyes ran into the corners to watch the Capataz + standing by the side of her bed. “Would you go to fetch a priest for me + now? Think! A dying woman asks you!” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo shook his head resolutely. He did not believe in priests in their + sacerdotal character. A doctor was an efficacious person; but a priest, as + priest, was nothing, incapable of doing either good or harm. Nostromo did + not even dislike the sight of them as old Giorgio did. The utter + uselessness of the errand was what struck him most. + </p> + <p> + “Padrona,” he said, “you have been like this before, and got better after + a few days. I have given you already the very last moments I can spare. + Ask Senora Gould to send you one.” + </p> + <p> + He was feeling uneasy at the impiety of this refusal. The Padrona believed + in priests, and confessed herself to them. But all women did that. It + could not be of much consequence. And yet his heart felt oppressed for a + moment—at the thought what absolution would mean to her if she + believed in it only ever so little. No matter. It was quite true that he + had given her already the very last moment he could spare. + </p> + <p> + “You refuse to go?” she gasped. “Ah! you are always yourself, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to reason, Padrona,” he said. “I am needed to save the silver of + the mine. Do you hear? A greater treasure than the one which they say is + guarded by ghosts and devils on Azuera. It is true. I am resolved to make + this the most desperate affair I was ever engaged on in my whole life.” + </p> + <p> + She felt a despairing indignation. The supreme test had failed. Standing + above her, Nostromo did not see the distorted features of her face, + distorted by a paroxysm of pain and anger. Only she began to tremble all + over. Her bowed head shook. The broad shoulders quivered. + </p> + <p> + “Then God, perhaps, will have mercy upon me! But do you look to it, man, + that you get something for yourself out of it, besides the remorse that + shall overtake you some day.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed feebly. “Get riches at least for once, you indispensable, + admired Gian’ Battista, to whom the peace of a dying woman is less than + the praise of people who have given you a silly name—and nothing + besides—in exchange for your soul and body.” + </p> + <p> + The Capataz de Cargadores swore to himself under his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Leave my soul alone, Padrona, and I shall know how to take care of my + body. Where is the harm of people having need of me? What are you envying + me that I have robbed you and the children of? Those very people you are + throwing in my teeth have done more for old Giorgio than they ever thought + of doing for me.” + </p> + <p> + He struck his breast with his open palm; his voice had remained low though + he had spoken in a forcible tone. He twisted his moustaches one after + another, and his eyes wandered a little about the room. + </p> + <p> + “Is it my fault that I am the only man for their purposes? What angry + nonsense are you talking, mother? Would you rather have me timid and + foolish, selling water-melons on the market-place or rowing a boat for + passengers along the harbour, like a soft Neapolitan without courage or + reputation? Would you have a young man live like a monk? I do not believe + it. Would you want a monk for your eldest girl? Let her grow. What are you + afraid of? You have been angry with me for everything I did for years; + ever since you first spoke to me, in secret from old Giorgio, about your + Linda. Husband to one and brother to the other, did you say? Well, why + not! I like the little ones, and a man must marry some time. But ever + since that time you have been making little of me to everyone. Why? Did + you think you could put a collar and chain on me as if I were one of the + watch-dogs they keep over there in the railway yards? Look here, Padrona, + I am the same man who came ashore one evening and sat down in the thatched + ranche you lived in at that time on the other side of the town and told + you all about himself. You were not unjust to me then. What has happened + since? I am no longer an insignificant youth. A good name, Giorgio says, + is a treasure, Padrona.” + </p> + <p> + “They have turned your head with their praises,” gasped the sick woman. + “They have been paying you with words. Your folly shall betray you into + poverty, misery, starvation. The very leperos shall laugh at you—the + great Capataz.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo stood for a time as if struck dumb. She never looked at him. A + self-confident, mirthless smile passed quickly from his lips, and then he + backed away. His disregarded figure sank down beyond the doorway. He + descended the stairs backwards, with the usual sense of having been + somehow baffled by this woman’s disparagement of this reputation he had + obtained and desired to keep. + </p> + <p> + Downstairs in the big kitchen a candle was burning, surrounded by the + shadows of the walls, of the ceiling, but no ruddy glare filled the open + square of the outer door. The carriage with Mrs. Gould and Don Martin, + preceded by the horseman bearing the torch, had gone on to the jetty. Dr. + Monygham, who had remained, sat on the corner of a hard wood table near + the candlestick, his seamed, shaven face inclined sideways, his arms + crossed on his breast, his lips pursed up, and his prominent eyes glaring + stonily upon the floor of black earth. Near the overhanging mantel of the + fireplace, where the pot of water was still boiling violently, old Giorgio + held his chin in his hand, one foot advanced, as if arrested by a sudden + thought. + </p> + <p> + “Adios, viejo,” said Nostromo, feeling the handle of his revolver in the + belt and loosening his knife in its sheath. He picked up a blue poncho + lined with red from the table, and put it over his head. “Adios, look + after the things in my sleeping-room, and if you hear from me no more, + give up the box to Paquita. There is not much of value there, except my + new serape from Mexico, and a few silver buttons on my best jacket. No + matter! The things will look well enough on the next lover she gets, and + the man need not be afraid I shall linger on earth after I am dead, like + those Gringos that haunt the Azuera.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham twisted his lips into a bitter smile. After old Giorgio, with + an almost imperceptible nod and without a word, had gone up the narrow + stairs, he said— + </p> + <p> + “Why, Capataz! I thought you could never fail in anything.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo, glancing contemptuously at the doctor, lingered in the doorway + rolling a cigarette, then struck a match, and, after lighting it, held the + burning piece of wood above his head till the flame nearly touched his + fingers. + </p> + <p> + “No wind!” he muttered to himself. “Look here, senor—do you know the + nature of my undertaking?” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham nodded sourly. + </p> + <p> + “It is as if I were taking up a curse upon me, senor doctor. A man with a + treasure on this coast will have every knife raised against him in every + place upon the shore. You see that, senor doctor? I shall float along with + a spell upon my life till I meet somewhere the north-bound steamer of the + Company, and then indeed they will talk about the Capataz of the Sulaco + Cargadores from one end of America to another.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham laughed his short, throaty laugh. Nostromo turned round in + the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “But if your worship can find any other man ready and fit for such + business I will stand back. I am not exactly tired of my life, though I am + so poor that I can carry all I have with myself on my horse’s back.” + </p> + <p> + “You gamble too much, and never say ‘no’ to a pretty face, Capataz,” said + Dr. Monygham, with sly simplicity. “That’s not the way to make a fortune. + But nobody that I know ever suspected you of being poor. I hope you have + made a good bargain in case you come back safe from this adventure.” + </p> + <p> + “What bargain would your worship have made?” asked Nostromo, blowing the + smoke out of his lips through the doorway. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham listened up the staircase for a moment before he answered, + with another of his short, abrupt laughs— + </p> + <p> + “Illustrious Capataz, for taking the curse of death upon my back, as you + call it, nothing else but the whole treasure would do.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo vanished out of the doorway with a grunt of discontent at this + jeering answer. Dr. Monygham heard him gallop away. Nostromo rode + furiously in the dark. There were lights in the buildings of the O.S.N. + Company near the wharf, but before he got there he met the Gould carriage. + The horseman preceded it with the torch, whose light showed the white + mules trotting, the portly Ignacio driving, and Basilio with the carbine + on the box. From the dark body of the landau Mrs. Gould’s voice cried, + “They are waiting for you, Capataz!” She was returning, chilly and + excited, with Decoud’s pocket-book still held in her hand. He had confided + it to her to send to his sister. “Perhaps my last words to her,” he had + said, pressing Mrs. Gould’s hand. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz never checked his speed. At the head of the wharf vague + figures with rifles leapt to the head of his horse; others closed upon him—cargadores + of the company posted by Captain Mitchell on the watch. At a word from him + they fell back with subservient murmurs, recognizing his voice. At the + other end of the jetty, near a cargo crane, in a dark group with glowing + cigars, his name was pronounced in a tone of relief. Most of the Europeans + in Sulaco were there, rallied round Charles Gould, as if the silver of the + mine had been the emblem of a common cause, the symbol of the supreme + importance of material interests. They had loaded it into the lighter with + their own hands. Nostromo recognized Don Carlos Gould, a thin, tall shape + standing a little apart and silent, to whom another tall shape, the + engineer-in-chief, said aloud, “If it must be lost, it is a million times + better that it should go to the bottom of the sea.” + </p> + <p> + Martin Decoud called out from the lighter, “<i>Au revoir</i>, messieurs, + till we clasp hands again over the new-born Occidental Republic.” Only a + subdued murmur responded to his clear, ringing tones; and then it seemed + to him that the wharf was floating away into the night; but it was + Nostromo, who was already pushing against a pile with one of the heavy + sweeps. Decoud did not move; the effect was that of being launched into + space. After a splash or two there was not a sound but the thud of + Nostromo’s feet leaping about the boat. He hoisted the big sail; a breath + of wind fanned Decoud’s cheek. Everything had vanished but the light of + the lantern Captain Mitchell had hoisted upon the post at the end of the + jetty to guide Nostromo out of the harbour. + </p> + <p> + The two men, unable to see each other, kept silent till the lighter, + slipping before the fitful breeze, passed out between almost invisible + headlands into the still deeper darkness of the gulf. For a time the + lantern on the jetty shone after them. The wind failed, then fanned up + again, but so faintly that the big, half-decked boat slipped along with no + more noise than if she had been suspended in the air. + </p> + <p> + “We are out in the gulf now,” said the calm voice of Nostromo. A moment + after he added, “Senor Mitchell has lowered the light.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Decoud; “nobody can find us now.” + </p> + <p> + A great recrudescence of obscurity embraced the boat. The sea in the gulf + was as black as the clouds above. Nostromo, after striking a couple of + matches to get a glimpse of the boat-compass he had with him in the + lighter, steered by the feel of the wind on his cheek. + </p> + <p> + It was a new experience for Decoud, this mysteriousness of the great + waters spread out strangely smooth, as if their restlessness had been + crushed by the weight of that dense night. The Placido was sleeping + profoundly under its black poncho. + </p> + <p> + The main thing now for success was to get away from the coast and gain the + middle of the gulf before day broke. The Isabels were somewhere at hand. + “On your left as you look forward, senor,” said Nostromo, suddenly. When + his voice ceased, the enormous stillness, without light or sound, seemed + to affect Decoud’s senses like a powerful drug. He didn’t even know at + times whether he were asleep or awake. Like a man lost in slumber, he + heard nothing, he saw nothing. Even his hand held before his face did not + exist for his eyes. The change from the agitation, the passions and the + dangers, from the sights and sounds of the shore, was so complete that it + would have resembled death had it not been for the survival of his + thoughts. In this foretaste of eternal peace they floated vivid and light, + like unearthly clear dreams of earthly things that may haunt the souls + freed by death from the misty atmosphere of regrets and hopes. Decoud + shook himself, shuddered a bit, though the air that drifted past him was + warm. He had the strangest sensation of his soul having just returned into + his body from the circumambient darkness in which land, sea, sky, the + mountains, and the rocks were as if they had not been. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo’s voice was speaking, though he, at the tiller, was also as if he + were not. “Have you been asleep, Don Martin? Caramba! If it were possible + I would think that I, too, have dozed off. I have a strange notion somehow + of having dreamt that there was a sound of blubbering, a sound a sorrowing + man could make, somewhere near this boat. Something between a sigh and a + sob.” + </p> + <p> + “Strange!” muttered Decoud, stretched upon the pile of treasure boxes + covered by many tarpaulins. “Could it be that there is another boat near + us in the gulf? We could not see it, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo laughed a little at the absurdity of the idea. They dismissed it + from their minds. The solitude could almost be felt. And when the breeze + ceased, the blackness seemed to weigh upon Decoud like a stone. + </p> + <p> + “This is overpowering,” he muttered. “Do we move at all, Capataz?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so fast as a crawling beetle tangled in the grass,” answered + Nostromo, and his voice seemed deadened by the thick veil of obscurity + that felt warm and hopeless all about them. There were long periods when + he made no sound, invisible and inaudible as if he had mysteriously + stepped out of the lighter. + </p> + <p> + In the featureless night Nostromo was not even certain which way the + lighter headed after the wind had completely died out. He peered for the + islands. There was not a hint of them to be seen, as if they had sunk to + the bottom of the gulf. He threw himself down by the side of Decoud at + last, and whispered into his ear that if daylight caught them near the + Sulaco shore through want of wind, it would be possible to sweep the + lighter behind the cliff at the high end of the Great Isabel, where she + would lie concealed. Decoud was surprised at the grimness of his anxiety. + To him the removal of the treasure was a political move. It was necessary + for several reasons that it should not fall into the hands of Montero, but + here was a man who took another view of this enterprise. The Caballeros + over there did not seem to have the slightest idea of what they had given + him to do. Nostromo, as if affected by the gloom around, seemed nervously + resentful. Decoud was surprised. The Capataz, indifferent to those dangers + that seemed obvious to his companion, allowed himself to become scornfully + exasperated by the deadly nature of the trust put, as a matter of course, + into his hands. It was more dangerous, Nostromo said, with a laugh and a + curse, than sending a man to get the treasure that people said was guarded + by devils and ghosts in the deep ravines of Azuera. “Senor,” he said, “we + must catch the steamer at sea. We must keep out in the open looking for + her till we have eaten and drunk all that has been put on board here. And + if we miss her by some mischance, we must keep away from the land till we + grow weak, and perhaps mad, and die, and drift dead, until one or another + of the steamers of the Compania comes upon the boat with the two dead men + who have saved the treasure. That, senor, is the only way to save it; for, + don’t you see? for us to come to the land anywhere in a hundred miles + along this coast with this silver in our possession is to run the naked + breast against the point of a knife. This thing has been given to me like + a deadly disease. If men discover it I am dead, and you, too, senor, since + you would come with me. There is enough silver to make a whole province + rich, let alone a seaboard pueblo inhabited by thieves and vagabonds. + Senor, they would think that heaven itself sent these riches into their + hands, and would cut our throats without hesitation. I would trust no fair + words from the best man around the shores of this wild gulf. Reflect that, + even by giving up the treasure at the first demand, we would not be able + to save our lives. Do you understand this, or must I explain?” + </p> + <p> + “No, you needn’t explain,” said Decoud, a little listlessly. “I can see it + well enough myself, that the possession of this treasure is very much like + a deadly disease for men situated as we are. But it had to be removed from + Sulaco, and you were the man for the task.” + </p> + <p> + “I was; but I cannot believe,” said Nostromo, “that its loss would have + impoverished Don Carlos Gould very much. There is more wealth in the + mountain. I have heard it rolling down the shoots on quiet nights when I + used to ride to Rincon to see a certain girl, after my work at the harbour + was done. For years the rich rocks have been pouring down with a noise + like thunder, and the miners say that there is enough at the heart of the + mountain to thunder on for years and years to come. And yet, the day + before yesterday, we have been fighting to save it from the mob, and + to-night I am sent out with it into this darkness, where there is no wind + to get away with; as if it were the last lot of silver on earth to get + bread for the hungry with. Ha! ha! Well, I am going to make it the most + famous and desperate affair of my life—wind or no wind. It shall be + talked about when the little children are grown up and the grown men are + old. Aha! the Monterists must not get hold of it, I am told, whatever + happens to Nostromo the Capataz; and they shall not have it, I tell you, + since it has been tied for safety round Nostromo’s neck.” + </p> + <p> + “I see it,” murmured Decoud. He saw, indeed, that his companion had his + own peculiar view of this enterprise. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo interrupted his reflections upon the way men’s qualities are made + use of, without any fundamental knowledge of their nature, by the proposal + they should slip the long oars out and sweep the lighter in the direction + of the Isabels. It wouldn’t do for daylight to reveal the treasure + floating within a mile or so of the harbour entrance. The denser the + darkness generally, the smarter were the puffs of wind on which he had + reckoned to make his way; but tonight the gulf, under its poncho of + clouds, remained breathless, as if dead rather than asleep. + </p> + <p> + Don Martin’s soft hands suffered cruelly, tugging at the thick handle of + the enormous oar. He stuck to it manfully, setting his teeth. He, too, was + in the toils of an imaginative existence, and that strange work of pulling + a lighter seemed to belong naturally to the inception of a new state, + acquired an ideal meaning from his love for Antonia. For all their + efforts, the heavily laden lighter hardly moved. Nostromo could be heard + swearing to himself between the regular splashes of the sweeps. “We are + making a crooked path,” he muttered to himself. “I wish I could see the + islands.” + </p> + <p> + In his unskilfulness Don Martin over-exerted himself. Now and then a sort + of muscular faintness would run from the tips of his aching fingers + through every fibre of his body, and pass off in a flush of heat. He had + fought, talked, suffered mentally and physically, exerting his mind and + body for the last forty-eight hours without intermission. He had had no + rest, very little food, no pause in the stress of his thoughts and his + feelings. Even his love for Antonia, whence he drew his strength and his + inspiration, had reached the point of tragic tension during their hurried + interview by Don Jose’s bedside. And now, suddenly, he was thrown out of + all this into a dark gulf, whose very gloom, silence, and breathless peace + added a torment to the necessity for physical exertion. He imagined the + lighter sinking to the bottom with an extraordinary shudder of delight. “I + am on the verge of delirium,” he thought. He mastered the trembling of all + his limbs, of his breast, the inward trembling of all his body exhausted + of its nervous force. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we rest, Capataz?” he proposed in a careless tone. “There are many + hours of night yet before us.” + </p> + <p> + “True. It is but a mile or so, I suppose. Rest your arms, senor, if that + is what you mean. You will find no other sort of rest, I can promise you, + since you let yourself be bound to this treasure whose loss would make no + poor man poorer. No, senor; there is no rest till we find a north-bound + steamer, or else some ship finds us drifting about stretched out dead upon + the Englishman’s silver. Or rather—no; por Dios! I shall cut down + the gunwale with the axe right to the water’s edge before thirst and + hunger rob me of my strength. By all the saints and devils I shall let the + sea have the treasure rather than give it up to any stranger. Since it was + the good pleasure of the Caballeros to send me off on such an errand, they + shall learn I am just the man they take me for.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud lay on the silver boxes panting. All his active sensations and + feelings from as far back as he could remember seemed to him the maddest + of dreams. Even his passionate devotion to Antonia into which he had + worked himself up out of the depths of his scepticism had lost all + appearance of reality. For a moment he was the prey of an extremely + languid but not unpleasant indifference. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure they didn’t mean you to take such a desperate view of this + affair,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “What was it, then? A joke?” snarled the man, who on the pay-sheets of the + O.S.N. Company’s establishment in Sulaco was described as “Foreman of the + wharf” against the figure of his wages. “Was it for a joke they woke me up + from my sleep after two days of street fighting to make me stake my life + upon a bad card? Everybody knows, too, that I am not a lucky gambler.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, everybody knows of your good luck with women, Capataz,” Decoud + propitiated his companion in a weary drawl. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, senor,” Nostromo went on. “I never even remonstrated about + this affair. Directly I heard what was wanted I saw what a desperate + affair it must be, and I made up my mind to see it out. Every minute was + of importance. I had to wait for you first. Then, when we arrived at the + Italia Una, old Giorgio shouted to me to go for the English doctor. Later + on, that poor dying woman wanted to see me, as you know. Senor, I was + reluctant to go. I felt already this cursed silver growing heavy upon my + back, and I was afraid that, knowing herself to be dying, she would ask me + to ride off again for a priest. Father Corbelan, who is fearless, would + have come at a word; but Father Corbelan is far away, safe with the band + of Hernandez, and the populace, that would have liked to tear him to + pieces, are much incensed against the priests. Not a single fat padre + would have consented to put his head out of his hiding-place to-night to + save a Christian soul, except, perhaps, under my protection. That was in + her mind. I pretended I did not believe she was going to die. Senor, I + refused to fetch a priest for a dying woman. . . .” + </p> + <p> + Decoud was heard to stir. + </p> + <p> + “You did, Capataz!” he exclaimed. His tone changed. “Well, you know—it + was rather fine.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not believe in priests, Don Martin? Neither do I. What was the use + of wasting time? But she—she believes in them. The thing sticks in + my throat. She may be dead already, and here we are floating helpless with + no wind at all. Curse on all superstition. She died thinking I deprived + her of Paradise, I suppose. It shall be the most desperate affair of my + life.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud remained lost in reflection. He tried to analyze the sensations + awaked by what he had been told. The voice of the Capataz was heard again: + </p> + <p> + “Now, Don Martin, let us take up the sweeps and try to find the Isabels. + It is either that or sinking the lighter if the day overtakes us. We must + not forget that the steamer from Esmeralda with the soldiers may be coming + along. We will pull straight on now. I have discovered a bit of a candle + here, and we must take the risk of a small light to make a course by the + boat compass. There is not enough wind to blow it out—may the curse + of Heaven fall upon this blind gulf!” + </p> + <p> + A small flame appeared burning quite straight. It showed fragmentarily the + stout ribs and planking in the hollow, empty part of the lighter. Decoud + could see Nostromo standing up to pull. He saw him as high as the red sash + on his waist, with a gleam of a white-handled revolver and the wooden haft + of a long knife protruding on his left side. Decoud nerved himself for the + effort of rowing. Certainly there was not enough wind to blow the candle + out, but its flame swayed a little to the slow movement of the heavy boat. + It was so big that with their utmost efforts they could not move it + quicker than about a mile an hour. This was sufficient, however, to sweep + them amongst the Isabels long before daylight came. There was a good six + hours of darkness before them, and the distance from the harbour to the + Great Isabel did not exceed two miles. Decoud put this heavy toil to the + account of the Capataz’s impatience. Sometimes they paused, and then + strained their ears to hear the boat from Esmeralda. In this perfect + quietness a steamer moving would have been heard from far off. As to + seeing anything it was out of the question. They could not see each other. + Even the lighter’s sail, which remained set, was invisible. Very often + they rested. + </p> + <p> + “Caramba!” said Nostromo, suddenly, during one of those intervals when + they lolled idly against the heavy handles of the sweeps. “What is it? Are + you distressed, Don Martin?” + </p> + <p> + Decoud assured him that he was not distressed in the least. Nostromo for a + time kept perfectly still, and then in a whisper invited Martin to come + aft. + </p> + <p> + With his lips touching Decoud’s ear he declared his belief that there was + somebody else besides themselves upon the lighter. Twice now he had heard + the sound of stifled sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Senor,” he whispered with awed wonder, “I am certain that there is + somebody weeping in this lighter.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud had heard nothing. He expressed his incredulity. However, it was + easy to ascertain the truth of the matter. + </p> + <p> + “It is most amazing,” muttered Nostromo. “Could anybody have concealed + himself on board while the lighter was lying alongside the wharf?” + </p> + <p> + “And you say it was like sobbing?” asked Decoud, lowering his voice, too. + “If he is weeping, whoever he is he cannot be very dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + Clambering over the precious pile in the middle, they crouched low on the + foreside of the mast and groped under the half-deck. Right forward, in the + narrowest part, their hands came upon the limbs of a man, who remained as + silent as death. Too startled themselves to make a sound, they dragged him + aft by one arm and the collar of his coat. He was limp—lifeless. + </p> + <p> + The light of the bit of candle fell upon a round, hook-nosed face with + black moustaches and little side-whiskers. He was extremely dirty. A + greasy growth of beard was sprouting on the shaven parts of the cheeks. + The thick lips were slightly parted, but the eyes remained closed. Decoud, + to his immense astonishment, recognized Senor Hirsch, the hide merchant + from Esmeralda. Nostromo, too, had recognized him. And they gazed at each + other across the body, lying with its naked feet higher than its head, in + an absurd pretence of sleep, faintness, or death. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER EIGHT + </h2> + <p> + For a moment, before this extraordinary find, they forgot their own + concerns and sensations. Senor Hirsch’s sensations as he lay there must + have been those of extreme terror. For a long time he refused to give a + sign of life, till at last Decoud’s objurgations, and, perhaps more, + Nostromo’s impatient suggestion that he should be thrown overboard, as he + seemed to be dead, induced him to raise one eyelid first, and then the + other. + </p> + <p> + It appeared that he had never found a safe opportunity to leave Sulaco. He + lodged with Anzani, the universal storekeeper, on the Plaza Mayor. But + when the riot broke out he had made his escape from his host’s house + before daylight, and in such a hurry that he had forgotten to put on his + shoes. He had run out impulsively in his socks, and with his hat in his + hand, into the garden of Anzani’s house. Fear gave him the necessary + agility to climb over several low walls, and afterwards he blundered into + the overgrown cloisters of the ruined Franciscan convent in one of the + by-streets. He forced himself into the midst of matted bushes with the + recklessness of desperation, and this accounted for his scratched body and + his torn clothing. He lay hidden there all day, his tongue cleaving to the + roof of his mouth with all the intensity of thirst engendered by heat and + fear. Three times different bands of men invaded the place with shouts and + imprecations, looking for Father Corbelan; but towards the evening, still + lying on his face in the bushes, he thought he would die from the fear of + silence. He was not very clear as to what had induced him to leave the + place, but evidently he had got out and slunk successfully out of town + along the deserted back lanes. He wandered in the darkness near the + railway, so maddened by apprehension that he dared not even approach the + fires of the pickets of Italian workmen guarding the line. He had a vague + idea evidently of finding refuge in the railway yards, but the dogs rushed + upon him, barking; men began to shout; a shot was fired at random. He fled + away from the gates. By the merest accident, as it happened, he took the + direction of the O.S.N. Company’s offices. Twice he stumbled upon the + bodies of men killed during the day. But everything living frightened him + much more. He crouched, crept, crawled, made dashes, guided by a sort of + animal instinct, keeping away from every light and from every sound of + voices. His idea was to throw himself at the feet of Captain Mitchell and + beg for shelter in the Company’s offices. It was all dark there as he + approached on his hands and knees, but suddenly someone on guard + challenged loudly, “Quien vive?” There were more dead men lying about, and + he flattened himself down at once by the side of a cold corpse. He heard a + voice saying, “Here is one of those wounded rascals crawling about. Shall + I go and finish him?” And another voice objected that it was not safe to + go out without a lantern upon such an errand; perhaps it was only some + negro Liberal looking for a chance to stick a knife into the stomach of an + honest man. Hirsch didn’t stay to hear any more, but crawling away to the + end of the wharf, hid himself amongst a lot of empty casks. After a while + some people came along, talking, and with glowing cigarettes. He did not + stop to ask himself whether they would be likely to do him any harm, but + bolted incontinently along the jetty, saw a lighter lying moored at the + end, and threw himself into it. In his desire to find cover he crept right + forward under the half-deck, and he had remained there more dead than + alive, suffering agonies of hunger and thirst, and almost fainting with + terror, when he heard numerous footsteps and the voices of the Europeans + who came in a body escorting the wagonload of treasure, pushed along the + rails by a squad of Cargadores. He understood perfectly what was being + done from the talk, but did not disclose his presence from the fear that + he would not be allowed to remain. His only idea at the time, overpowering + and masterful, was to get away from this terrible Sulaco. And now he + regretted it very much. He had heard Nostromo talk to Decoud, and wished + himself back on shore. He did not desire to be involved in any desperate + affair—in a situation where one could not run away. The involuntary + groans of his anguished spirit had betrayed him to the sharp ears of the + Capataz. + </p> + <p> + They had propped him up in a sitting posture against the side of the + lighter, and he went on with the moaning account of his adventures till + his voice broke, his head fell forward. “Water,” he whispered, with + difficulty. Decoud held one of the cans to his lips. He revived after an + extraordinarily short time, and scrambled up to his feet wildly. Nostromo, + in an angry and threatening voice, ordered him forward. Hirsch was one of + those men whom fear lashes like a whip, and he must have had an appalling + idea of the Capataz’s ferocity. He displayed an extraordinary agility in + disappearing forward into the darkness. They heard him getting over the + tarpaulin; then there was the sound of a heavy fall, followed by a weary + sigh. Afterwards all was still in the fore-part of the lighter, as though + he had killed himself in his headlong tumble. Nostromo shouted in a + menacing voice— + </p> + <p> + “Lie still there! Do not move a limb. If I hear as much as a loud breath + from you I shall come over there and put a bullet through your head.” + </p> + <p> + The mere presence of a coward, however passive, brings an element of + treachery into a dangerous situation. Nostromo’s nervous impatience passed + into gloomy thoughtfulness. Decoud, in an undertone, as if speaking to + himself, remarked that, after all, this bizarre event made no great + difference. He could not conceive what harm the man could do. At most he + would be in the way, like an inanimate and useless object—like a + block of wood, for instance. + </p> + <p> + “I would think twice before getting rid of a piece of wood,” said + Nostromo, calmly. “Something may happen unexpectedly where you could make + use of it. But in an affair like ours a man like this ought to be thrown + overboard. Even if he were as brave as a lion we would not want him here. + We are not running away for our lives. Senor, there is no harm in a brave + man trying to save himself with ingenuity and courage; but you have heard + his tale, Don Martin. His being here is a miracle of fear—” Nostromo + paused. “There is no room for fear in this lighter,” he added through his + teeth. + </p> + <p> + Decoud had no answer to make. It was not a position for argument, for a + display of scruples or feelings. There were a thousand ways in which a + panic-stricken man could make himself dangerous. It was evident that + Hirsch could not be spoken to, reasoned with, or persuaded into a rational + line of conduct. The story of his own escape demonstrated that clearly + enough. Decoud thought that it was a thousand pities the wretch had not + died of fright. Nature, who had made him what he was, seemed to have + calculated cruelly how much he could bear in the way of atrocious anguish + without actually expiring. Some compassion was due to so much terror. + Decoud, though imaginative enough for sympathy, resolved not to interfere + with any action that Nostromo would take. But Nostromo did nothing. And + the fate of Senor Hirsch remained suspended in the darkness of the gulf at + the mercy of events which could not be foreseen. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz, extending his hand, put out the candle suddenly. It was to + Decoud as if his companion had destroyed, by a single touch, the world of + affairs, of loves, of revolution, where his complacent superiority + analyzed fearlessly all motives and all passions, including his own. + </p> + <p> + He gasped a little. Decoud was affected by the novelty of his position. + Intellectually self-confident, he suffered from being deprived of the only + weapon he could use with effect. No intelligence could penetrate the + darkness of the Placid Gulf. There remained only one thing he was certain + of, and that was the overweening vanity of his companion. It was direct, + uncomplicated, naive, and effectual. Decoud, who had been making use of + him, had tried to understand his man thoroughly. He had discovered a + complete singleness of motive behind the varied manifestations of a + consistent character. This was why the man remained so astonishingly + simple in the jealous greatness of his conceit. And now there was a + complication. It was evident that he resented having been given a task in + which there were so many chances of failure. “I wonder,” thought Decoud, + “how he would behave if I were not here.” + </p> + <p> + He heard Nostromo mutter again, “No! there is no room for fear on this + lighter. Courage itself does not seem good enough. I have a good eye and a + steady hand; no man can say he ever saw me tired or uncertain what to do; + but por Dios, Don Martin, I have been sent out into this black calm on a + business where neither a good eye, nor a steady hand, nor judgment are any + use. . . .” He swore a string of oaths in Spanish and Italian under his + breath. “Nothing but sheer desperation will do for this affair.” + </p> + <p> + These words were in strange contrast to the prevailing peace—to this + almost solid stillness of the gulf. A shower fell with an abrupt + whispering sound all round the boat, and Decoud took off his hat, and, + letting his head get wet, felt greatly refreshed. Presently a steady + little draught of air caressed his cheek. The lighter began to move, but + the shower distanced it. The drops ceased to fall upon his head and hands, + the whispering died out in the distance. Nostromo emitted a grunt of + satisfaction, and grasping the tiller, chirruped softly, as sailors do, to + encourage the wind. Never for the last three days had Decoud felt less the + need for what the Capataz would call desperation. + </p> + <p> + “I fancy I hear another shower on the water,” he observed in a tone of + quiet content. “I hope it will catch us up.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo ceased chirruping at once. “You hear another shower?” he said, + doubtfully. A sort of thinning of the darkness seemed to have taken place, + and Decoud could see now the outline of his companion’s figure, and even + the sail came out of the night like a square block of dense snow. + </p> + <p> + The sound which Decoud had detected came along the water harshly. Nostromo + recognized that noise partaking of a hiss and a rustle which spreads out + on all sides of a steamer making her way through a smooth water on a quiet + night. It could be nothing else but the captured transport with troops + from Esmeralda. She carried no lights. The noise of her steaming, growing + louder every minute, would stop at times altogether, and then begin again + abruptly, and sound startlingly nearer; as if that invisible vessel, whose + position could not be precisely guessed, were making straight for the + lighter. Meantime, that last kept on sailing slowly and noiselessly before + a breeze so faint that it was only by leaning over the side and feeling + the water slip through his fingers that Decoud convinced himself they were + moving at all. His drowsy feeling had departed. He was glad to know that + the lighter was moving. After so much stillness the noise of the steamer + seemed uproarious and distracting. There was a weirdness in not being able + to see her. Suddenly all was still. She had stopped, but so close to them + that the steam, blowing off, sent its rumbling vibration right over their + heads. + </p> + <p> + “They are trying to make out where they are,” said Decoud in a whisper. + Again he leaned over and put his fingers into the water. “We are moving + quite smartly,” he informed Nostromo. + </p> + <p> + “We seem to be crossing her bows,” said the Capataz in a cautious tone. + “But this is a blind game with death. Moving on is of no use. We mustn’t + be seen or heard.” + </p> + <p> + His whisper was hoarse with excitement. Of all his face there was nothing + visible but a gleam of white eyeballs. His fingers gripped Decoud’s + shoulder. “That is the only way to save this treasure from this steamer + full of soldiers. Any other would have carried lights. But you observe + there is not a gleam to show us where she is.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud stood as if paralyzed; only his thoughts were wildly active. In the + space of a second he remembered the desolate glance of Antonia as he left + her at the bedside of her father in the gloomy house of Avellanos, with + shuttered windows, but all the doors standing open, and deserted by all + the servants except an old negro at the gate. He remembered the Casa Gould + on his last visit, the arguments, the tones of his voice, the impenetrable + attitude of Charles, Mrs. Gould’s face so blanched with anxiety and + fatigue that her eyes seemed to have changed colour, appearing nearly + black by contrast. Even whole sentences of the proclamation which he meant + to make Barrios issue from his headquarters at Cayta as soon as he got + there passed through his mind; the very germ of the new State, the + Separationist proclamation which he had tried before he left to read + hurriedly to Don Jose, stretched out on his bed under the fixed gaze of + his daughter. God knows whether the old statesman had understood it; he + was unable to speak, but he had certainly lifted his arm off the coverlet; + his hand had moved as if to make the sign of the cross in the air, a + gesture of blessing, of consent. Decoud had that very draft in his pocket, + written in pencil on several loose sheets of paper, with the + heavily-printed heading, “Administration of the San Tome Silver Mine. + Sulaco. Republic of Costaguana.” He had written it furiously, snatching + page after page on Charles Gould’s table. Mrs. Gould had looked several + times over his shoulder as he wrote; but the Senor Administrador, standing + straddle-legged, would not even glance at it when it was finished. He had + waved it away firmly. It must have been scorn, and not caution, since he + never made a remark about the use of the Administration’s paper for such a + compromising document. And that showed his disdain, the true English + disdain of common prudence, as if everything outside the range of their + own thoughts and feelings were unworthy of serious recognition. Decoud had + the time in a second or two to become furiously angry with Charles Gould, + and even resentful against Mrs. Gould, in whose care, tacitly it is true, + he had left the safety of Antonia. Better perish a thousand times than owe + your preservation to such people, he exclaimed mentally. The grip of + Nostromo’s fingers never removed from his shoulder, tightening fiercely, + recalled him to himself. + </p> + <p> + “The darkness is our friend,” the Capataz murmured into his ear. “I am + going to lower the sail, and trust our escape to this black gulf. No eyes + could make us out lying silent with a naked mast. I will do it now, before + this steamer closes still more upon us. The faint creak of a block would + betray us and the San Tome treasure into the hands of those thieves.” + </p> + <p> + He moved about as warily as a cat. Decoud heard no sound; and it was only + by the disappearance of the square blotch of darkness that he knew the + yard had come down, lowered as carefully as if it had been made of glass. + Next moment he heard Nostromo’s quiet breathing by his side. + </p> + <p> + “You had better not move at all from where you are, Don Martin,” advised + the Capataz, earnestly. “You might stumble or displace something which + would make a noise. The sweeps and the punting poles are lying about. Move + not for your life. Por Dios, Don Martin,” he went on in a keen but + friendly whisper, “I am so desperate that if I didn’t know your worship to + be a man of courage, capable of standing stock still whatever happens, I + would drive my knife into your heart.” + </p> + <p> + A deathlike stillness surrounded the lighter. It was difficult to believe + that there was near a steamer full of men with many pairs of eyes peering + from her bridge for some hint of land in the night. Her steam had ceased + blowing off, and she remained stopped too far off apparently for any other + sound to reach the lighter. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you would, Capataz,” Decoud began in a whisper. “However, you + need not trouble. There are other things than the fear of your knife to + keep my heart steady. It shall not betray you. Only, have you forgotten—” + </p> + <p> + “I spoke to you openly as to a man as desperate as myself,” explained the + Capataz. “The silver must be saved from the Monterists. I told Captain + Mitchell three times that I preferred to go alone. I told Don Carlos + Gould, too. It was in the Casa Gould. They had sent for me. The ladies + were there; and when I tried to explain why I did not wish to have you + with me, they promised me, both of them, great rewards for your safety. A + strange way to talk to a man you are sending out to an almost certain + death. Those gentlefolk do not seem to have sense enough to understand + what they are giving one to do. I told them I could do nothing for you. + You would have been safer with the bandit Hernandez. It would have been + possible to ride out of the town with no greater risk than a chance shot + sent after you in the dark. But it was as if they had been deaf. I had to + promise I would wait for you under the harbour gate. I did wait. And now + because you are a brave man you are as safe as the silver. Neither more + nor less.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment, as if by way of comment upon Nostromo’s words, the + invisible steamer went ahead at half speed only, as could be judged by the + leisurely beat of her propeller. The sound shifted its place markedly, but + without coming nearer. It even grew a little more distant right abeam of + the lighter, and then ceased again. + </p> + <p> + “They are trying for a sight of the Isabels,” muttered Nostromo, “in order + to make for the harbour in a straight line and seize the Custom House with + the treasure in it. Have you ever seen the Commandant of Esmeralda, + Sotillo? A handsome fellow, with a soft voice. When I first came here I + used to see him in the Calle talking to the senoritas at the windows of + the houses, and showing his white teeth all the time. But one of my + Cargadores, who had been a soldier, told me that he had once ordered a man + to be flayed alive in the remote Campo, where he was sent recruiting + amongst the people of the Estancias. It has never entered his head that + the Compania had a man capable of baffling his game.” + </p> + <p> + The murmuring loquacity of the Capataz disturbed Decoud like a hint of + weakness. And yet, talkative resolution may be as genuine as grim silence. + </p> + <p> + “Sotillo is not baffled so far,” he said. “Have you forgotten that crazy + man forward?” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo had not forgotten Senor Hirsch. He reproached himself bitterly + for not having visited the lighter carefully before leaving the wharf. He + reproached himself for not having stabbed and flung Hirsch overboard at + the very moment of discovery without even looking at his face. That would + have been consistent with the desperate character of the affair. Whatever + happened, Sotillo was already baffled. Even if that wretch, now as silent + as death, did anything to betray the nearness of the lighter, Sotillo—if + Sotillo it was in command of the troops on board—would be still + baffled of his plunder. + </p> + <p> + “I have an axe in my hand,” Nostromo whispered, wrathfully, “that in three + strokes would cut through the side down to the water’s edge. Moreover, + each lighter has a plug in the stern, and I know exactly where it is. I + feel it under the sole of my foot.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud recognized the ring of genuine determination in the nervous + murmurs, the vindictive excitement of the famous Capataz. Before the + steamer, guided by a shriek or two (for there could be no more than that, + Nostromo said, gnashing his teeth audibly), could find the lighter there + would be plenty of time to sink this treasure tied up round his neck. + </p> + <p> + The last words he hissed into Decoud’s ear. Decoud said nothing. He was + perfectly convinced. The usual characteristic quietness of the man was + gone. It was not equal to the situation as he conceived it. Something + deeper, something unsuspected by everyone, had come to the surface. + Decoud, with careful movements, slipped off his overcoat and divested + himself of his boots; he did not consider himself bound in honour to sink + with the treasure. His object was to get down to Barrios, in Cayta, as the + Capataz knew very well; and he, too, meant, in his own way, to put into + that attempt all the desperation of which he was capable. Nostromo + muttered, “True, true! You are a politician, senor. Rejoin the army, and + start another revolution.” He pointed out, however, that there was a + little boat belonging to every lighter fit to carry two men, if not more. + Theirs was towing behind. + </p> + <p> + Of that Decoud had not been aware. Of course, it was too dark to see, and + it was only when Nostromo put his hand upon its painter fastened to a + cleat in the stern that he experienced a full measure of relief. The + prospect of finding himself in the water and swimming, overwhelmed by + ignorance and darkness, probably in a circle, till he sank from + exhaustion, was revolting. The barren and cruel futility of such an end + intimidated his affectation of careless pessimism. In comparison to it, + the chance of being left floating in a boat, exposed to thirst, hunger, + discovery, imprisonment, execution, presented itself with an aspect of + amenity worth securing even at the cost of some self-contempt. He did not + accept Nostromo’s proposal that he should get into the boat at once. + “Something sudden may overwhelm us, senor,” the Capataz remarked promising + faithfully, at the same time, to let go the painter at the moment when the + necessity became manifest. + </p> + <p> + But Decoud assured him lightly that he did not mean to take to the boat + till the very last moment, and that then he meant the Capataz to come + along, too. The darkness of the gulf was no longer for him the end of all + things. It was part of a living world since, pervading it, failure and + death could be felt at your elbow. And at the same time it was a shelter. + He exulted in its impenetrable obscurity. “Like a wall, like a wall,” he + muttered to himself. + </p> + <p> + The only thing which checked his confidence was the thought of Senor + Hirsch. Not to have bound and gagged him seemed to Decoud now the height + of improvident folly. As long as the miserable creature had the power to + raise a yell he was a constant danger. His abject terror was mute now, but + there was no saying from what cause it might suddenly find vent in + shrieks. + </p> + <p> + This very madness of fear which both Decoud and Nostromo had seen in the + wild and irrational glances, and in the continuous twitchings of his + mouth, protected Senor Hirsch from the cruel necessities of this desperate + affair. The moment of silencing him for ever had passed. As Nostromo + remarked, in answer to Decoud’s regrets, it was too late! It could not be + done without noise, especially in the ignorance of the man’s exact + position. Wherever he had elected to crouch and tremble, it was too + hazardous to go near him. He would begin probably to yell for mercy. It + was much better to leave him quite alone since he was keeping so still. + But to trust to his silence became every moment a greater strain upon + Decoud’s composure. + </p> + <p> + “I wish, Capataz, you had not let the right moment pass,” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “What! To silence him for ever? I thought it good to hear first how he + came to be here. It was too strange. Who could imagine that it was all an + accident? Afterwards, senor, when I saw you giving him water to drink, I + could not do it. Not after I had seen you holding up the can to his lips + as though he were your brother. Senor, that sort of necessity must not be + thought of too long. And yet it would have been no cruelty to take away + from him his wretched life. It is nothing but fear. Your compassion saved + him then, Don Martin, and now it is too late. It couldn’t be done without + noise.” + </p> + <p> + In the steamer they were keeping a perfect silence, and the stillness was + so profound that Decoud felt as if the slightest sound conceivable must + travel unchecked and audible to the end of the world. What if Hirsch + coughed or sneezed? To feel himself at the mercy of such an idiotic + contingency was too exasperating to be looked upon with irony. Nostromo, + too, seemed to be getting restless. Was it possible, he asked himself, + that the steamer, finding the night too dark altogether, intended to + remain stopped where she was till daylight? He began to think that this, + after all, was the real danger. He was afraid that the darkness, which was + his protection, would, in the end, cause his undoing. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo, as Nostromo had surmised, was in command on board the transport. + The events of the last forty-eight hours in Sulaco were not known to him; + neither was he aware that the telegraphist in Esmeralda had managed to + warn his colleague in Sulaco. Like a good many officers of the troops + garrisoning the province, Sotillo had been influenced in his adoption of + the Ribierist cause by the belief that it had the enormous wealth of the + Gould Concession on its side. He had been one of the frequenters of the + Casa Gould, where he had aired his Blanco convictions and his ardour for + reform before Don Jose Avellanos, casting frank, honest glances towards + Mrs. Gould and Antonia the while. He was known to belong to a good family + persecuted and impoverished during the tyranny of Guzman Bento. The + opinions he expressed appeared eminently natural and proper in a man of + his parentage and antecedents. And he was not a deceiver; it was perfectly + natural for him to express elevated sentiments while his whole faculties + were taken up with what seemed then a solid and practical notion—the + notion that the husband of Antonia Avellanos would be, naturally, the + intimate friend of the Gould Concession. He even pointed this out to + Anzani once, when negotiating the sixth or seventh small loan in the + gloomy, damp apartment with enormous iron bars, behind the principal shop + in the whole row under the Arcades. He hinted to the universal shopkeeper + at the excellent terms he was on with the emancipated senorita, who was + like a sister to the Englishwoman. He would advance one leg and put his + arms akimbo, posing for Anzani’s inspection, and fixing him with a haughty + stare. + </p> + <p> + “Look, miserable shopkeeper! How can a man like me fail with any woman, + let alone an emancipated girl living in scandalous freedom?” he seemed to + say. + </p> + <p> + His manner in the Casa Gould was, of course, very different—devoid + of all truculence, and even slightly mournful. Like most of his + countrymen, he was carried away by the sound of fine words, especially if + uttered by himself. He had no convictions of any sort upon anything except + as to the irresistible power of his personal advantages. But that was so + firm that even Decoud’s appearance in Sulaco, and his intimacy with the + Goulds and the Avellanos, did not disquiet him. On the contrary, he tried + to make friends with that rich Costaguanero from Europe in the hope of + borrowing a large sum by-and-by. The only guiding motive of his life was + to get money for the satisfaction of his expensive tastes, which he + indulged recklessly, having no self-control. He imagined himself a master + of intrigue, but his corruption was as simple as an animal instinct. At + times, in solitude, he had his moments of ferocity, and also on such + occasions as, for instance, when alone in a room with Anzani trying to get + a loan. + </p> + <p> + He had talked himself into the command of the Esmeralda garrison. That + small seaport had its importance as the station of the main submarine + cable connecting the Occidental Provinces with the outer world, and the + junction with it of the Sulaco branch. Don Jose Avellanos proposed him, + and Barrios, with a rude and jeering guffaw, had said, “Oh, let Sotillo + go. He is a very good man to keep guard over the cable, and the ladies of + Esmeralda ought to have their turn.” Barrios, an indubitably brave man, + had no great opinion of Sotillo. + </p> + <p> + It was through the Esmeralda cable alone that the San Tome mine could be + kept in constant touch with the great financier, whose tacit approval made + the strength of the Ribierist movement. This movement had its adversaries + even there. Sotillo governed Esmeralda with repressive severity till the + adverse course of events upon the distant theatre of civil war forced upon + him the reflection that, after all, the great silver mine was fated to + become the spoil of the victors. But caution was necessary. He began by + assuming a dark and mysterious attitude towards the faithful Ribierist + municipality of Esmeralda. Later on, the information that the commandant + was holding assemblies of officers in the dead of night (which had leaked + out somehow) caused those gentlemen to neglect their civil duties + altogether, and remain shut up in their houses. Suddenly one day all the + letters from Sulaco by the overland courier were carried off by a file of + soldiers from the post office to the Commandancia, without disguise, + concealment, or apology. Sotillo had heard through Cayta of the final + defeat of Ribiera. + </p> + <p> + This was the first open sign of the change in his convictions. Presently + notorious democrats, who had been living till then in constant fear of + arrest, leg irons, and even floggings, could be observed going in and out + at the great door of the Commandancia, where the horses of the orderlies + doze under their heavy saddles, while the men, in ragged uniforms and + pointed straw hats, lounge on a bench, with their naked feet stuck out + beyond the strip of shade; and a sentry, in a red baize coat with holes at + the elbows, stands at the top of the steps glaring haughtily at the common + people, who uncover their heads to him as they pass. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo’s ideas did not soar above the care for his personal safety and + the chance of plundering the town in his charge, but he feared that such a + late adhesion would earn but scant gratitude from the victors. He had + believed just a little too long in the power of the San Tome mine. The + seized correspondence had confirmed his previous information of a large + amount of silver ingots lying in the Sulaco Custom House. To gain + possession of it would be a clear Monterist move; a sort of service that + would have to be rewarded. With the silver in his hands he could make + terms for himself and his soldiers. He was aware neither of the riots, nor + of the President’s escape to Sulaco and the close pursuit led by Montero’s + brother, the guerrillero. The game seemed in his own hands. The initial + moves were the seizure of the cable telegraph office and the securing of + the Government steamer lying in the narrow creek which is the harbour of + Esmeralda. The last was effected without difficulty by a company of + soldiers swarming with a rush over the gangways as she lay alongside the + quay; but the lieutenant charged with the duty of arresting the + telegraphist halted on the way before the only cafe in Esmeralda, where he + distributed some brandy to his men, and refreshed himself at the expense + of the owner, a known Ribierist. The whole party became intoxicated, and + proceeded on their mission up the street yelling and firing random shots + at the windows. This little festivity, which might have turned out + dangerous to the telegraphist’s life, enabled him in the end to send his + warning to Sulaco. The lieutenant, staggering upstairs with a drawn sabre, + was before long kissing him on both cheeks in one of those swift changes + of mood peculiar to a state of drunkenness. He clasped the telegraphist + close round the neck, assuring him that all the officers of the Esmeralda + garrison were going to be made colonels, while tears of happiness streamed + down his sodden face. Thus it came about that the town major, coming along + later, found the whole party sleeping on the stairs and in passages, and + the telegraphist (who scorned this chance of escape) very busy clicking + the key of the transmitter. The major led him away bareheaded, with his + hands tied behind his back, but concealed the truth from Sotillo, who + remained in ignorance of the warning despatched to Sulaco. + </p> + <p> + The colonel was not the man to let any sort of darkness stand in the way + of the planned surprise. It appeared to him a dead certainty; his heart + was set upon his object with an ungovernable, childlike impatience. Ever + since the steamer had rounded Punta Mala, to enter the deeper shadow of + the gulf, he had remained on the bridge in a group of officers as excited + as himself. Distracted between the coaxings and menaces of Sotillo and his + Staff, the miserable commander of the steamer kept her moving with as much + prudence as they would let him exercise. Some of them had been drinking + heavily, no doubt; but the prospect of laying hands on so much wealth made + them absurdly foolhardy, and, at the same time, extremely anxious. The old + major of the battalion, a stupid, suspicious man, who had never been + afloat in his life, distinguished himself by putting out suddenly the + binnacle light, the only one allowed on board for the necessities of + navigation. He could not understand of what use it could be for finding + the way. To the vehement protestations of the ship’s captain, he stamped + his foot and tapped the handle of his sword. “Aha! I have unmasked you,” + he cried, triumphantly. “You are tearing your hair from despair at my + acuteness. Am I a child to believe that a light in that brass box can show + you where the harbour is? I am an old soldier, I am. I can smell a traitor + a league off. You wanted that gleam to betray our approach to your friend + the Englishman. A thing like that show you the way! What a miserable lie! + Que picardia! You Sulaco people are all in the pay of those foreigners. + You deserve to be run through the body with my sword.” Other officers, + crowding round, tried to calm his indignation, repeating persuasively, + “No, no! This is an appliance of the mariners, major. This is no + treachery.” The captain of the transport flung himself face downwards on + the bridge, and refused to rise. “Put an end to me at once,” he repeated + in a stifled voice. Sotillo had to interfere. + </p> + <p> + The uproar and confusion on the bridge became so great that the helmsman + fled from the wheel. He took refuge in the engine-room, and alarmed the + engineers, who, disregarding the threats of the soldiers set on guard over + them, stopped the engines, protesting that they would rather be shot than + run the risk of being drowned down below. + </p> + <p> + This was the first time Nostromo and Decoud heard the steamer stop. After + order had been restored, and the binnacle lamp relighted, she went ahead + again, passing wide of the lighter in her search for the Isabels. The + group could not be made out, and, at the pitiful entreaties of the + captain, Sotillo allowed the engines to be stopped again to wait for one + of those periodical lightenings of darkness caused by the shifting of the + cloud canopy spread above the waters of the gulf. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo, on the bridge, muttered from time to time angrily to the captain. + The other, in an apologetic and cringing tone, begged su merced the + colonel to take into consideration the limitations put upon human + faculties by the darkness of the night. Sotillo swelled with rage and + impatience. It was the chance of a lifetime. + </p> + <p> + “If your eyes are of no more use to you than this, I shall have them put + out,” he yelled. + </p> + <p> + The captain of the steamer made no answer, for just then the mass of the + Great Isabel loomed up darkly after a passing shower, then vanished, as if + swept away by a wave of greater obscurity preceding another downpour. This + was enough for him. In the voice of a man come back to life again, he + informed Sotillo that in an hour he would be alongside the Sulaco wharf. + The ship was put then full speed on the course, and a great bustle of + preparation for landing arose among the soldiers on her deck. + </p> + <p> + It was heard distinctly by Decoud and Nostromo. The Capataz understood its + meaning. They had made out the Isabels, and were going on now in a + straight line for Sulaco. He judged that they would pass close; but + believed that lying still like this, with the sail lowered, the lighter + could not be seen. “No, not even if they rubbed sides with us,” he + muttered. + </p> + <p> + The rain began to fall again; first like a wet mist, then with a heavier + touch, thickening into a smart, perpendicular downpour; and the hiss and + thump of the approaching steamer was coming extremely near. Decoud, with + his eyes full of water, and lowered head, asked himself how long it would + be before she drew past, when unexpectedly he felt a lurch. An inrush of + foam broke swishing over the stern, simultaneously with a crack of timbers + and a staggering shock. He had the impression of an angry hand laying hold + of the lighter and dragging it along to destruction. The shock, of course, + had knocked him down, and he found himself rolling in a lot of water at + the bottom of the lighter. A violent churning went on alongside; a strange + and amazed voice cried out something above him in the night. He heard a + piercing shriek for help from Senor Hirsch. He kept his teeth hard set all + the time. It was a collision! + </p> + <p> + The steamer had struck the lighter obliquely, heeling her over till she + was half swamped, starting some of her timbers, and swinging her head + parallel to her own course with the force of the blow. The shock of it on + board of her was hardly perceptible. All the violence of that collision + was, as usual, felt only on board the smaller craft. Even Nostromo himself + thought that this was perhaps the end of his desperate adventure. He, too, + had been flung away from the long tiller, which took charge in the lurch. + Next moment the steamer would have passed on, leaving the lighter to sink + or swim after having shouldered her thus out of her way, and without even + getting a glimpse of her form, had it not been that, being deeply laden + with stores and the great number of people on board, her anchor was low + enough to hook itself into one of the wire shrouds of the lighter’s mast. + For the space of two or three gasping breaths that new rope held against + the sudden strain. It was this that gave Decoud the sensation of the + snatching pull, dragging the lighter away to destruction. The cause of it, + of course, was inexplicable to him. The whole thing was so sudden that he + had no time to think. But all his sensations were perfectly clear; he had + kept complete possession of himself; in fact, he was even pleasantly aware + of that calmness at the very moment of being pitched head first over the + transom, to struggle on his back in a lot of water. Senor Hirsch’s shriek + he had heard and recognized while he was regaining his feet, always with + that mysterious sensation of being dragged headlong through the darkness. + Not a word, not a cry escaped him; he had no time to see anything; and + following upon the despairing screams for help, the dragging motion ceased + so suddenly that he staggered forward with open arms and fell against the + pile of the treasure boxes. He clung to them instinctively, in the vague + apprehension of being flung about again; and immediately he heard another + lot of shrieks for help, prolonged and despairing, not near him at all, + but unaccountably in the distance, away from the lighter altogether, as if + some spirit in the night were mocking at Senor Hirsch’s terror and + despair. + </p> + <p> + Then all was still—as still as when you wake up in your bed in a + dark room from a bizarre and agitated dream. The lighter rocked slightly; + the rain was still falling. Two groping hands took hold of his bruised + sides from behind, and the Capataz’s voice whispered, in his ear, + “Silence, for your life! Silence! The steamer has stopped.” + </p> + <p> + Decoud listened. The gulf was dumb. He felt the water nearly up to his + knees. “Are we sinking?” he asked in a faint breath. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” Nostromo breathed back to him. “Senor, make not the + slightest sound.” + </p> + <p> + Hirsch, when ordered forward by Nostromo, had not returned into his first + hiding-place. He had fallen near the mast, and had no strength to rise; + moreover, he feared to move. He had given himself up for dead, but not on + any rational grounds. It was simply a cruel and terrifying feeling. + Whenever he tried to think what would become of him his teeth would start + chattering violently. He was too absorbed in the utter misery of his fear + to take notice of anything. + </p> + <p> + Though he was stifling under the lighter’s sail which Nostromo had + unwittingly lowered on top of him, he did not even dare to put out his + head till the very moment of the steamer striking. Then, indeed, he leaped + right out, spurred on to new miracles of bodily vigour by this new shape + of danger. The inrush of water when the lighter heeled over unsealed his + lips. His shriek, “Save me!” was the first distinct warning of the + collision for the people on board the steamer. Next moment the wire shroud + parted, and the released anchor swept over the lighter’s forecastle. It + came against the breast of Senor Hirsch, who simply seized hold of it, + without in the least knowing what it was, but curling his arms and legs + upon the part above the fluke with an invincible, unreasonable tenacity. + The lighter yawed off wide, and the steamer, moving on, carried him away, + clinging hard, and shouting for help. It was some time, however, after the + steamer had stopped that his position was discovered. His sustained + yelping for help seemed to come from somebody swimming in the water. At + last a couple of men went over the bows and hauled him on board. He was + carried straight off to Sotillo on the bridge. His examination confirmed + the impression that some craft had been run over and sunk, but it was + impracticable on such a dark night to look for the positive proof of + floating wreckage. Sotillo was more anxious than ever now to enter the + harbour without loss of time; the idea that he had destroyed the principal + object of his expedition was too intolerable to be accepted. This feeling + made the story he had heard appear the more incredible. Senor Hirsch, + after being beaten a little for telling lies, was thrust into the + chartroom. But he was beaten only a little. His tale had taken the heart + out of Sotillo’s Staff, though they all repeated round their chief, + “Impossible! impossible!” with the exception of the old major, who + triumphed gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “I told you; I told you,” he mumbled. “I could smell some treachery, some + diableria a league off.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the steamer had kept on her way towards Sulaco, where only the + truth of that matter could be ascertained. Decoud and Nostromo heard the + loud churning of her propeller diminish and die out; and then, with no + useless words, busied themselves in making for the Isabels. The last + shower had brought with it a gentle but steady breeze. The danger was not + over yet, and there was no time for talk. The lighter was leaking like a + sieve. They splashed in the water at every step. The Capataz put into + Decoud’s hands the handle of the pump which was fitted at the side aft, + and at once, without question or remark, Decoud began to pump in utter + forgetfulness of every desire but that of keeping the treasure afloat. + Nostromo hoisted the sail, flew back to the tiller, pulled at the sheet + like mad. The short flare of a match (they had been kept dry in a tight + tin box, though the man himself was completely wet), disclosed to the + toiling Decoud the eagerness of his face, bent low over the box of the + compass, and the attentive stare of his eyes. He knew now where he was, + and he hoped to run the sinking lighter ashore in the shallow cove where + the high, cliff-like end of the Great Isabel is divided in two equal parts + by a deep and overgrown ravine. + </p> + <p> + Decoud pumped without intermission. Nostromo steered without relaxing for + a second the intense, peering effort of his stare. Each of them was as if + utterly alone with his task. It did not occur to them to speak. There was + nothing in common between them but the knowledge that the damaged lighter + must be slowly but surely sinking. In that knowledge, which was like the + crucial test of their desires, they seemed to have become completely + estranged, as if they had discovered in the very shock of the collision + that the loss of the lighter would not mean the same thing to them both. + This common danger brought their differences in aim, in view, in + character, and in position, into absolute prominence in the private vision + of each. There was no bond of conviction, of common idea; they were merely + two adventurers pursuing each his own adventure, involved in the same + imminence of deadly peril. Therefore they had nothing to say to each + other. But this peril, this only incontrovertible truth in which they + shared, seemed to act as an inspiration to their mental and bodily powers. + </p> + <p> + There was certainly something almost miraculous in the way the Capataz + made the cove with nothing but the shadowy hint of the island’s shape and + the vague gleam of a small sandy strip for a guide. Where the ravine opens + between the cliffs, and a slender, shallow rivulet meanders out of the + bushes to lose itself in the sea, the lighter was run ashore; and the two + men, with a taciturn, undaunted energy, began to discharge her precious + freight, carrying each ox-hide box up the bed of the rivulet beyond the + bushes to a hollow place which the caving in of the soil had made below + the roots of a large tree. Its big smooth trunk leaned like a falling + column far over the trickle of water running amongst the loose stones. + </p> + <p> + A couple of years before Nostromo had spent a whole Sunday, all alone, + exploring the island. He explained this to Decoud after their task was + done, and they sat, weary in every limb, with their legs hanging down the + low bank, and their backs against the tree, like a pair of blind men aware + of each other and their surroundings by some indefinable sixth sense. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Nostromo repeated, “I never forget a place I have carefully looked + at once.” He spoke slowly, almost lazily, as if there had been a whole + leisurely life before him, instead of the scanty two hours before + daylight. The existence of the treasure, barely concealed in this + improbable spot, laid a burden of secrecy upon every contemplated step, + upon every intention and plan of future conduct. He felt the partial + failure of this desperate affair entrusted to the great reputation he had + known how to make for himself. However, it was also a partial success. His + vanity was half appeased. His nervous irritation had subsided. + </p> + <p> + “You never know what may be of use,” he pursued with his usual quietness + of tone and manner. “I spent a whole miserable Sunday in exploring this + crumb of land.” + </p> + <p> + “A misanthropic sort of occupation,” muttered Decoud, viciously. “You had + no money, I suppose, to gamble with, and to fling about amongst the girls + in your usual haunts, Capataz.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>E vero!</i>” exclaimed the Capataz, surprised into the use of his + native tongue by so much perspicacity. “I had not! Therefore I did not + want to go amongst those beggarly people accustomed to my generosity. It + is looked for from the Capataz of the Cargadores, who are the rich men, + and, as it were, the Caballeros amongst the common people. I don’t care + for cards but as a pastime; and as to those girls that boast of having + opened their doors to my knock, you know I wouldn’t look at any one of + them twice except for what the people would say. They are queer, the good + people of Sulaco, and I have got much useful information simply by + listening patiently to the talk of the women that everybody believed I was + in love with. Poor Teresa could never understand that. On that particular + Sunday, senor, she scolded so that I went out of the house swearing that I + would never darken their door again unless to fetch away my hammock and my + chest of clothes. Senor, there is nothing more exasperating than to hear a + woman you respect rail against your good reputation when you have not a + single brass coin in your pocket. I untied one of the small boats and + pulled myself out of the harbour with nothing but three cigars in my + pocket to help me spend the day on this island. But the water of this + rivulet you hear under your feet is cool and sweet and good, senor, both + before and after a smoke.” He was silent for a while, then added + reflectively, “That was the first Sunday after I brought down the + white-whiskered English rico all the way down the mountains from the + Paramo on the top of the Entrada Pass—and in the coach, too! No + coach had gone up or down that mountain road within the memory of man, + senor, till I brought this one down in charge of fifty peons working like + one man with ropes, pickaxes, and poles under my direction. That was the + rich Englishman who, as people say, pays for the making of this railway. + He was very pleased with me. But my wages were not due till the end of the + month.” + </p> + <p> + He slid down the bank suddenly. Decoud heard the splash of his feet in the + brook and followed his footsteps down the ravine. His form was lost among + the bushes till he had reached the strip of sand under the cliff. As often + happens in the gulf when the showers during the first part of the night + had been frequent and heavy, the darkness had thinned considerably towards + the morning though there were no signs of daylight as yet. + </p> + <p> + The cargo-lighter, relieved of its precious burden, rocked feebly, + half-afloat, with her fore-foot on the sand. A long rope stretched away + like a black cotton thread across the strip of white beach to the grapnel + Nostromo had carried ashore and hooked to the stem of a tree-like shrub in + the very opening of the ravine. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing for Decoud but to remain on the island. He received from + Nostromo’s hands whatever food the foresight of Captain Mitchell had put + on board the lighter and deposited it temporarily in the little dinghy + which on their arrival they had hauled up out of sight amongst the bushes. + It was to be left with him. The island was to be a hiding-place, not a + prison; he could pull out to a passing ship. The O.S.N. Company’s mail + boats passed close to the islands when going into Sulaco from the north. + But the Minerva, carrying off the ex-president, had taken the news up + north of the disturbances in Sulaco. It was possible that the next steamer + down would get instructions to miss the port altogether since the town, as + far as the Minerva’s officers knew, was for the time being in the hands of + the rabble. This would mean that there would be no steamer for a month, as + far as the mail service went; but Decoud had to take his chance of that. + The island was his only shelter from the proscription hanging over his + head. The Capataz was, of course, going back. The unloaded lighter leaked + much less, and he thought that she would keep afloat as far as the + harbour. + </p> + <p> + He passed to Decoud, standing knee-deep alongside, one of the two spades + which belonged to the equipment of each lighter for use when ballasting + ships. By working with it carefully as soon as there was daylight enough + to see, Decoud could loosen a mass of earth and stones overhanging the + cavity in which they had deposited the treasure, so that it would look as + if it had fallen naturally. It would cover up not only the cavity, but + even all traces of their work, the footsteps, the displaced stones, and + even the broken bushes. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, who would think of looking either for you or the treasure here?” + Nostromo continued, as if he could not tear himself away from the spot. + “Nobody is ever likely to come here. What could any man want with this + piece of earth as long as there is room for his feet on the mainland! The + people in this country are not curious. There are even no fishermen here + to intrude upon your worship. All the fishing that is done in the gulf + goes on near Zapiga, over there. Senor, if you are forced to leave this + island before anything can be arranged for you, do not try to make for + Zapiga. It is a settlement of thieves and matreros, where they would cut + your throat promptly for the sake of your gold watch and chain. And, + senor, think twice before confiding in any one whatever; even in the + officers of the Company’s steamers, if you ever get on board one. Honesty + alone is not enough for security. You must look to discretion and prudence + in a man. And always remember, senor, before you open your lips for a + confidence, that this treasure may be left safely here for hundreds of + years. Time is on its side, senor. And silver is an incorruptible metal + that can be trusted to keep its value for ever. . . . An incorruptible + metal,” he repeated, as if the idea had given him a profound pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “As some men are said to be,” Decoud pronounced, inscrutably, while the + Capataz, who busied himself in baling out the lighter with a wooden + bucket, went on throwing the water over the side with a regular splash. + Decoud, incorrigible in his scepticism, reflected, not cynically, but with + general satisfaction, that this man was made incorruptible by his enormous + vanity, that finest form of egoism which can take on the aspect of every + virtue. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo ceased baling, and, as if struck with a sudden thought, dropped + the bucket with a clatter into the lighter. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any message?” he asked in a lowered voice. “Remember, I shall be + asked questions.” + </p> + <p> + “You must find the hopeful words that ought to be spoken to the people in + town. I trust for that your intelligence and your experience, Capataz. You + understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Si, senor. . . . For the ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Decoud, hastily. “Your wonderful reputation will make + them attach great value to your words; therefore be careful what you say. + I am looking forward,” he continued, feeling the fatal touch of contempt + for himself to which his complex nature was subject, “I am looking forward + to a glorious and successful ending to my mission. Do you hear, Capataz? + Use the words glorious and successful when you speak to the senorita. Your + own mission is accomplished gloriously and successfully. You have + indubitably saved the silver of the mine. Not only this silver, but + probably all the silver that shall ever come out of it.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo detected the ironic tone. “I dare say, Senor Don Martin,” he + said, moodily. “There are very few things that I am not equal to. Ask the + foreign signori. I, a man of the people, who cannot always understand what + you mean. But as to this lot which I must leave here, let me tell you that + I would believe it in greater safety if you had not been with me at all.” + </p> + <p> + An exclamation escaped Decoud, and a short pause followed. “Shall I go + back with you to Sulaco?” he asked in an angry tone. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I strike you dead with my knife where you stand?” retorted + Nostromo, contemptuously. “It would be the same thing as taking you to + Sulaco. Come, senor. Your reputation is in your politics, and mine is + bound up with the fate of this silver. Do you wonder I wish there had been + no other man to share my knowledge? I wanted no one with me, senor.” + </p> + <p> + “You could not have kept the lighter afloat without me,” Decoud almost + shouted. “You would have gone to the bottom with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” uttered Nostromo, slowly; “alone.” + </p> + <p> + Here was a man, Decoud reflected, that seemed as though he would have + preferred to die rather than deface the perfect form of his egoism. Such a + man was safe. In silence he helped the Capataz to get the grapnel on + board. Nostromo cleared the shelving shore with one push of the heavy oar, + and Decoud found himself solitary on the beach like a man in a dream. A + sudden desire to hear a human voice once more seized upon his heart. The + lighter was hardly distinguishable from the black water upon which she + floated. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think has become of Hirsch?” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Knocked overboard and drowned,” cried Nostromo’s voice confidently out of + the black wastes of sky and sea around the islet. “Keep close in the + ravine, senor. I shall try to come out to you in a night or two.” + </p> + <p> + A slight swishing rustle showed that Nostromo was setting the sail. It + filled all at once with a sound as of a single loud drum-tap. Decoud went + back to the ravine. Nostromo, at the tiller, looked back from time to time + at the vanishing mass of the Great Isabel, which, little by little, merged + into the uniform texture of the night. At last, when he turned his head + again, he saw nothing but a smooth darkness, like a solid wall. + </p> + <p> + Then he, too, experienced that feeling of solitude which had weighed + heavily on Decoud after the lighter had slipped off the shore. But while + the man on the island was oppressed by a bizarre sense of unreality + affecting the very ground upon which he walked, the mind of the Capataz of + the Cargadores turned alertly to the problem of future conduct. Nostromo’s + faculties, working on parallel lines, enabled him to steer straight, to + keep a look-out for Hermosa, near which he had to pass, and to try to + imagine what would happen tomorrow in Sulaco. To-morrow, or, as a matter + of fact, to-day, since the dawn was not very far, Sotillo would find out + in what way the treasure had gone. A gang of Cargadores had been employed + in loading it into a railway truck from the Custom House store-rooms, and + running the truck on to the wharf. There would be arrests made, and + certainly before noon Sotillo would know in what manner the silver had + left Sulaco, and who it was that took it out. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo’s intention had been to sail right into the harbour; but at this + thought by a sudden touch of the tiller he threw the lighter into the wind + and checked her rapid way. His re-appearance with the very boat would + raise suspicions, would cause surmises, would absolutely put Sotillo on + the track. He himself would be arrested; and once in the Calabozo there + was no saying what they would do to him to make him speak. He trusted + himself, but he stood up to look round. Near by, Hermosa showed low its + white surface as flat as a table, with the slight run of the sea raised by + the breeze washing over its edges noisily. The lighter must be sunk at + once. + </p> + <p> + He allowed her to drift with her sail aback. There was already a good deal + of water in her. He allowed her to drift towards the harbour entrance, + and, letting the tiller swing about, squatted down and busied himself in + loosening the plug. With that out she would fill very quickly, and every + lighter carried a little iron ballast—enough to make her go down + when full of water. When he stood up again the noisy wash about the + Hermosa sounded far away, almost inaudible; and already he could make out + the shape of land about the harbour entrance. This was a desperate affair, + and he was a good swimmer. A mile was nothing to him, and he knew of an + easy place for landing just below the earthworks of the old abandoned + fort. It occurred to him with a peculiar fascination that this fort was a + good place in which to sleep the day through after so many sleepless + nights. + </p> + <p> + With one blow of the tiller he unshipped for the purpose, he knocked the + plug out, but did not take the trouble to lower the sail. He felt the + water welling up heavily about his legs before he leaped on to the + taffrail. There, upright and motionless, in his shirt and trousers only, + he stood waiting. When he had felt her settle he sprang far away with a + mighty splash. + </p> + <p> + At once he turned his head. The gloomy, clouded dawn from behind the + mountains showed him on the smooth waters the upper corner of the sail, a + dark wet triangle of canvas waving slightly to and fro. He saw it vanish, + as if jerked under, and then struck out for the shore. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART3" id="link2H_PART3"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART THIRD THE LIGHTHOUSE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER ONE + </h2> + <p> + Directly the cargo boat had slipped away from the wharf and got lost in + the darkness of the harbour the Europeans of Sulaco separated, to prepare + for the coming of the Monterist regime, which was approaching Sulaco from + the mountains, as well as from the sea. + </p> + <p> + This bit of manual work in loading the silver was their last concerted + action. It ended the three days of danger, during which, according to the + newspaper press of Europe, their energy had preserved the town from the + calamities of popular disorder. At the shore end of the jetty, Captain + Mitchell said good-night and turned back. His intention was to walk the + planks of the wharf till the steamer from Esmeralda turned up. The + engineers of the railway staff, collecting their Basque and Italian + workmen, marched them away to the railway yards, leaving the Custom House, + so well defended on the first day of the riot, standing open to the four + winds of heaven. Their men had conducted themselves bravely and faithfully + during the famous “three days” of Sulaco. In a great part this + faithfulness and that courage had been exercised in self-defence rather + than in the cause of those material interests to which Charles Gould had + pinned his faith. Amongst the cries of the mob not the least loud had been + the cry of death to foreigners. It was, indeed, a lucky circumstance for + Sulaco that the relations of those imported workmen with the people of the + country had been uniformly bad from the first. + </p> + <p> + Doctor Monygham, going to the door of Viola’s kitchen, observed this + retreat marking the end of the foreign interference, this withdrawal of + the army of material progress from the field of Costaguana revolutions. + </p> + <p> + Algarrobe torches carried on the outskirts of the moving body sent their + penetrating aroma into his nostrils. Their light, sweeping along the front + of the house, made the letters of the inscription, “Albergo d’ltalia Una,” + leap out black from end to end of the long wall. His eyes blinked in the + clear blaze. Several young men, mostly fair and tall, shepherding this mob + of dark bronzed heads, surmounted by the glint of slanting rifle barrels, + nodded to him familiarly as they went by. The doctor was a well-known + character. Some of them wondered what he was doing there. Then, on the + flank of their workmen they tramped on, following the line of rails. + </p> + <p> + “Withdrawing your people from the harbour?” said the doctor, addressing + himself to the chief engineer of the railway, who had accompanied Charles + Gould so far on his way to the town, walking by the side of the horse, + with his hand on the saddle-bow. They had stopped just outside the open + door to let the workmen cross the road. + </p> + <p> + “As quick as I can. We are not a political faction,” answered the + engineer, meaningly. “And we are not going to give our new rulers a handle + against the railway. You approve me, Gould?” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely,” said Charles Gould’s impassive voice, high up and outside + the dim parallelogram of light falling on the road through the open door. + </p> + <p> + With Sotillo expected from one side, and Pedro Montero from the other, the + engineer-in-chief’s only anxiety now was to avoid a collision with either. + Sulaco, for him, was a railway station, a terminus, workshops, a great + accumulation of stores. As against the mob the railway defended its + property, but politically the railway was neutral. He was a brave man; and + in that spirit of neutrality he had carried proposals of truce to the + self-appointed chiefs of the popular party, the deputies Fuentes and + Gamacho. Bullets were still flying about when he had crossed the Plaza on + that mission, waving above his head a white napkin belonging to the table + linen of the Amarilla Club. + </p> + <p> + He was rather proud of this exploit; and reflecting that the doctor, busy + all day with the wounded in the patio of the Casa Gould, had not had time + to hear the news, he began a succinct narrative. He had communicated to + them the intelligence from the Construction Camp as to Pedro Montero. The + brother of the victorious general, he had assured them, could be expected + at Sulaco at any time now. This news (as he anticipated), when shouted out + of the window by Senor Gamacho, induced a rush of the mob along the Campo + Road towards Rincon. The two deputies also, after shaking hands with him + effusively, mounted and galloped off to meet the great man. “I have misled + them a little as to the time,” the chief engineer confessed. “However hard + he rides, he can scarcely get here before the morning. But my object is + attained. I’ve secured several hours’ peace for the losing party. But I + did not tell them anything about Sotillo, for fear they would take it into + their heads to try to get hold of the harbour again, either to oppose him + or welcome him—there’s no saying which. There was Gould’s silver, on + which rests the remnant of our hopes. Decoud’s retreat had to be thought + of, too. I think the railway has done pretty well by its friends without + compromising itself hopelessly. Now the parties must be left to + themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Costaguana for the Costaguaneros,” interjected the doctor, sardonically. + “It is a fine country, and they have raised a fine crop of hates, + vengeance, murder, and rapine—those sons of the country.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am one of them,” Charles Gould’s voice sounded, calmly, “and I + must be going on to see to my own crop of trouble. My wife has driven + straight on, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. All was quiet on this side. Mrs. Gould has taken the two girls with + her.” + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould rode on, and the engineer-in-chief followed the doctor + indoors. + </p> + <p> + “That man is calmness personified,” he said, appreciatively, dropping on a + bench, and stretching his well-shaped legs in cycling stockings nearly + across the doorway. “He must be extremely sure of himself.” + </p> + <p> + “If that’s all he is sure of, then he is sure of nothing,” said the + doctor. He had perched himself again on the end of the table. He nursed + his cheek in the palm of one hand, while the other sustained the elbow. + “It is the last thing a man ought to be sure of.” The candle, + half-consumed and burning dimly with a long wick, lighted up from below + his inclined face, whose expression affected by the drawn-in cicatrices in + the cheeks, had something vaguely unnatural, an exaggerated remorseful + bitterness. As he sat there he had the air of meditating upon sinister + things. The engineer-in-chief gazed at him for a time before he protested. + </p> + <p> + “I really don’t see that. For me there seems to be nothing else. However——” + </p> + <p> + He was a wise man, but he could not quite conceal his contempt for that + sort of paradox; in fact. Dr. Monygham was not liked by the Europeans of + Sulaco. His outward aspect of an outcast, which he preserved even in Mrs. + Gould’s drawing-room, provoked unfavourable criticism. There could be no + doubt of his intelligence; and as he had lived for over twenty years in + the country, the pessimism of his outlook could not be altogether ignored. + But instinctively, in self-defence of their activities and hopes, his + hearers put it to the account of some hidden imperfection in the man’s + character. It was known that many years before, when quite young, he had + been made by Guzman Bento chief medical officer of the army. Not one of + the Europeans then in the service of Costaguana had been so much liked and + trusted by the fierce old Dictator. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards his story was not so clear. It lost itself amongst the + innumerable tales of conspiracies and plots against the tyrant as a stream + is lost in an arid belt of sandy country before it emerges, diminished and + troubled, perhaps, on the other side. The doctor made no secret of it that + he had lived for years in the wildest parts of the Republic, wandering + with almost unknown Indian tribes in the great forests of the far interior + where the great rivers have their sources. But it was mere aimless + wandering; he had written nothing, collected nothing, brought nothing for + science out of the twilight of the forests, which seemed to cling to his + battered personality limping about Sulaco, where it had drifted in + casually, only to get stranded on the shores of the sea. + </p> + <p> + It was also known that he had lived in a state of destitution till the + arrival of the Goulds from Europe. Don Carlos and Dona Emilia had taken up + the mad English doctor, when it became apparent that for all his savage + independence he could be tamed by kindness. Perhaps it was only hunger + that had tamed him. In years gone by he had certainly been acquainted with + Charles Gould’s father in Sta. Marta; and now, no matter what were the + dark passages of his history, as the medical officer of the San Tome mine + he became a recognized personality. He was recognized, but not + unreservedly accepted. So much defiant eccentricity and such an outspoken + scorn for mankind seemed to point to mere recklessness of judgment, the + bravado of guilt. Besides, since he had become again of some account, + vague whispers had been heard that years ago, when fallen into disgrace + and thrown into prison by Guzman Bento at the time of the so-called Great + Conspiracy, he had betrayed some of his best friends amongst the + conspirators. Nobody pretended to believe that whisper; the whole story of + the Great Conspiracy was hopelessly involved and obscure; it is admitted + in Costaguana that there never had been a conspiracy except in the + diseased imagination of the Tyrant; and, therefore, nothing and no one to + betray; though the most distinguished Costaguaneros had been imprisoned + and executed upon that accusation. The procedure had dragged on for years, + decimating the better class like a pestilence. The mere expression of + sorrow for the fate of executed kinsmen had been punished with death. Don + Jose Avellanos was perhaps the only one living who knew the whole story of + those unspeakable cruelties. He had suffered from them himself, and he, + with a shrug of the shoulders and a nervous, jerky gesture of the arm, was + wont to put away from him, as it were, every allusion to it. But whatever + the reason, Dr. Monygham, a personage in the administration of the Gould + Concession, treated with reverent awe by the miners, and indulged in his + peculiarities by Mrs. Gould, remained somehow outside the pale. + </p> + <p> + It was not from any liking for the doctor that the engineer-in-chief had + lingered in the inn upon the plain. He liked old Viola much better. He had + come to look upon the Albergo d’ltalia Una as a dependence of the railway. + Many of his subordinates had their quarters there. Mrs. Gould’s interest + in the family conferred upon it a sort of distinction. The + engineer-in-chief, with an army of workers under his orders, appreciated + the moral influence of the old Garibaldino upon his countrymen. His + austere, old-world Republicanism had a severe, soldier-like standard of + faithfulness and duty, as if the world were a battlefield where men had to + fight for the sake of universal love and brotherhood, instead of a more or + less large share of booty. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old chap!” he said, after he had heard the doctor’s account of + Teresa. “He’ll never be able to keep the place going by himself. I shall + be sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s quite alone up there,” grunted Doctor Monygham, with a toss of his + heavy head towards the narrow staircase. “Every living soul has cleared + out, and Mrs. Gould took the girls away just now. It might not be + over-safe for them out here before very long. Of course, as a doctor I can + do nothing more here; but she has asked me to stay with old Viola, and as + I have no horse to get back to the mine, where I ought to be, I made no + difficulty to stay. They can do without me in the town.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a good mind to remain with you, doctor, till we see whether + anything happens to-night at the harbour,” declared the engineer-in-chief. + “He must not be molested by Sotillo’s soldiery, who may push on as far as + this at once. Sotillo used to be very cordial to me at the Goulds’ and at + the club. How that man’ll ever dare to look any of his friends here in the + face I can’t imagine.” + </p> + <p> + “He’ll no doubt begin by shooting some of them to get over the first + awkwardness,” said the doctor. “Nothing in this country serves better your + military man who has changed sides than a few summary executions.” He + spoke with a gloomy positiveness that left no room for protest. The + engineer-in-chief did not attempt any. He simply nodded several times + regretfully, then said— + </p> + <p> + “I think we shall be able to mount you in the morning, doctor. Our peons + have recovered some of our stampeded horses. By riding hard and taking a + wide circuit by Los Hatos and along the edge of the forest, clear of + Rincon altogether, you may hope to reach the San Tome bridge without being + interfered with. The mine is just now, to my mind, the safest place for + anybody at all compromised. I only wish the railway was as difficult to + touch.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I compromised?” Doctor Monygham brought out slowly after a short + silence. + </p> + <p> + “The whole Gould Concession is compromised. It could not have remained for + ever outside the political life of the country—if those convulsions + may be called life. The thing is—can it be touched? The moment was + bound to come when neutrality would become impossible, and Charles Gould + understood this well. I believe he is prepared for every extremity. A man + of his sort has never contemplated remaining indefinitely at the mercy of + ignorance and corruption. It was like being a prisoner in a cavern of + banditti with the price of your ransom in your pocket, and buying your + life from day to day. Your mere safety, not your liberty, mind, doctor. I + know what I am talking about. The image at which you shrug your shoulders + is perfectly correct, especially if you conceive such a prisoner endowed + with the power of replenishing his pocket by means as remote from the + faculties of his captors as if they were magic. You must have understood + that as well as I do, doctor. He was in the position of the goose with the + golden eggs. I broached this matter to him as far back as Sir John’s visit + here. The prisoner of stupid and greedy banditti is always at the mercy of + the first imbecile ruffian, who may blow out his brains in a fit of temper + or for some prospect of an immediate big haul. The tale of killing the + goose with the golden eggs has not been evolved for nothing out of the + wisdom of mankind. It is a story that will never grow old. That is why + Charles Gould in his deep, dumb way has countenanced the Ribierist + Mandate, the first public act that promised him safety on other than venal + grounds. Ribierism has failed, as everything merely rational fails in this + country. But Gould remains logical in wishing to save this big lot of + silver. Decoud’s plan of a counter-revolution may be practicable or not, + it may have a chance, or it may not have a chance. With all my experience + of this revolutionary continent, I can hardly yet look at their methods + seriously. Decoud has been reading to us his draft of a proclamation, and + talking very well for two hours about his plan of action. He had arguments + which should have appeared solid enough if we, members of old, stable + political and national organizations, were not startled by the mere idea + of a new State evolved like this out of the head of a scoffing young man + fleeing for his life, with a proclamation in his pocket, to a rough, + jeering, half-bred swashbuckler, who in this part of the world is called a + general. It sounds like a comic fairy tale—and behold, it may come + off; because it is true to the very spirit of the country.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the silver gone off, then?” asked the doctor, moodily. + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer pulled out his watch. “By Captain Mitchell’s reckoning—and + he ought to know—it has been gone long enough now to be some three + or four miles outside the harbour; and, as Mitchell says, Nostromo is the + sort of seaman to make the best of his opportunities.” Here the doctor + grunted so heavily that the other changed his tone. + </p> + <p> + “You have a poor opinion of that move, doctor? But why? Charles Gould has + got to play his game out, though he is not the man to formulate his + conduct even to himself, perhaps, let alone to others. It may be that the + game has been partly suggested to him by Holroyd; but it accords with his + character, too; and that is why it has been so successful. Haven’t they + come to calling him ‘El Rey de Sulaco’ in Sta. Marta? A nickname may be + the best record of a success. That’s what I call putting the face of a + joke upon the body of a truth. My dear sir, when I first arrived in Sta. + Marta I was struck by the way all those journalists, demagogues, members + of Congress, and all those generals and judges cringed before a + sleepy-eyed advocate without practice simply because he was the + plenipotentiary of the Gould Concession. Sir John when he came out was + impressed, too.” + </p> + <p> + “A new State, with that plump dandy, Decoud, for the first President,” + mused Dr. Monygham, nursing his cheek and swinging his legs all the time. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, and why not?” the chief engineer retorted in an + unexpectedly earnest and confidential voice. It was as if something subtle + in the air of Costaguana had inoculated him with the local faith in + “pronunciamientos.” All at once he began to talk, like an expert + revolutionist, of the instrument ready to hand in the intact army at + Cayta, which could be brought back in a few days to Sulaco if only Decoud + managed to make his way at once down the coast. For the military chief + there was Barrios, who had nothing but a bullet to expect from Montero, + his former professional rival and bitter enemy. Barrios’s concurrence was + assured. As to his army, it had nothing to expect from Montero either; not + even a month’s pay. From that point of view the existence of the treasure + was of enormous importance. The mere knowledge that it had been saved from + the Monterists would be a strong inducement for the Cayta troops to + embrace the cause of the new State. + </p> + <p> + The doctor turned round and contemplated his companion for some time. + </p> + <p> + “This Decoud, I see, is a persuasive young beggar,” he remarked at last. + “And pray is it for this, then, that Charles Gould has let the whole lot + of ingots go out to sea in charge of that Nostromo?” + </p> + <p> + “Charles Gould,” said the engineer-in-chief, “has said no more about his + motive than usual. You know, he doesn’t talk. But we all here know his + motive, and he has only one—the safety of the San Tome mine with the + preservation of the Gould Concession in the spirit of his compact with + Holroyd. Holroyd is another uncommon man. They understand each other’s + imaginative side. One is thirty, the other nearly sixty, and they have + been made for each other. To be a millionaire, and such a millionaire as + Holroyd, is like being eternally young. The audacity of youth reckons upon + what it fancies an unlimited time at its disposal; but a millionaire has + unlimited means in his hand—which is better. One’s time on earth is + an uncertain quantity, but about the long reach of millions there is no + doubt. The introduction of a pure form of Christianity into this continent + is a dream for a youthful enthusiast, and I have been trying to explain to + you why Holroyd at fifty-eight is like a man on the threshold of life, and + better, too. He’s not a missionary, but the San Tome mine holds just that + for him. I assure you, in sober truth, that he could not manage to keep + this out of a strictly business conference upon the finances of Costaguana + he had with Sir John a couple of years ago. Sir John mentioned it with + amazement in a letter he wrote to me here, from San Francisco, when on his + way home. Upon my word, doctor, things seem to be worth nothing by what + they are in themselves. I begin to believe that the only solid thing about + them is the spiritual value which everyone discovers in his own form of + activity——” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” interrupted the doctor, without stopping for an instant the idle + swinging movement of his legs. “Self-flattery. Food for that vanity which + makes the world go round. Meantime, what do you think is going to happen + to the treasure floating about the gulf with the great Capataz and the + great politician?” + </p> + <p> + “Why are you uneasy about it, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “I uneasy! And what the devil is it to me? I put no spiritual value into + my desires, or my opinions, or my actions. They have not enough vastness + to give me room for self-flattery. Look, for instance, I should certainly + have liked to ease the last moments of that poor woman. And I can’t. It’s + impossible. Have you met the impossible face to face—or have you, + the Napoleon of railways, no such word in your dictionary?” + </p> + <p> + “Is she bound to have a very bad time of it?” asked the chief engineer, + with humane concern. + </p> + <p> + Slow, heavy footsteps moved across the planks above the heavy hard wood + beams of the kitchen. Then down the narrow opening of the staircase made + in the thickness of the wall, and narrow enough to be defended by one man + against twenty enemies, came the murmur of two voices, one faint and + broken, the other deep and gentle answering it, and in its graver tone + covering the weaker sound. + </p> + <p> + The two men remained still and silent till the murmurs ceased, then the + doctor shrugged his shoulders and muttered— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she’s bound to. And I could do nothing if I went up now.” + </p> + <p> + A long period of silence above and below ensued. + </p> + <p> + “I fancy,” began the engineer, in a subdued voice, “that you mistrust + Captain Mitchell’s Capataz.” + </p> + <p> + “Mistrust him!” muttered the doctor through his teeth. “I believe him + capable of anything—even of the most absurd fidelity. I am the last + person he spoke to before he left the wharf, you know. The poor woman up + there wanted to see him, and I let him go up to her. The dying must not be + contradicted, you know. She seemed then fairly calm and resigned, but the + scoundrel in those ten minutes or so has done or said something which + seems to have driven her into despair. You know,” went on the doctor, + hesitatingly, “women are so very unaccountable in every position, and at + all times of life, that I thought sometimes she was in a way, don’t you + see? in love with him—the Capataz. The rascal has his own charm + indubitably, or he would not have made the conquest of all the populace of + the town. No, no, I am not absurd. I may have given a wrong name to some + strong sentiment for him on her part, to an unreasonable and simple + attitude a woman is apt to take up emotionally towards a man. She used to + abuse him to me frequently, which, of course, is not inconsistent with my + idea. Not at all. It looked to me as if she were always thinking of him. + He was something important in her life. You know, I have seen a lot of + those people. Whenever I came down from the mine Mrs. Gould used to ask me + to keep my eye on them. She likes Italians; she has lived a long time in + Italy, I believe, and she took a special fancy to that old Garibaldino. A + remarkable chap enough. A rugged and dreamy character, living in the + republicanism of his young days as if in a cloud. He has encouraged much + of the Capataz’s confounded nonsense—the high-strung, exalted old + beggar!” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of nonsense?” wondered the chief engineer. “I found the Capataz + always a very shrewd and sensible fellow, absolutely fearless, and + remarkably useful. A perfect handy man. Sir John was greatly impressed by + his resourcefulness and attention when he made that overland journey from + Sta. Marta. Later on, as you might have heard, he rendered us a service by + disclosing to the then chief of police the presence in the town of some + professional thieves, who came from a distance to wreck and rob our + monthly pay train. He has certainly organized the lighterage service of + the harbour for the O.S.N. Company with great ability. He knows how to + make himself obeyed, foreigner though he is. It is true that the + Cargadores are strangers here, too, for the most part—immigrants, + Islenos.” + </p> + <p> + “His prestige is his fortune,” muttered the doctor, sourly. + </p> + <p> + “The man has proved his trustworthiness up to the hilt on innumerable + occasions and in all sorts of ways,” argued the engineer. “When this + question of the silver arose, Captain Mitchell naturally was very warmly + of the opinion that his Capataz was the only man fit for the trust. As a + sailor, of course, I suppose so. But as a man, don’t you know, Gould, + Decoud, and myself judged that it didn’t matter in the least who went. Any + boatman would have done just as well. Pray, what could a thief do with + such a lot of ingots? If he ran off with them he would have in the end to + land somewhere, and how could he conceal his cargo from the knowledge of + the people ashore? We dismissed that consideration from our minds. + Moreover, Decoud was going. There have been occasions when the Capataz has + been more implicitly trusted.” + </p> + <p> + “He took a slightly different view,” the doctor said. “I heard him declare + in this very room that it would be the most desperate affair of his life. + He made a sort of verbal will here in my hearing, appointing old Viola his + executor; and, by Jove! do you know, he—he’s not grown rich by his + fidelity to you good people of the railway and the harbour. I suppose he + obtains some—how do you say that?—some spiritual value for his + labours, or else I don’t know why the devil he should be faithful to you, + Gould, Mitchell, or anybody else. He knows this country well. He knows, + for instance, that Gamacho, the Deputy from Javira, has been nothing else + but a ‘tramposo’ of the commonest sort, a petty pedlar of the Campo, till + he managed to get enough goods on credit from Anzani to open a little + store in the wilds, and got himself elected by the drunken mozos that hang + about the Estancias and the poorest sort of rancheros who were in his + debt. And Gamacho, who to-morrow will be probably one of our high + officials, is a stranger, too—an Isleno. He might have been a + Cargador on the O. S. N. wharf had he not (the posadero of Rincon is ready + to swear it) murdered a pedlar in the woods and stolen his pack to begin + life on. And do you think that Gamacho, then, would have ever become a + hero with the democracy of this place, like our Capataz? Of course not. He + isn’t half the man. No; decidedly, I think that Nostromo is a fool.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor’s talk was distasteful to the builder of railways. “It is + impossible to argue that point,” he said, philosophically. “Each man has + his gifts. You should have heard Gamacho haranguing his friends in the + street. He has a howling voice, and he shouted like mad, lifting his + clenched fist right above his head, and throwing his body half out of the + window. At every pause the rabble below yelled, ‘Down with the Oligarchs! + Viva la Libertad!’ Fuentes inside looked extremely miserable. You know, he + is the brother of Jorge Fuentes, who has been Minister of the Interior for + six months or so, some few years back. Of course, he has no conscience; + but he is a man of birth and education—at one time the director of + the Customs of Cayta. That idiot-brute Gamacho fastened himself upon him + with his following of the lowest rabble. His sickly fear of that ruffian + was the most rejoicing sight imaginable.” + </p> + <p> + He got up and went to the door to look out towards the harbour. “All + quiet,” he said; “I wonder if Sotillo really means to turn up here?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER TWO + </h2> + <p> + Captain Mitchell, pacing the wharf, was asking himself the same question. + There was always the doubt whether the warning of the Esmeralda + telegraphist—a fragmentary and interrupted message—had been + properly understood. However, the good man had made up his mind not to go + to bed till daylight, if even then. He imagined himself to have rendered + an enormous service to Charles Gould. When he thought of the saved silver + he rubbed his hands together with satisfaction. In his simple way he was + proud at being a party to this extremely clever expedient. It was he who + had given it a practical shape by suggesting the possibility of + intercepting at sea the north-bound steamer. And it was advantageous to + his Company, too, which would have lost a valuable freight if the treasure + had been left ashore to be confiscated. The pleasure of disappointing the + Monterists was also very great. Authoritative by temperament and the long + habit of command, Captain Mitchell was no democrat. He even went so far as + to profess a contempt for parliamentarism itself. “His Excellency Don + Vincente Ribiera,” he used to say, “whom I and that fellow of mine, + Nostromo, had the honour, sir, and the pleasure of saving from a cruel + death, deferred too much to his Congress. It was a mistake—a + distinct mistake, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The guileless old seaman superintending the O.S.N. service imagined that + the last three days had exhausted every startling surprise the political + life of Costaguana could offer. He used to confess afterwards that the + events which followed surpassed his imagination. To begin with, Sulaco + (because of the seizure of the cables and the disorganization of the steam + service) remained for a whole fortnight cut off from the rest of the world + like a besieged city. + </p> + <p> + “One would not have believed it possible; but so it was, sir. A full + fortnight.” + </p> + <p> + The account of the extraordinary things that happened during that time, + and the powerful emotions he experienced, acquired a comic impressiveness + from the pompous manner of his personal narrative. He opened it always by + assuring his hearer that he was “in the thick of things from first to + last.” Then he would begin by describing the getting away of the silver, + and his natural anxiety lest “his fellow” in charge of the lighter should + make some mistake. Apart from the loss of so much precious metal, the life + of Senor Martin Decoud, an agreeable, wealthy, and well-informed young + gentleman, would have been jeopardized through his falling into the hands + of his political enemies. Captain Mitchell also admitted that in his + solitary vigil on the wharf he had felt a certain measure of concern for + the future of the whole country. + </p> + <p> + “A feeling, sir,” he explained, “perfectly comprehensible in a man + properly grateful for the many kindnesses received from the best families + of merchants and other native gentlemen of independent means, who, barely + saved by us from the excesses of the mob, seemed, to my mind’s eye, + destined to become the prey in person and fortune of the native soldiery, + which, as is well known, behave with regrettable barbarity to the + inhabitants during their civil commotions. And then, sir, there were the + Goulds, for both of whom, man and wife, I could not but entertain the + warmest feelings deserved by their hospitality and kindness. I felt, too, + the dangers of the gentlemen of the Amarilla Club, who had made me + honorary member, and had treated me with uniform regard and civility, both + in my capacity of Consular Agent and as Superintendent of an important + Steam Service. Miss Antonia Avellanos, the most beautiful and accomplished + young lady whom it had ever been my privilege to speak to, was not a + little in my mind, I confess. How the interests of my Company would be + affected by the impending change of officials claimed a large share of my + attention, too. In short, sir, I was extremely anxious and very tired, as + you may suppose, by the exciting and memorable events in which I had taken + my little part. The Company’s building containing my residence was within + five minutes’ walk, with the attraction of some supper and of my hammock + (I always take my nightly rest in a hammock, as the most suitable to the + climate); but somehow, sir, though evidently I could do nothing for any + one by remaining about, I could not tear myself away from that wharf, + where the fatigue made me stumble painfully at times. The night was + excessively dark—the darkest I remember in my life; so that I began + to think that the arrival of the transport from Esmeralda could not + possibly take place before daylight, owing to the difficulty of navigating + the gulf. The mosquitoes bit like fury. We have been infested here with + mosquitoes before the late improvements; a peculiar harbour brand, sir, + renowned for its ferocity. They were like a cloud about my head, and I + shouldn’t wonder that but for their attacks I would have dozed off as I + walked up and down, and got a heavy fall. I kept on smoking cigar after + cigar, more to protect myself from being eaten up alive than from any real + relish for the weed. Then, sir, when perhaps for the twentieth time I was + approaching my watch to the lighted end in order to see the time, and + observing with surprise that it wanted yet ten minutes to midnight, I + heard the splash of a ship’s propeller—an unmistakable sound to a + sailor’s ear on such a calm night. It was faint indeed, because they were + advancing with precaution and dead slow, both on account of the darkness + and from their desire of not revealing too soon their presence: a very + unnecessary care, because, I verily believe, in all the enormous extent of + this harbour I was the only living soul about. Even the usual staff of + watchmen and others had been absent from their posts for several nights + owing to the disturbances. I stood stock still, after dropping and + stamping out my cigar—a circumstance highly agreeable, I should + think, to the mosquitoes, if I may judge from the state of my face next + morning. But that was a trifling inconvenience in comparison with the + brutal proceedings I became victim of on the part of Sotillo. Something + utterly inconceivable, sir; more like the proceedings of a maniac than the + action of a sane man, however lost to all sense of honour and decency. But + Sotillo was furious at the failure of his thievish scheme.” + </p> + <p> + In this Captain Mitchell was right. Sotillo was indeed infuriated. Captain + Mitchell, however, had not been arrested at once; a vivid curiosity + induced him to remain on the wharf (which is nearly four hundred feet + long) to see, or rather hear, the whole process of disembarkation. + Concealed by the railway truck used for the silver, which had been run + back afterwards to the shore end of the jetty, Captain Mitchell saw the + small detachment thrown forward, pass by, taking different directions upon + the plain. Meantime, the troops were being landed and formed into a + column, whose head crept up gradually so close to him that he made it out, + barring nearly the whole width of the wharf, only a very few yards from + him. Then the low, shuffling, murmuring, clinking sounds ceased, and the + whole mass remained for about an hour motionless and silent, awaiting the + return of the scouts. On land nothing was to be heard except the deep + baying of the mastiffs at the railway yards, answered by the faint barking + of the curs infesting the outer limits of the town. A detached knot of + dark shapes stood in front of the head of the column. + </p> + <p> + Presently the picket at the end of the wharf began to challenge in + undertones single figures approaching from the plain. Those messengers + sent back from the scouting parties flung to their comrades brief + sentences and passed on rapidly, becoming lost in the great motionless + mass, to make their report to the Staff. It occurred to Captain Mitchell + that his position could become disagreeable and perhaps dangerous, when + suddenly, at the head of the jetty, there was a shout of command, a bugle + call, followed by a stir and a rattling of arms, and a murmuring noise + that ran right up the column. Near by a loud voice directed hurriedly, + “Push that railway car out of the way!” At the rush of bare feet to + execute the order Captain Mitchell skipped back a pace or two; the car, + suddenly impelled by many hands, flew away from him along the rails, and + before he knew what had happened he found himself surrounded and seized by + his arms and the collar of his coat. + </p> + <p> + “We have caught a man hiding here, mi teniente!” cried one of his captors. + </p> + <p> + “Hold him on one side till the rearguard comes along,” answered the voice. + The whole column streamed past Captain Mitchell at a run, the thundering + noise of their feet dying away suddenly on the shore. His captors held him + tightly, disregarding his declaration that he was an Englishman and his + loud demands to be taken at once before their commanding officer. Finally + he lapsed into dignified silence. With a hollow rumble of wheels on the + planks a couple of field guns, dragged by hand, rolled by. Then, after a + small body of men had marched past escorting four or five figures which + walked in advance, with a jingle of steel scabbards, he felt a tug at his + arms, and was ordered to come along. During the passage from the wharf to + the Custom House it is to be feared that Captain Mitchell was subjected to + certain indignities at the hands of the soldiers—such as jerks, + thumps on the neck, forcible application of the butt of a rifle to the + small of his back. Their ideas of speed were not in accord with his notion + of his dignity. He became flustered, flushed, and helpless. It was as if + the world were coming to an end. + </p> + <p> + The long building was surrounded by troops, which were already piling arms + by companies and preparing to pass the night lying on the ground in their + ponchos with their sacks under their heads. Corporals moved with swinging + lanterns posting sentries all round the walls wherever there was a door or + an opening. Sotillo was taking his measures to protect his conquest as if + it had indeed contained the treasure. His desire to make his fortune at + one audacious stroke of genius had overmastered his reasoning faculties. + He would not believe in the possibility of failure; the mere hint of such + a thing made his brain reel with rage. Every circumstance pointing to it + appeared incredible. The statement of Hirsch, which was so absolutely + fatal to his hopes, could by no means be admitted. It is true, too, that + Hirsch’s story had been told so incoherently, with such excessive signs of + distraction, that it really looked improbable. It was extremely difficult, + as the saying is, to make head or tail of it. On the bridge of the + steamer, directly after his rescue, Sotillo and his officers, in their + impatience and excitement, would not give the wretched man time to collect + such few wits as remained to him. He ought to have been quieted, soothed, + and reassured, whereas he had been roughly handled, cuffed, shaken, and + addressed in menacing tones. His struggles, his wriggles, his attempts to + get down on his knees, followed by the most violent efforts to break away, + as if he meant incontinently to jump overboard, his shrieks and shrinkings + and cowering wild glances had filled them first with amazement, then with + a doubt of his genuineness, as men are wont to suspect the sincerity of + every great passion. His Spanish, too, became so mixed up with German that + the better half of his statements remained incomprehensible. He tried to + propitiate them by calling them hochwohlgeboren herren, which in itself + sounded suspicious. When admonished sternly not to trifle he repeated his + entreaties and protestations of loyalty and innocence again in German, + obstinately, because he was not aware in what language he was speaking. + His identity, of course, was perfectly known as an inhabitant of + Esmeralda, but this made the matter no clearer. As he kept on forgetting + Decoud’s name, mixing him up with several other people he had seen in the + Casa Gould, it looked as if they all had been in the lighter together; and + for a moment Sotillo thought that he had drowned every prominent Ribierist + of Sulaco. The improbability of such a thing threw a doubt upon the whole + statement. Hirsch was either mad or playing a part—pretending fear + and distraction on the spur of the moment to cover the truth. Sotillo’s + rapacity, excited to the highest pitch by the prospect of an immense + booty, could believe in nothing adverse. This Jew might have been very + much frightened by the accident, but he knew where the silver was + concealed, and had invented this story, with his Jewish cunning, to put + him entirely off the track as to what had been done. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo had taken up his quarters on the upper floor in a vast apartment + with heavy black beams. But there was no ceiling, and the eye lost itself + in the darkness under the high pitch of the roof. The thick shutters stood + open. On a long table could be seen a large inkstand, some stumpy, inky + quill pens, and two square wooden boxes, each holding half a + hundred-weight of sand. Sheets of grey coarse official paper bestrewed the + floor. It must have been a room occupied by some higher official of the + Customs, because a large leathern armchair stood behind the table, with + other high-backed chairs scattered about. A net hammock was swung under + one of the beams—for the official’s afternoon siesta, no doubt. A + couple of candles stuck into tall iron candlesticks gave a dim reddish + light. The colonel’s hat, sword, and revolver lay between them, and a + couple of his more trusty officers lounged gloomily against the table. The + colonel threw himself into the armchair, and a big negro with a sergeant’s + stripes on his ragged sleeve, kneeling down, pulled off his boots. + Sotillo’s ebony moustache contrasted violently with the livid colouring of + his cheeks. His eyes were sombre and as if sunk very far into his head. He + seemed exhausted by his perplexities, languid with disappointment; but + when the sentry on the landing thrust his head in to announce the arrival + of a prisoner, he revived at once. + </p> + <p> + “Let him be brought in,” he shouted, fiercely. + </p> + <p> + The door flew open, and Captain Mitchell, bareheaded, his waistcoat open, + the bow of his tie under his ear, was hustled into the room. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo recognized him at once. He could not have hoped for a more + precious capture; here was a man who could tell him, if he chose, + everything he wished to know—and directly the problem of how best to + make him talk to the point presented itself to his mind. The resentment of + a foreign nation had no terrors for Sotillo. The might of the whole armed + Europe would not have protected Captain Mitchell from insults and + ill-usage, so well as the quick reflection of Sotillo that this was an + Englishman who would most likely turn obstinate under bad treatment, and + become quite unmanageable. At all events, the colonel smoothed the scowl + on his brow. + </p> + <p> + “What! The excellent Senor Mitchell!” he cried, in affected dismay. The + pretended anger of his swift advance and of his shout, “Release the + caballero at once,” was so effective that the astounded soldiers + positively sprang away from their prisoner. Thus suddenly deprived of + forcible support, Captain Mitchell reeled as though about to fall. Sotillo + took him familiarly under the arm, led him to a chair, waved his hand at + the room. “Go out, all of you,” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + When they had been left alone he stood looking down, irresolute and + silent, watching till Captain Mitchell had recovered his power of speech. + </p> + <p> + Here in his very grasp was one of the men concerned in the removal of the + silver. Sotillo’s temperament was of that sort that he experienced an + ardent desire to beat him; just as formerly when negotiating with + difficulty a loan from the cautious Anzani, his fingers always itched to + take the shopkeeper by the throat. As to Captain Mitchell, the suddenness, + unexpectedness, and general inconceivableness of this experience had + confused his thoughts. Moreover, he was physically out of breath. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been knocked down three times between this and the wharf,” he gasped + out at last. “Somebody shall be made to pay for this.” He had certainly + stumbled more than once, and had been dragged along for some distance + before he could regain his stride. With his recovered breath his + indignation seemed to madden him. He jumped up, crimson, all his white + hair bristling, his eyes glaring vengefully, and shook violently the flaps + of his ruined waistcoat before the disconcerted Sotillo. “Look! Those + uniformed thieves of yours downstairs have robbed me of my watch.” + </p> + <p> + The old sailor’s aspect was very threatening. Sotillo saw himself cut off + from the table on which his sabre and revolver were lying. + </p> + <p> + “I demand restitution and apologies,” Mitchell thundered at him, quite + beside himself. “From you! Yes, from you!” + </p> + <p> + For the space of a second or so the colonel stood with a perfectly stony + expression of face; then, as Captain Mitchell flung out an arm towards the + table as if to snatch up the revolver, Sotillo, with a yell of alarm, + bounded to the door and was gone in a flash, slamming it after him. + Surprise calmed Captain Mitchell’s fury. Behind the closed door Sotillo + shouted on the landing, and there was a great tumult of feet on the wooden + staircase. + </p> + <p> + “Disarm him! Bind him!” the colonel could be heard vociferating. + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell had just the time to glance once at the windows, with + three perpendicular bars of iron each and some twenty feet from the + ground, as he well knew, before the door flew open and the rush upon him + took place. In an incredibly short time he found himself bound with many + turns of a hide rope to a high-backed chair, so that his head alone + remained free. Not till then did Sotillo, who had been leaning in the + doorway trembling visibly, venture again within. The soldiers, picking up + from the floor the rifles they had dropped to grapple with the prisoner, + filed out of the room. The officers remained leaning on their swords and + looking on. + </p> + <p> + “The watch! the watch!” raved the colonel, pacing to and fro like a tiger + in a cage. “Give me that man’s watch.” + </p> + <p> + It was true, that when searched for arms in the hall downstairs, before + being taken into Sotillo’s presence, Captain Mitchell had been relieved of + his watch and chain; but at the colonel’s clamour it was produced quickly + enough, a corporal bringing it up, carried carefully in the palms of his + joined hands. Sotillo snatched it, and pushed the clenched fist from which + it dangled close to Captain Mitchell’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Now then! You arrogant Englishman! You dare to call the soldiers of the + army thieves! Behold your watch.” + </p> + <p> + He flourished his fist as if aiming blows at the prisoner’s nose. Captain + Mitchell, helpless as a swathed infant, looked anxiously at the + sixty-guinea gold half-chronometer, presented to him years ago by a + Committee of Underwriters for saving a ship from total loss by fire. + Sotillo, too, seemed to perceive its valuable appearance. He became silent + suddenly, stepped aside to the table, and began a careful examination in + the light of the candles. He had never seen anything so fine. His officers + closed in and craned their necks behind his back. + </p> + <p> + He became so interested that for an instant he forgot his precious + prisoner. There is always something childish in the rapacity of the + passionate, clear-minded, Southern races, wanting in the misty idealism of + the Northerners, who at the smallest encouragement dream of nothing less + than the conquest of the earth. Sotillo was fond of jewels, gold trinkets, + of personal adornment. After a moment he turned about, and with a + commanding gesture made all his officers fall back. He laid down the watch + on the table, then, negligently, pushed his hat over it. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” he began, going up very close to the chair. “You dare call my + valiant soldiers of the Esmeralda regiment, thieves. You dare! What + impudence! You foreigners come here to rob our country of its wealth. You + never have enough! Your audacity knows no bounds.” + </p> + <p> + He looked towards the officers, amongst whom there was an approving + murmur. The older major was moved to declare— + </p> + <p> + “Si, mi colonel. They are all traitors.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall say nothing,” continued Sotillo, fixing the motionless and + powerless Mitchell with an angry but uneasy stare. “I shall say nothing of + your treacherous attempt to get possession of my revolver to shoot me + while I was trying to treat you with consideration you did not deserve. + You have forfeited your life. Your only hope is in my clemency.” + </p> + <p> + He watched for the effect of his words, but there was no obvious sign of + fear on Captain Mitchell’s face. His white hair was full of dust, which + covered also the rest of his helpless person. As if he had heard nothing, + he twitched an eyebrow to get rid of a bit of straw which hung amongst the + hairs. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo advanced one leg and put his arms akimbo. “It is you, Mitchell,” + he said, emphatically, “who are the thief, not my soldiers!” He pointed at + his prisoner a forefinger with a long, almond-shaped nail. “Where is the + silver of the San Tome mine? I ask you, Mitchell, where is the silver that + was deposited in this Custom House? Answer me that! You stole it. You were + a party to stealing it. It was stolen from the Government. Aha! you think + I do not know what I say; but I am up to your foreign tricks. It is gone, + the silver! No? Gone in one of your lanchas, you miserable man! How dared + you?” + </p> + <p> + This time he produced his effect. “How on earth could Sotillo know that?” + thought Mitchell. His head, the only part of his body that could move, + betrayed his surprise by a sudden jerk. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! you tremble,” Sotillo shouted, suddenly. “It is a conspiracy. It is a + crime against the State. Did you not know that the silver belongs to the + Republic till the Government claims are satisfied? Where is it? Where have + you hidden it, you miserable thief?” + </p> + <p> + At this question Captain Mitchell’s sinking spirits revived. In whatever + incomprehensible manner Sotillo had already got his information about the + lighter, he had not captured it. That was clear. In his outraged heart, + Captain Mitchell had resolved that nothing would induce him to say a word + while he remained so disgracefully bound, but his desire to help the + escape of the silver made him depart from this resolution. His wits were + very much at work. He detected in Sotillo a certain air of doubt, of + irresolution. + </p> + <p> + “That man,” he said to himself, “is not certain of what he advances.” For + all his pomposity in social intercourse, Captain Mitchell could meet the + realities of life in a resolute and ready spirit. Now he had got over the + first shock of the abominable treatment he was cool and collected enough. + The immense contempt he felt for Sotillo steadied him, and he said + oracularly, “No doubt it is well concealed by this time.” + </p> + <p> + Sotillo, too, had time to cool down. “Muy bien, Mitchell,” he said in a + cold and threatening manner. “But can you produce the Government receipt + for the royalty and the Custom House permit of embarkation, hey? Can you? + No. Then the silver has been removed illegally, and the guilty shall be + made to suffer, unless it is produced within five days from this.” He gave + orders for the prisoner to be unbound and locked up in one of the smaller + rooms downstairs. He walked about the room, moody and silent, till Captain + Mitchell, with each of his arms held by a couple of men, stood up, shook + himself, and stamped his feet. + </p> + <p> + “How did you like to be tied up, Mitchell?” he asked, derisively. + </p> + <p> + “It is the most incredible, abominable use of power!” Captain Mitchell + declared in a loud voice. “And whatever your purpose, you shall gain + nothing from it, I can promise you.” + </p> + <p> + The tall colonel, livid, with his coal-black ringlets and moustache, + crouched, as it were, to look into the eyes of the short, thick-set, + red-faced prisoner with rumpled white hair. + </p> + <p> + “That we shall see. You shall know my power a little better when I tie you + up to a potalon outside in the sun for a whole day.” He drew himself up + haughtily, and made a sign for Captain Mitchell to be led away. + </p> + <p> + “What about my watch?” cried Captain Mitchell, hanging back from the + efforts of the men pulling him towards the door. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo turned to his officers. “No! But only listen to this picaro, + caballeros,” he pronounced with affected scorn, and was answered by a + chorus of derisive laughter. “He demands his watch!” . . . He ran up again + to Captain Mitchell, for the desire to relieve his feelings by inflicting + blows and pain upon this Englishman was very strong within him. “Your + watch! You are a prisoner in war time, Mitchell! In war time! You have no + rights and no property! Caramba! The very breath in your body belongs to + me. Remember that.” + </p> + <p> + “Bosh!” said Captain Mitchell, concealing a disagreeable impression. + </p> + <p> + Down below, in a great hall, with the earthen floor and with a tall mound + thrown up by white ants in a corner, the soldiers had kindled a small fire + with broken chairs and tables near the arched gateway, through which the + faint murmur of the harbour waters on the beach could be heard. While + Captain Mitchell was being led down the staircase, an officer passed him, + running up to report to Sotillo the capture of more prisoners. A lot of + smoke hung about in the vast gloomy place, the fire crackled, and, as if + through a haze, Captain Mitchell made out, surrounded by short soldiers + with fixed bayonets, the heads of three tall prisoners—the doctor, + the engineer-in-chief, and the white leonine mane of old Viola, who stood + half-turned away from the others with his chin on his breast and his arms + crossed. Mitchell’s astonishment knew no bounds. He cried out; the other + two exclaimed also. But he hurried on, diagonally, across the big + cavern-like hall. Lots of thoughts, surmises, hints of caution, and so on, + crowded his head to distraction. + </p> + <p> + “Is he actually keeping you?” shouted the chief engineer, whose single + eyeglass glittered in the firelight. + </p> + <p> + An officer from the top of the stairs was shouting urgently, “Bring them + all up—all three.” + </p> + <p> + In the clamour of voices and the rattle of arms, Captain Mitchell made + himself heard imperfectly: “By heavens! the fellow has stolen my watch.” + </p> + <p> + The engineer-in-chief on the staircase resisted the pressure long enough + to shout, “What? What did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “My chronometer!” Captain Mitchell yelled violently at the very moment of + being thrust head foremost through a small door into a sort of cell, + perfectly black, and so narrow that he fetched up against the opposite + wall. The door had been instantly slammed. He knew where they had put him. + This was the strong room of the Custom House, whence the silver had been + removed only a few hours earlier. It was almost as narrow as a corridor, + with a small square aperture, barred by a heavy grating, at the distant + end. Captain Mitchell staggered for a few steps, then sat down on the + earthen floor with his back to the wall. Nothing, not even a gleam of + light from anywhere, interfered with Captain Mitchell’s meditation. He did + some hard but not very extensive thinking. It was not of a gloomy cast. + The old sailor, with all his small weaknesses and absurdities, was + constitutionally incapable of entertaining for any length of time a fear + of his personal safety. It was not so much firmness of soul as the lack of + a certain kind of imagination—the kind whose undue development + caused intense suffering to Senor Hirsch; that sort of imagination which + adds the blind terror of bodily suffering and of death, envisaged as an + accident to the body alone, strictly—to all the other apprehensions + on which the sense of one’s existence is based. Unfortunately, Captain + Mitchell had not much penetration of any kind; characteristic, + illuminating trifles of expression, action, or movement, escaped him + completely. He was too pompously and innocently aware of his own existence + to observe that of others. For instance, he could not believe that Sotillo + had been really afraid of him, and this simply because it would never have + entered into his head to shoot any one except in the most pressing case of + self-defence. Anybody could see he was not a murdering kind of man, he + reflected quite gravely. Then why this preposterous and insulting charge? + he asked himself. But his thoughts mainly clung around the astounding and + unanswerable question: How the devil the fellow got to know that the + silver had gone off in the lighter? It was obvious that he had not + captured it. And, obviously, he could not have captured it! In this last + conclusion Captain Mitchell was misled by the assumption drawn from his + observation of the weather during his long vigil on the wharf. He thought + that there had been much more wind than usual that night in the gulf; + whereas, as a matter of fact, the reverse was the case. + </p> + <p> + “How in the name of all that’s marvellous did that confounded fellow get + wind of the affair?” was the first question he asked directly after the + bang, clatter, and flash of the open door (which was closed again almost + before he could lift his dropped head) informed him that he had a + companion of captivity. Dr. Monygham’s voice stopped muttering curses in + English and Spanish. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Mitchell?” he made answer, surlily. “I struck my forehead + against this confounded wall with enough force to fell an ox. Where are + you?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell, accustomed to the darkness, could make out the doctor + stretching out his hands blindly. + </p> + <p> + “I am sitting here on the floor. Don’t fall over my legs,” Captain + Mitchell’s voice announced with great dignity of tone. The doctor, + entreated not to walk about in the dark, sank down to the ground, too. The + two prisoners of Sotillo, with their heads nearly touching, began to + exchange confidences. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” the doctor related in a low tone to Captain Mitchell’s vehement + curiosity, “we have been nabbed in old Viola’s place. It seems that one of + their pickets, commanded by an officer, pushed as far as the town gate. + They had orders not to enter, but to bring along every soul they could + find on the plain. We had been talking in there with the door open, and no + doubt they saw the glimmer of our light. They must have been making their + approaches for some time. The engineer laid himself on a bench in a recess + by the fire-place, and I went upstairs to have a look. I hadn’t heard any + sound from there for a long time. Old Viola, as soon as he saw me come up, + lifted his arm for silence. I stole in on tiptoe. By Jove, his wife was + lying down and had gone to sleep. The woman had actually dropped off to + sleep! ‘Senor Doctor,’ Viola whispers to me, ‘it looks as if her + oppression was going to get better.’ ‘Yes,’ I said, very much surprised; + ‘your wife is a wonderful woman, Giorgio.’ Just then a shot was fired in + the kitchen, which made us jump and cower as if at a thunder-clap. It + seems that the party of soldiers had stolen quite close up, and one of + them had crept up to the door. He looked in, thought there was no one + there, and, holding his rifle ready, entered quietly. The chief told me + that he had just closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he saw + the man already in the middle of the room peering into the dark corners. + The chief was so startled that, without thinking, he made one leap from + the recess right out in front of the fireplace. The soldier, no less + startled, up with his rifle and pulls the trigger, deafening and singeing + the engineer, but in his flurry missing him completely. But, look what + happens! At the noise of the report the sleeping woman sat up, as if moved + by a spring, with a shriek, ‘The children, Gian’ Battista! Save the + children!’ I have it in my ears now. It was the truest cry of distress I + ever heard. I stood as if paralyzed, but the old husband ran across to the + bedside, stretching out his hands. She clung to them! I could see her eyes + go glazed; the old fellow lowered her down on the pillows and then looked + round at me. She was dead! All this took less than five minutes, and then + I ran down to see what was the matter. It was no use thinking of any + resistance. Nothing we two could say availed with the officer, so I + volunteered to go up with a couple of soldiers and fetch down old Viola. + He was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking at his wife’s face, and did + not seem to hear what I said; but after I had pulled the sheet over her + head, he got up and followed us downstairs quietly, in a sort of + thoughtful way. They marched us off along the road, leaving the door open + and the candle burning. The chief engineer strode on without a word, but I + looked back once or twice at the feeble gleam. After we had gone some + considerable distance, the Garibaldino, who was walking by my side, + suddenly said, ‘I have buried many men on battlefields on this continent. + The priests talk of consecrated ground! Bah! All the earth made by God is + holy; but the sea, which knows nothing of kings and priests and tyrants, + is the holiest of all. Doctor! I should like to bury her in the sea. No + mummeries, candles, incense, no holy water mumbled over by priests. The + spirit of liberty is upon the waters.’ . . . Amazing old man. He was + saying all this in an undertone as if talking to himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” interrupted Captain Mitchell, impatiently. “Poor old chap! But + have you any idea how that ruffian Sotillo obtained his information? He + did not get hold of any of our Cargadores who helped with the truck, did + he? But no, it is impossible! These were picked men we’ve had in our boats + for these five years, and I paid them myself specially for the job, with + instructions to keep out of the way for twenty-four hours at least. I saw + them with my own eyes march on with the Italians to the railway yards. The + chief promised to give them rations as long as they wanted to remain + there.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the doctor, slowly, “I can tell you that you may say good-bye + for ever to your best lighter, and to the Capataz of Cargadores.” + </p> + <p> + At this, Captain Mitchell scrambled up to his feet in the excess of his + excitement. The doctor, without giving him time to exclaim, stated briefly + the part played by Hirsch during the night. + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell was overcome. “Drowned!” he muttered, in a bewildered and + appalled whisper. “Drowned!” Afterwards he kept still, apparently + listening, but too absorbed in the news of the catastrophe to follow the + doctor’s narrative with attention. + </p> + <p> + The doctor had taken up an attitude of perfect ignorance, till at last + Sotillo was induced to have Hirsch brought in to repeat the whole story, + which was got out of him again with the greatest difficulty, because every + moment he would break out into lamentations. At last, Hirsch was led away, + looking more dead than alive, and shut up in one of the upstairs rooms to + be close at hand. Then the doctor, keeping up his character of a man not + admitted to the inner councils of the San Tome Administration, remarked + that the story sounded incredible. Of course, he said, he couldn’t tell + what had been the action of the Europeans, as he had been exclusively + occupied with his own work in looking after the wounded, and also in + attending Don Jose Avellanos. He had succeeded in assuming so well a tone + of impartial indifference, that Sotillo seemed to be completely deceived. + Till then a show of regular inquiry had been kept up; one of the officers + sitting at the table wrote down the questions and the answers, the others, + lounging about the room, listened attentively, puffing at their long + cigars and keeping their eyes on the doctor. But at that point Sotillo + ordered everybody out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THREE + </h2> + <p> + Directly they were alone, the colonel’s severe official manner changed. He + rose and approached the doctor. His eyes shone with rapacity and hope; he + became confidential. “The silver might have been indeed put on board the + lighter, but it was not conceivable that it should have been taken out to + sea.” The doctor, watching every word, nodded slightly, smoking with + apparent relish the cigar which Sotillo had offered him as a sign of his + friendly intentions. The doctor’s manner of cold detachment from the rest + of the Europeans led Sotillo on, till, from conjecture to conjecture, he + arrived at hinting that in his opinion this was a putup job on the part of + Charles Gould, in order to get hold of that immense treasure all to + himself. The doctor, observant and self-possessed, muttered, “He is very + capable of that.” + </p> + <p> + Here Captain Mitchell exclaimed with amazement, amusement, and + indignation, “You said that of Charles Gould!” Disgust, and even some + suspicion, crept into his tone, for to him, too, as to other Europeans, + there appeared to be something dubious about the doctor’s personality. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth made you say that to this watch-stealing scoundrel?” he + asked. “What’s the object of an infernal lie of that sort? That confounded + pick-pocket was quite capable of believing you.” + </p> + <p> + He snorted. For a time the doctor remained silent in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is exactly what I did say,” he uttered at last, in a tone which + would have made it clear enough to a third party that the pause was not of + a reluctant but of a reflective character. Captain Mitchell thought that + he had never heard anything so brazenly impudent in his life. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” he muttered to himself, but he had not the heart to voice + his thoughts. They were swept away by others full of astonishment and + regret. A heavy sense of discomfiture crushed him: the loss of the silver, + the death of Nostromo, which was really quite a blow to his sensibilities, + because he had become attached to his Capataz as people get attached to + their inferiors from love of ease and almost unconscious gratitude. And + when he thought of Decoud being drowned, too, his sensibility was almost + overcome by this miserable end. What a heavy blow for that poor young + woman! Captain Mitchell did not belong to the species of crabbed old + bachelors; on the contrary, he liked to see young men paying attentions to + young women. It seemed to him a natural and proper thing. Proper + especially. As to sailors, it was different; it was not their place to + marry, he maintained, but it was on moral grounds as a matter of + self-denial, for, he explained, life on board ship is not fit for a woman + even at best, and if you leave her on shore, first of all it is not fair, + and next she either suffers from it or doesn’t care a bit, which, in both + cases, is bad. He couldn’t have told what upset him most—Charles + Gould’s immense material loss, the death of Nostromo, which was a heavy + loss to himself, or the idea of that beautiful and accomplished young + woman being plunged into mourning. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” the doctor, who had been apparently reflecting, began again, “he + believed me right enough. I thought he would have hugged me. ‘Si, si,’ he + said, ‘he will write to that partner of his, the rich Americano in San + Francisco, that it is all lost. Why not? There is enough to share with + many people.’” + </p> + <p> + “But this is perfectly imbecile!” cried Captain Mitchell. + </p> + <p> + The doctor remarked that Sotillo was imbecile, and that his imbecility was + ingenious enough to lead him completely astray. He had helped him only but + a little way. + </p> + <p> + “I mentioned,” the doctor said, “in a sort of casual way, that treasure is + generally buried in the earth rather than set afloat upon the sea. At this + my Sotillo slapped his forehead. ‘Por Dios, yes,’ he said; ‘they must have + buried it on the shores of this harbour somewhere before they sailed + out.’” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens and earth!” muttered Captain Mitchell, “I should not have + believed that anybody could be ass enough—” He paused, then went on + mournfully: “But what’s the good of all this? It would have been a clever + enough lie if the lighter had been still afloat. It would have kept that + inconceivable idiot perhaps from sending out the steamer to cruise in the + gulf. That was the danger that worried me no end.” Captain Mitchell sighed + profoundly. + </p> + <p> + “I had an object,” the doctor pronounced, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Had you?” muttered Captain Mitchell. “Well, that’s lucky, or else I would + have thought that you went on fooling him for the fun of the thing. And + perhaps that was your object. Well, I must say I personally wouldn’t + condescend to that sort of thing. It is not to my taste. No, no. + Blackening a friend’s character is not my idea of fun, if it were to fool + the greatest blackguard on earth.” + </p> + <p> + Had it not been for Captain Mitchell’s depression, caused by the fatal + news, his disgust of Dr. Monygham would have taken a more outspoken shape; + but he thought to himself that now it really did not matter what that man, + whom he had never liked, would say and do. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” he grumbled, “why they have shut us up together, or why + Sotillo should have shut you up at all, since it seems to me you have been + fairly chummy up there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I wonder,” said the doctor grimly. + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell’s heart was so heavy that he would have preferred for the + time being a complete solitude to the best of company. But any company + would have been preferable to the doctor’s, at whom he had always looked + askance as a sort of beachcomber of superior intelligence partly reclaimed + from his abased state. That feeling led him to ask— + </p> + <p> + “What has that ruffian done with the other two?” + </p> + <p> + “The chief engineer he would have let go in any case,” said the doctor. + “He wouldn’t like to have a quarrel with the railway upon his hands. Not + just yet, at any rate. I don’t think, Captain Mitchell, that you + understand exactly what Sotillo’s position is—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why I should bother my head about it,” snarled Captain + Mitchell. + </p> + <p> + “No,” assented the doctor, with the same grim composure. “I don’t see why + you should. It wouldn’t help a single human being in the world if you + thought ever so hard upon any subject whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Captain Mitchell, simply, and with evident depression. “A man + locked up in a confounded dark hole is not much use to anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “As to old Viola,” the doctor continued, as though he had not heard, + “Sotillo released him for the same reason he is presently going to release + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What?” exclaimed Captain Mitchell, staring like an owl in the + darkness. “What is there in common between me and old Viola? More likely + because the old chap has no watch and chain for the pickpocket to steal. + And I tell you what, Dr. Monygham,” he went on with rising choler, “he + will find it more difficult than he thinks to get rid of me. He will burn + his fingers over that job yet, I can tell you. To begin with, I won’t go + without my watch, and as to the rest—we shall see. I dare say it is + no great matter for you to be locked up. But Joe Mitchell is a different + kind of man, sir. I don’t mean to submit tamely to insult and robbery. I + am a public character, sir.” + </p> + <p> + And then Captain Mitchell became aware that the bars of the opening had + become visible, a black grating upon a square of grey. The coming of the + day silenced Captain Mitchell as if by the reflection that now in all the + future days he would be deprived of the invaluable services of his + Capataz. He leaned against the wall with his arms folded on his breast, + and the doctor walked up and down the whole length of the place with his + peculiar hobbling gait, as if slinking about on damaged feet. At the end + furthest from the grating he would be lost altogether in the darkness. + Only the slight limping shuffle could be heard. There was an air of moody + detachment in that painful prowl kept up without a pause. When the door of + the prison was suddenly flung open and his name shouted out he showed no + surprise. He swerved sharply in his walk, and passed out at once, as + though much depended upon his speed; but Captain Mitchell remained for + some time with his shoulders against the wall, quite undecided in the + bitterness of his spirit whether it wouldn’t be better to refuse to stir a + limb in the way of protest. He had half a mind to get himself carried out, + but after the officer at the door had shouted three or four times in tones + of remonstrance and surprise he condescended to walk out. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo’s manner had changed. The colonel’s off-hand civility was slightly + irresolute, as though he were in doubt if civility were the proper course + in this case. He observed Captain Mitchell attentively before he spoke + from the big armchair behind the table in a condescending voice— + </p> + <p> + “I have concluded not to detain you, Senor Mitchell. I am of a forgiving + disposition. I make allowances. Let this be a lesson to you, however.” + </p> + <p> + The peculiar dawn of Sulaco, which seems to break far away to the westward + and creep back into the shade of the mountains, mingled with the reddish + light of the candles. Captain Mitchell, in sign of contempt and + indifference, let his eyes roam all over the room, and he gave a hard + stare to the doctor, perched already on the casement of one of the + windows, with his eyelids lowered, careless and thoughtful—or + perhaps ashamed. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo, ensconced in the vast armchair, remarked, “I should have thought + that the feelings of a caballero would have dictated to you an appropriate + reply.” + </p> + <p> + He waited for it, but Captain Mitchell remaining mute, more from extreme + resentment than from reasoned intention, Sotillo hesitated, glanced + towards the doctor, who looked up and nodded, then went on with a slight + effort— + </p> + <p> + “Here, Senor Mitchell, is your watch. Learn how hasty and unjust has been + your judgment of my patriotic soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + Lying back in his seat, he extended his arm over the table and pushed the + watch away slightly. Captain Mitchell walked up with undisguised + eagerness, put it to his ear, then slipped it into his pocket coolly. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo seemed to overcome an immense reluctance. Again he looked aside at + the doctor, who stared at him unwinkingly. + </p> + <p> + But as Captain Mitchell was turning away, without as much as a nod or a + glance, he hastened to say— + </p> + <p> + “You may go and wait downstairs for the senor doctor, whom I am going to + liberate, too. You foreigners are insignificant, to my mind.” + </p> + <p> + He forced a slight, discordant laugh out of himself, while Captain + Mitchell, for the first time, looked at him with some interest. + </p> + <p> + “The law shall take note later on of your transgressions,” Sotillo hurried + on. “But as for me, you can live free, unguarded, unobserved. Do you hear, + Senor Mitchell? You may depart to your affairs. You are beneath my notice. + My attention is claimed by matters of the very highest importance.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell was very nearly provoked to an answer. It displeased him + to be liberated insultingly; but want of sleep, prolonged anxieties, a + profound disappointment with the fatal ending of the silver-saving + business weighed upon his spirits. It was as much as he could do to + conceal his uneasiness, not about himself perhaps, but about things in + general. It occurred to him distinctly that something underhand was going + on. As he went out he ignored the doctor pointedly. + </p> + <p> + “A brute!” said Sotillo, as the door shut. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham slipped off the window-sill, and, thrusting his hands into + the pockets of the long, grey dust coat he was wearing, made a few steps + into the room. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo got up, too, and, putting himself in the way, examined him from + head to foot. + </p> + <p> + “So your countrymen do not confide in you very much, senor doctor. They do + not love you, eh? Why is that, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor, lifting his head, answered by a long, lifeless stare and the + words, “Perhaps because I have lived too long in Costaguana.” + </p> + <p> + Sotillo had a gleam of white teeth under the black moustache. + </p> + <p> + “Aha! But you love yourself,” he said, encouragingly. + </p> + <p> + “If you leave them alone,” the doctor said, looking with the same lifeless + stare at Sotillo’s handsome face, “they will betray themselves very soon. + Meantime, I may try to make Don Carlos speak?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! senor doctor,” said Sotillo, wagging his head, “you are a man of + quick intelligence. We were made to understand each other.” He turned + away. He could bear no longer that expressionless and motionless stare, + which seemed to have a sort of impenetrable emptiness like the black depth + of an abyss. + </p> + <p> + Even in a man utterly devoid of moral sense there remains an appreciation + of rascality which, being conventional, is perfectly clear. Sotillo + thought that Dr. Monygham, so different from all Europeans, was ready to + sell his countrymen and Charles Gould, his employer, for some share of the + San Tome silver. Sotillo did not despise him for that. The colonel’s want + of moral sense was of a profound and innocent character. It bordered upon + stupidity, moral stupidity. Nothing that served his ends could appear to + him really reprehensible. Nevertheless, he despised Dr. Monygham. He had + for him an immense and satisfactory contempt. He despised him with all his + heart because he did not mean to let the doctor have any reward at all. He + despised him, not as a man without faith and honour, but as a fool. Dr. + Monygham’s insight into his character had deceived Sotillo completely. + Therefore he thought the doctor a fool. + </p> + <p> + Since his arrival in Sulaco the colonel’s ideas had undergone some + modification. + </p> + <p> + He no longer wished for a political career in Montero’s administration. He + had always doubted the safety of that course. Since he had learned from + the chief engineer that at daylight most likely he would be confronted by + Pedro Montero his misgivings on that point had considerably increased. The + guerrillero brother of the general—the Pedrito of popular speech—had + a reputation of his own. He wasn’t safe to deal with. Sotillo had vaguely + planned seizing not only the treasure but the town itself, and then + negotiating at leisure. But in the face of facts learned from the chief + engineer (who had frankly disclosed to him the whole situation) his + audacity, never of a very dashing kind, had been replaced by a most + cautious hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “An army—an army crossed the mountains under Pedrito already,” he + had repeated, unable to hide his consternation. “If it had not been that I + am given the news by a man of your position I would never have believed + it. Astonishing!” + </p> + <p> + “An armed force,” corrected the engineer, suavely. His aim was attained. + It was to keep Sulaco clear of any armed occupation for a few hours + longer, to let those whom fear impelled leave the town. In the general + dismay there were families hopeful enough to fly upon the road towards Los + Hatos, which was left open by the withdrawal of the armed rabble under + Senores Fuentes and Gamacho, to Rincon, with their enthusiastic welcome + for Pedro Montero. It was a hasty and risky exodus, and it was said that + Hernandez, occupying with his band the woods about Los Hatos, was + receiving the fugitives. That a good many people he knew were + contemplating such a flight had been well known to the chief engineer. + </p> + <p> + Father Corbelan’s efforts in the cause of that most pious robber had not + been altogether fruitless. The political chief of Sulaco had yielded at + the last moment to the urgent entreaties of the priest, had signed a + provisional nomination appointing Hernandez a general, and calling upon + him officially in this new capacity to preserve order in the town. The + fact is that the political chief, seeing the situation desperate, did not + care what he signed. It was the last official document he signed before he + left the palace of the Intendencia for the refuge of the O.S.N. Company’s + office. But even had he meant his act to be effective it was already too + late. The riot which he feared and expected broke out in less than an hour + after Father Corbelan had left him. Indeed, Father Corbelan, who had + appointed a meeting with Nostromo in the Dominican Convent, where he had + his residence in one of the cells, never managed to reach the place. From + the Intendencia he had gone straight on to the Avellanos’s house to tell + his brother-in-law, and though he stayed there no more than half an hour + he had found himself cut off from his ascetic abode. Nostromo, after + waiting there for some time, watching uneasily the increasing uproar in + the street, had made his way to the offices of the Porvenir, and stayed + there till daylight, as Decoud had mentioned in the letter to his sister. + Thus the Capataz, instead of riding towards the Los Hatos woods as bearer + of Hernandez’s nomination, had remained in town to save the life of the + President Dictator, to assist in repressing the outbreak of the mob, and + at last to sail out with the silver of the mine. + </p> + <p> + But Father Corbelan, escaping to Hernandez, had the document in his + pocket, a piece of official writing turning a bandit into a general in a + memorable last official act of the Ribierist party, whose watchwords were + honesty, peace, and progress. Probably neither the priest nor the bandit + saw the irony of it. Father Corbelan must have found messengers to send + into the town, for early on the second day of the disturbances there were + rumours of Hernandez being on the road to Los Hatos ready to receive those + who would put themselves under his protection. A strange-looking horseman, + elderly and audacious, had appeared in the town, riding slowly while his + eyes examined the fronts of the houses, as though he had never seen such + high buildings before. Before the cathedral he had dismounted, and, + kneeling in the middle of the Plaza, his bridle over his arm and his hat + lying in front of him on the ground, had bowed his head, crossing himself + and beating his breast for some little time. Remounting his horse, with a + fearless but not unfriendly look round the little gathering formed about + his public devotions, he had asked for the Casa Avellanos. A score of + hands were extended in answer, with fingers pointing up the Calle de la + Constitucion. + </p> + <p> + The horseman had gone on with only a glance of casual curiosity upwards to + the windows of the Amarilla Club at the corner. His stentorian voice + shouted periodically in the empty street, “Which is the Casa Avellanos?” + till an answer came from the scared porter, and he disappeared under the + gate. The letter he was bringing, written by Father Corbelan with a pencil + by the camp-fire of Hernandez, was addressed to Don Jose, of whose + critical state the priest was not aware. Antonia read it, and, after + consulting Charles Gould, sent it on for the information of the gentlemen + garrisoning the Amarilla Club. For herself, her mind was made up; she + would rejoin her uncle; she would entrust the last day—the last + hours perhaps—of her father’s life to the keeping of the bandit, + whose existence was a protest against the irresponsible tyranny of all + parties alike, against the moral darkness of the land. The gloom of Los + Hatos woods was preferable; a life of hardships in the train of a robber + band less debasing. Antonia embraced with all her soul her uncle’s + obstinate defiance of misfortune. It was grounded in the belief in the man + whom she loved. + </p> + <p> + In his message the Vicar-General answered upon his head for Hernandez’s + fidelity. As to his power, he pointed out that he had remained unsubdued + for so many years. In that letter Decoud’s idea of the new Occidental + State (whose flourishing and stable condition is a matter of common + knowledge now) was for the first time made public and used as an argument. + Hernandez, ex-bandit and the last general of Ribierist creation, was + confident of being able to hold the tract of country between the woods of + Los Hatos and the coast range till that devoted patriot, Don Martin + Decoud, could bring General Barrios back to Sulaco for the reconquest of + the town. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven itself wills it. Providence is on our side,” wrote Father + Corbelan; there was no time to reflect upon or to controvert his + statement; and if the discussion started upon the reading of that letter + in the Amarilla Club was violent, it was also shortlived. In the general + bewilderment of the collapse some jumped at the idea with joyful + astonishment as upon the amazing discovery of a new hope. Others became + fascinated by the prospect of immediate personal safety for their women + and children. The majority caught at it as a drowning man catches at a + straw. Father Corbelan was unexpectedly offering them a refuge from + Pedrito Montero with his llaneros allied to Senores Fuentes and Gamacho + with their armed rabble. + </p> + <p> + All the latter part of the afternoon an animated discussion went on in the + big rooms of the Amarilla Club. Even those members posted at the windows + with rifles and carbines to guard the end of the street in case of an + offensive return of the populace shouted their opinions and arguments over + their shoulders. As dusk fell Don Juste Lopez, inviting those caballeros + who were of his way of thinking to follow him, withdrew into the corredor, + where at a little table in the light of two candles he busied himself in + composing an address, or rather a solemn declaration to be presented to + Pedrito Montero by a deputation of such members of Assembly as had elected + to remain in town. His idea was to propitiate him in order to save the + form at least of parliamentary institutions. Seated before a blank sheet + of paper, a goose-quill pen in his hand and surged upon from all sides, he + turned to the right and to the left, repeating with solemn insistence— + </p> + <p> + “Caballeros, a moment of silence! A moment of silence! We ought to make it + clear that we bow in all good faith to the accomplished facts.” + </p> + <p> + The utterance of that phrase seemed to give him a melancholy satisfaction. + The hubbub of voices round him was growing strained and hoarse. In the + sudden pauses the excited grimacing of the faces would sink all at once + into the stillness of profound dejection. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the exodus had begun. Carretas full of ladies and children + rolled swaying across the Plaza, with men walking or riding by their side; + mounted parties followed on mules and horses; the poorest were setting out + on foot, men and women carrying bundles, clasping babies in their arms, + leading old people, dragging along the bigger children. When Charles + Gould, after leaving the doctor and the engineer at the Casa Viola, + entered the town by the harbour gate, all those that had meant to go were + gone, and the others had barricaded themselves in their houses. In the + whole dark street there was only one spot of flickering lights and moving + figures, where the Senor Administrador recognized his wife’s carriage + waiting at the door of the Avellanos’s house. He rode up, almost + unnoticed, and looked on without a word while some of his own servants + came out of the gate carrying Don Jose Avellanos, who, with closed eyes + and motionless features, appeared perfectly lifeless. His wife and Antonia + walked on each side of the improvised stretcher, which was put at once + into the carriage. The two women embraced; while from the other side of + the landau Father Corbelan’s emissary, with his ragged beard all streaked + with grey, and high, bronzed cheek-bones, stared, sitting upright in the + saddle. Then Antonia, dry-eyed, got in by the side of the stretcher, and, + after making the sign of the cross rapidly, lowered a thick veil upon her + face. The servants and the three or four neighbours who had come to + assist, stood back, uncovering their heads. On the box, Ignacio, resigned + now to driving all night (and to having perhaps his throat cut before + daylight) looked back surlily over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Drive carefully,” cried Mrs. Gould in a tremulous voice. + </p> + <p> + “Si, carefully; si nina,” he mumbled, chewing his lips, his round leathery + cheeks quivering. And the landau rolled slowly out of the light. + </p> + <p> + “I will see them as far as the ford,” said Charles Gould to his wife. She + stood on the edge of the sidewalk with her hands clasped lightly, and + nodded to him as he followed after the carriage. And now the windows of + the Amarilla Club were dark. The last spark of resistance had died out. + Turning his head at the corner, Charles Gould saw his wife crossing over + to their own gate in the lighted patch of the street. One of their + neighbours, a well-known merchant and landowner of the province, followed + at her elbow, talking with great gestures. As she passed in all the lights + went out in the street, which remained dark and empty from end to end. + </p> + <p> + The houses of the vast Plaza were lost in the night. High up, like a star, + there was a small gleam in one of the towers of the cathedral; and the + equestrian statue gleamed pale against the black trees of the Alameda, + like a ghost of royalty haunting the scenes of revolution. The rare + prowlers they met ranged themselves against the wall. Beyond the last + houses the carriage rolled noiselessly on the soft cushion of dust, and + with a greater obscurity a feeling of freshness seemed to fall from the + foliage of the trees bordering the country road. The emissary from + Hernandez’s camp pushed his horse close to Charles Gould. + </p> + <p> + “Caballero,” he said in an interested voice, “you are he whom they call + the King of Sulaco, the master of the mine? Is it not so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am the master of the mine,” answered Charles Gould. + </p> + <p> + The man cantered for a time in silence, then said, “I have a brother, a + sereno in your service in the San Tome valley. You have proved yourself a + just man. There has been no wrong done to any one since you called upon + the people to work in the mountains. My brother says that no official of + the Government, no oppressor of the Campo, has been seen on your side of + the stream. Your own officials do not oppress the people in the gorge. + Doubtless they are afraid of your severity. You are a just man and a + powerful one,” he added. + </p> + <p> + He spoke in an abrupt, independent tone, but evidently he was + communicative with a purpose. He told Charles Gould that he had been a + ranchero in one of the lower valleys, far south, a neighbour of Hernandez + in the old days, and godfather to his eldest boy; one of those who joined + him in his resistance to the recruiting raid which was the beginning of + all their misfortunes. It was he that, when his compadre had been carried + off, had buried his wife and children, murdered by the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + “Si, senor,” he muttered, hoarsely, “I and two or three others, the lucky + ones left at liberty, buried them all in one grave near the ashes of their + ranch, under the tree that had shaded its roof.” + </p> + <p> + It was to him, too, that Hernandez came after he had deserted, three years + afterwards. He had still his uniform on with the sergeant’s stripes on the + sleeve, and the blood of his colonel upon his hands and breast. Three + troopers followed him, of those who had started in pursuit but had ridden + on for liberty. And he told Charles Gould how he and a few friends, seeing + those soldiers, lay in ambush behind some rocks ready to pull the trigger + on them, when he recognized his compadre and jumped up from cover, + shouting his name, because he knew that Hernandez could not have been + coming back on an errand of injustice and oppression. Those three + soldiers, together with the party who lay behind the rocks, had formed the + nucleus of the famous band, and he, the narrator, had been the favourite + lieutenant of Hernandez for many, many years. He mentioned proudly that + the officials had put a price upon his head, too; but it did not prevent + it getting sprinkled with grey upon his shoulders. And now he had lived + long enough to see his compadre made a general. + </p> + <p> + He had a burst of muffled laughter. “And now from robbers we have become + soldiers. But look, Caballero, at those who made us soldiers and him a + general! Look at these people!” + </p> + <p> + Ignacio shouted. The light of the carriage lamps, running along the nopal + hedges that crowned the bank on each side, flashed upon the scared faces + of people standing aside in the road, sunk deep, like an English country + lane, into the soft soil of the Campo. They cowered; their eyes glistened + very big for a second; and then the light, running on, fell upon the + half-denuded roots of a big tree, on another stretch of nopal hedge, + caught up another bunch of faces glaring back apprehensively. Three women—of + whom one was carrying a child—and a couple of men in civilian dress—one + armed with a sabre and another with a gun—were grouped about a + donkey carrying two bundles tied up in blankets. Further on Ignacio + shouted again to pass a carreta, a long wooden box on two high wheels, + with the door at the back swinging open. Some ladies in it must have + recognized the white mules, because they screamed out, “Is it you, Dona + Emilia?” + </p> + <p> + At the turn of the road the glare of a big fire filled the short stretch + vaulted over by the branches meeting overhead. Near the ford of a shallow + stream a roadside rancho of woven rushes and a roof of grass had been set + on fire by accident, and the flames, roaring viciously, lit up an open + space blocked with horses, mules, and a distracted, shouting crowd of + people. When Ignacio pulled up, several ladies on foot assailed the + carriage, begging Antonia for a seat. To their clamour she answered by + pointing silently to her father. + </p> + <p> + “I must leave you here,” said Charles Gould, in the uproar. The flames + leaped up sky-high, and in the recoil from the scorching heat across the + road the stream of fugitives pressed against the carriage. A middle-aged + lady dressed in black silk, but with a coarse manta over her head and a + rough branch for a stick in her hand, staggered against the front wheel. + Two young girls, frightened and silent, were clinging to her arms. Charles + Gould knew her very well. + </p> + <p> + “Misericordia! We are getting terribly bruised in this crowd!” she + exclaimed, smiling up courageously to him. “We have started on foot. All + our servants ran away yesterday to join the democrats. We are going to put + ourselves under the protection of Father Corbelan, of your sainted uncle, + Antonia. He has wrought a miracle in the heart of a most merciless robber. + A miracle!” + </p> + <p> + She raised her voice gradually up to a scream as she was borne along by + the pressure of people getting out of the way of some carts coming up out + of the ford at a gallop, with loud yells and cracking of whips. Great + masses of sparks mingled with black smoke flew over the road; the bamboos + of the walls detonated in the fire with the sound of an irregular + fusillade. And then the bright blaze sank suddenly, leaving only a red + dusk crowded with aimless dark shadows drifting in contrary directions; + the noise of voices seemed to die away with the flame; and the tumult of + heads, arms, quarrelling, and imprecations passed on fleeing into the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “I must leave you now,” repeated Charles Gould to Antonia. She turned her + head slowly and uncovered her face. The emissary and compadre of Hernandez + spurred his horse close up. + </p> + <p> + “Has not the master of the mine any message to send to Hernandez, the + master of the Campo?” + </p> + <p> + The truth of the comparison struck Charles Gould heavily. In his + determined purpose he held the mine, and the indomitable bandit held the + Campo by the same precarious tenure. They were equals before the + lawlessness of the land. It was impossible to disentangle one’s activity + from its debasing contacts. A close-meshed net of crime and corruption lay + upon the whole country. An immense and weary discouragement sealed his + lips for a time. + </p> + <p> + “You are a just man,” urged the emissary of Hernandez. “Look at those + people who made my compadre a general and have turned us all into + soldiers. Look at those oligarchs fleeing for life, with only the clothes + on their backs. My compadre does not think of that, but our followers may + be wondering greatly, and I would speak for them to you. Listen, senor! + For many months now the Campo has been our own. We need ask no man for + anything; but soldiers must have their pay to live honestly when the wars + are over. It is believed that your soul is so just that a prayer from you + would cure the sickness of every beast, like the orison of the upright + judge. Let me have some words from your lips that would act like a charm + upon the doubts of our partida, where all are men.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear what he says?” Charles Gould said in English to Antonia. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive us our misery!” she exclaimed, hurriedly. “It is your character + that is the inexhaustible treasure which may save us all yet; your + character, Carlos, not your wealth. I entreat you to give this man your + word that you will accept any arrangement my uncle may make with their + chief. One word. He will want no more.” + </p> + <p> + On the site of the roadside hut there remained nothing but an enormous + heap of embers, throwing afar a darkening red glow, in which Antonia’s + face appeared deeply flushed with excitement. Charles Gould, with only a + short hesitation, pronounced the required pledge. He was like a man who + had ventured on a precipitous path with no room to turn, where the only + chance of safety is to press forward. At that moment he understood it + thoroughly as he looked down at Don Jose stretched out, hardly breathing, + by the side of the erect Antonia, vanquished in a lifelong struggle with + the powers of moral darkness, whose stagnant depths breed monstrous crimes + and monstrous illusions. In a few words the emissary from Hernandez + expressed his complete satisfaction. Stoically Antonia lowered her veil, + resisting the longing to inquire about Decoud’s escape. But Ignacio leered + morosely over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Take a good look at the mules, mi amo,” he grumbled. “You shall never see + them again!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER FOUR + </h2> + <p> + Charles Gould turned towards the town. Before him the jagged peaks of the + Sierra came out all black in the clear dawn. Here and there a muffled + lepero whisked round the corner of a grass-grown street before the ringing + hoofs of his horse. Dogs barked behind the walls of the gardens; and with + the colourless light the chill of the snows seemed to fall from the + mountains upon the disjointed pavements and the shuttered houses with + broken cornices and the plaster peeling in patches between the flat + pilasters of the fronts. The daybreak struggled with the gloom under the + arcades on the Plaza, with no signs of country people disposing their + goods for the day’s market, piles of fruit, bundles of vegetables + ornamented with flowers, on low benches under enormous mat umbrellas; with + no cheery early morning bustle of villagers, women, children, and loaded + donkeys. Only a few scattered knots of revolutionists stood in the vast + space, all looking one way from under their slouched hats for some sign of + news from Rincon. The largest of those groups turned about like one man as + Charles Gould passed, and shouted, “Viva la libertad!” after him in a + menacing tone. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould rode on, and turned into the archway of his house. In the + patio littered with straw, a practicante, one of Dr. Monygham’s native + assistants, sat on the ground with his back against the rim of the + fountain, fingering a guitar discreetly, while two girls of the lower + class, standing up before him, shuffled their feet a little and waved + their arms, humming a popular dance tune. + </p> + <p> + Most of the wounded during the two days of rioting had been taken away + already by their friends and relations, but several figures could be seen + sitting up balancing their bandaged heads in time to the music. Charles + Gould dismounted. A sleepy mozo coming out of the bakery door took hold of + the horse’s bridle; the practicante endeavoured to conceal his guitar + hastily; the girls, unabashed, stepped back smiling; and Charles Gould, on + his way to the staircase, glanced into a dark corner of the patio at + another group, a mortally wounded Cargador with a woman kneeling by his + side; she mumbled prayers rapidly, trying at the same time to force a + piece of orange between the stiffening lips of the dying man. + </p> + <p> + The cruel futility of things stood unveiled in the levity and sufferings + of that incorrigible people; the cruel futility of lives and of deaths + thrown away in the vain endeavour to attain an enduring solution of the + problem. Unlike Decoud, Charles Gould could not play lightly a part in a + tragic farce. It was tragic enough for him in all conscience, but he could + see no farcical element. He suffered too much under a conviction of + irremediable folly. He was too severely practical and too idealistic to + look upon its terrible humours with amusement, as Martin Decoud, the + imaginative materialist, was able to do in the dry light of his + scepticism. To him, as to all of us, the compromises with his conscience + appeared uglier than ever in the light of failure. His taciturnity, + assumed with a purpose, had prevented him from tampering openly with his + thoughts; but the Gould Concession had insidiously corrupted his judgment. + He might have known, he said to himself, leaning over the balustrade of + the corredor, that Ribierism could never come to anything. The mine had + corrupted his judgment by making him sick of bribing and intriguing merely + to have his work left alone from day to day. Like his father, he did not + like to be robbed. It exasperated him. He had persuaded himself that, + apart from higher considerations, the backing up of Don Jose’s hopes of + reform was good business. He had gone forth into the senseless fray as his + poor uncle, whose sword hung on the wall of his study, had gone forth—in + the defence of the commonest decencies of organized society. Only his + weapon was the wealth of the mine, more far-reaching and subtle than an + honest blade of steel fitted into a simple brass guard. + </p> + <p> + More dangerous to the wielder, too, this weapon of wealth, double-edged + with the cupidity and misery of mankind, steeped in all the vices of + self-indulgence as in a concoction of poisonous roots, tainting the very + cause for which it is drawn, always ready to turn awkwardly in the hand. + There was nothing for it now but to go on using it. But he promised + himself to see it shattered into small bits before he let it be wrenched + from his grasp. + </p> + <p> + After all, with his English parentage and English upbringing, he perceived + that he was an adventurer in Costaguana, the descendant of adventurers + enlisted in a foreign legion, of men who had sought fortune in a + revolutionary war, who had planned revolutions, who had believed in + revolutions. For all the uprightness of his character, he had something of + an adventurer’s easy morality which takes count of personal risk in the + ethical appraising of his action. He was prepared, if need be, to blow up + the whole San Tome mountain sky high out of the territory of the Republic. + This resolution expressed the tenacity of his character, the remorse of + that subtle conjugal infidelity through which his wife was no longer the + sole mistress of his thoughts, something of his father’s imaginative + weakness, and something, too, of the spirit of a buccaneer throwing a + lighted match into the magazine rather than surrender his ship. + </p> + <p> + Down below in the patio the wounded Cargador had breathed his last. The + woman cried out once, and her cry, unexpected and shrill, made all the + wounded sit up. The practicante scrambled to his feet, and, guitar in + hand, gazed steadily in her direction with elevated eyebrows. The two + girls—sitting now one on each side of their wounded relative, with + their knees drawn up and long cigars between their lips—nodded at + each other significantly. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, looking down over the balustrade, saw three men dressed + ceremoniously in black frock-coats with white shirts, and wearing European + round hats, enter the patio from the street. One of them, head and + shoulders taller than the two others, advanced with marked gravity, + leading the way. This was Don Juste Lopez, accompanied by two of his + friends, members of Assembly, coming to call upon the Administrador of the + San Tome mine at this early hour. They saw him, too, waved their hands to + him urgently, walking up the stairs as if in procession. + </p> + <p> + Don Juste, astonishingly changed by having shaved off altogether his + damaged beard, had lost with it nine-tenths of his outward dignity. Even + at that time of serious pre-occupation Charles Gould could not help noting + the revealed ineptitude in the aspect of the man. His companions looked + crestfallen and sleepy. One kept on passing the tip of his tongue over his + parched lips; the other’s eyes strayed dully over the tiled floor of the + corredor, while Don Juste, standing a little in advance, harangued the + Senor Administrador of the San Tome mine. It was his firm opinion that + forms had to be observed. A new governor is always visited by deputations + from the Cabildo, which is the Municipal Council, from the Consulado, the + commercial Board, and it was proper that the Provincial Assembly should + send a deputation, too, if only to assert the existence of parliamentary + institutions. Don Juste proposed that Don Carlos Gould, as the most + prominent citizen of the province, should join the Assembly’s deputation. + His position was exceptional, his personality known through the length and + breadth of the whole Republic. Official courtesies must not be neglected, + if they are gone through with a bleeding heart. The acceptance of + accomplished facts may save yet the precious vestiges of parliamentary + institutions. Don Juste’s eyes glowed dully; he believed in parliamentary + institutions—and the convinced drone of his voice lost itself in the + stillness of the house like the deep buzzing of some ponderous insect. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould had turned round to listen patiently, leaning his elbow on + the balustrade. He shook his head a little, refusing, almost touched by + the anxious gaze of the President of the Provincial Assembly. It was not + Charles Gould’s policy to make the San Tome mine a party to any formal + proceedings. + </p> + <p> + “My advice, senores, is that you should wait for your fate in your houses. + There is no necessity for you to give yourselves up formally into + Montero’s hands. Submission to the inevitable, as Don Juste calls it, is + all very well, but when the inevitable is called Pedrito Montero there is + no need to exhibit pointedly the whole extent of your surrender. The fault + of this country is the want of measure in political life. Flat + acquiescence in illegality, followed by sanguinary reaction—that, + senores, is not the way to a stable and prosperous future.” + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould stopped before the sad bewilderment of the faces, the + wondering, anxious glances of the eyes. The feeling of pity for those men, + putting all their trust into words of some sort, while murder and rapine + stalked over the land, had betrayed him into what seemed empty loquacity. + Don Juste murmured— + </p> + <p> + “You are abandoning us, Don Carlos. . . . And yet, parliamentary + institutions—” + </p> + <p> + He could not finish from grief. For a moment he put his hand over his + eyes. Charles Gould, in his fear of empty loquacity, made no answer to the + charge. He returned in silence their ceremonious bows. His taciturnity was + his refuge. He understood that what they sought was to get the influence + of the San Tome mine on their side. They wanted to go on a conciliating + errand to the victor under the wing of the Gould Concession. Other public + bodies—the Cabildo, the Consulado—would be coming, too, + presently, seeking the support of the most stable, the most effective + force they had ever known to exist in their province. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, arriving with his sharp, jerky walk, found that the master had + retired into his own room with orders not to be disturbed on any account. + But Dr. Monygham was not anxious to see Charles Gould at once. He spent + some time in a rapid examination of his wounded. He gazed down upon each + in turn, rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger; his steady + stare met without expression their silently inquisitive look. All these + cases were doing well; but when he came to the dead Cargador he stopped a + little longer, surveying not the man who had ceased to suffer, but the + woman kneeling in silent contemplation of the rigid face, with its pinched + nostrils and a white gleam in the imperfectly closed eyes. She lifted her + head slowly, and said in a dull voice— + </p> + <p> + “It is not long since he had become a Cargador—only a few weeks. His + worship the Capataz had accepted him after many entreaties.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not responsible for the great Capataz,” muttered the doctor, moving + off. + </p> + <p> + Directing his course upstairs towards the door of Charles Gould’s room, + the doctor at the last moment hesitated; then, turning away from the + handle with a shrug of his uneven shoulders, slunk off hastily along the + corredor in search of Mrs. Gould’s camerista. + </p> + <p> + Leonarda told him that the senora had not risen yet. The senora had given + into her charge the girls belonging to that Italian posadero. She, + Leonarda, had put them to bed in her own room. The fair girl had cried + herself to sleep, but the dark one—the bigger—had not closed + her eyes yet. She sat up in bed clutching the sheets right up under her + chin and staring before her like a little witch. Leonarda did not approve + of the Viola children being admitted to the house. She made this feeling + clear by the indifferent tone in which she inquired whether their mother + was dead yet. As to the senora, she must be asleep. Ever since she had + gone into her room after seeing the departure of Dona Antonia with her + dying father, there had been no sound behind her door. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, rousing himself out of profound reflection, told her abruptly + to call her mistress at once. He hobbled off to wait for Mrs. Gould in the + sala. He was very tired, but too excited to sit down. In this great + drawing-room, now empty, in which his withered soul had been refreshed + after many arid years and his outcast spirit had accepted silently the + toleration of many side-glances, he wandered haphazard amongst the chairs + and tables till Mrs. Gould, enveloped in a morning wrapper, came in + rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “You know that I never approved of the silver being sent away,” the doctor + began at once, as a preliminary to the narrative of his night’s adventures + in association with Captain Mitchell, the engineer-in-chief, and old + Viola, at Sotillo’s headquarters. To the doctor, with his special + conception of this political crisis, the removal of the silver had seemed + an irrational and ill-omened measure. It was as if a general were sending + the best part of his troops away on the eve of battle upon some recondite + pretext. The whole lot of ingots might have been concealed somewhere where + they could have been got at for the purpose of staving off the dangers + which were menacing the security of the Gould Concession. The + Administrador had acted as if the immense and powerful prosperity of the + mine had been founded on methods of probity, on the sense of usefulness. + And it was nothing of the kind. The method followed had been the only one + possible. The Gould Concession had ransomed its way through all those + years. It was a nauseous process. He quite understood that Charles Gould + had got sick of it and had left the old path to back up that hopeless + attempt at reform. The doctor did not believe in the reform of Costaguana. + And now the mine was back again in its old path, with the disadvantage + that henceforth it had to deal not only with the greed provoked by its + wealth, but with the resentment awakened by the attempt to free itself + from its bondage to moral corruption. That was the penalty of failure. + What made him uneasy was that Charles Gould seemed to him to have weakened + at the decisive moment when a frank return to the old methods was the only + chance. Listening to Decoud’s wild scheme had been a weakness. + </p> + <p> + The doctor flung up his arms, exclaiming, “Decoud! Decoud!” He hobbled + about the room with slight, angry laughs. Many years ago both his ankles + had been seriously damaged in the course of a certain investigation + conducted in the castle of Sta. Marta by a commission composed of military + men. Their nomination had been signified to them unexpectedly at the dead + of night, with scowling brow, flashing eyes, and in a tempestuous voice, + by Guzman Bento. The old tyrant, maddened by one of his sudden accesses of + suspicion, mingled spluttering appeals to their fidelity with imprecations + and horrible menaces. The cells and casements of the castle on the hill + had been already filled with prisoners. The commission was charged now + with the task of discovering the iniquitous conspiracy against the + Citizen-Saviour of his country. + </p> + <p> + Their dread of the raving tyrant translated itself into a hasty ferocity + of procedure. The Citizen-Saviour was not accustomed to wait. A conspiracy + had to be discovered. The courtyards of the castle resounded with the + clanking of leg-irons, sounds of blows, yells of pain; and the commission + of high officers laboured feverishly, concealing their distress and + apprehensions from each other, and especially from their secretary, Father + Beron, an army chaplain, at that time very much in the confidence of the + Citizen-Saviour. That priest was a big round-shouldered man, with an + unclean-looking, overgrown tonsure on the top of his flat head, of a + dingy, yellow complexion, softly fat, with greasy stains all down the + front of his lieutenant’s uniform, and a small cross embroidered in white + cotton on his left breast. He had a heavy nose and a pendant lip. Dr. + Monygham remembered him still. He remembered him against all the force of + his will striving its utmost to forget. Father Beron had been adjoined to + the commission by Guzman Bento expressly for the purpose that his + enlightened zeal should assist them in their labours. Dr. Monygham could + by no manner of means forget the zeal of Father Beron, or his face, or the + pitiless, monotonous voice in which he pronounced the words, “Will you + confess now?” + </p> + <p> + This memory did not make him shudder, but it had made of him what he was + in the eyes of respectable people, a man careless of common decencies, + something between a clever vagabond and a disreputable doctor. But not all + respectable people would have had the necessary delicacy of sentiment to + understand with what trouble of mind and accuracy of vision Dr. Monygham, + medical officer of the San Tome mine, remembered Father Beron, army + chaplain, and once a secretary of a military commission. After all these + years Dr. Monygham, in his rooms at the end of the hospital building in + the San Tome gorge, remembered Father Beron as distinctly as ever. He + remembered that priest at night, sometimes, in his sleep. On such nights + the doctor waited for daylight with a candle lighted, and walking the + whole length of his rooms to and fro, staring down at his bare feet, his + arms hugging his sides tightly. He would dream of Father Beron sitting at + the end of a long black table, behind which, in a row, appeared the heads, + shoulders, and epaulettes of the military members, nibbling the feather of + a quill pen, and listening with weary and impatient scorn to the + protestations of some prisoner calling heaven to witness of his innocence, + till he burst out, “What’s the use of wasting time over that miserable + nonsense! Let me take him outside for a while.” And Father Beron would go + outside after the clanking prisoner, led away between two soldiers. Such + interludes happened on many days, many times, with many prisoners. When + the prisoner returned he was ready to make a full confession, Father Beron + would declare, leaning forward with that dull, surfeited look which can be + seen in the eyes of gluttonous persons after a heavy meal. + </p> + <p> + The priest’s inquisitorial instincts suffered but little from the want of + classical apparatus of the Inquisition. At no time of the world’s history + have men been at a loss how to inflict mental and bodily anguish upon + their fellow-creatures. This aptitude came to them in the growing + complexity of their passions and the early refinement of their ingenuity. + But it may safely be said that primeval man did not go to the trouble of + inventing tortures. He was indolent and pure of heart. He brained his + neighbour ferociously with a stone axe from necessity and without malice. + The stupidest mind may invent a rankling phrase or brand the innocent with + a cruel aspersion. A piece of string and a ramrod; a few muskets in + combination with a length of hide rope; or even a simple mallet of heavy, + hard wood applied with a swing to human fingers or to the joints of a + human body is enough for the infliction of the most exquisite torture. The + doctor had been a very stubborn prisoner, and, as a natural consequence of + that “bad disposition” (so Father Beron called it), his subjugation had + been very crushing and very complete. That is why the limp in his walk, + the twist of his shoulders, the scars on his cheeks were so pronounced. + His confessions, when they came at last, were very complete, too. + Sometimes on the nights when he walked the floor, he wondered, grinding + his teeth with shame and rage, at the fertility of his imagination when + stimulated by a sort of pain which makes truth, honour, selfrespect, and + life itself matters of little moment. + </p> + <p> + And he could not forget Father Beron with his monotonous phrase, “Will you + confess now?” reaching him in an awful iteration and lucidity of meaning + through the delirious incoherence of unbearable pain. He could not forget. + But that was not the worst. Had he met Father Beron in the street after + all these years Dr. Monygham was sure he would have quailed before him. + This contingency was not to be feared now. Father Beron was dead; but the + sickening certitude prevented Dr. Monygham from looking anybody in the + face. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham had become, in a manner, the slave of a ghost. It was + obviously impossible to take his knowledge of Father Beron home to Europe. + When making his extorted confessions to the Military Board, Dr. Monygham + was not seeking to avoid death. He longed for it. Sitting half-naked for + hours on the wet earth of his prison, and so motionless that the spiders, + his companions, attached their webs to his matted hair, he consoled the + misery of his soul with acute reasonings that he had confessed to crimes + enough for a sentence of death—that they had gone too far with him + to let him live to tell the tale. + </p> + <p> + But, as if by a refinement of cruelty, Dr. Monygham was left for months to + decay slowly in the darkness of his grave-like prison. It was no doubt + hoped that it would finish him off without the trouble of an execution; + but Dr. Monygham had an iron constitution. It was Guzman Bento who died, + not by the knife thrust of a conspirator, but from a stroke of apoplexy, + and Dr. Monygham was liberated hastily. His fetters were struck off by the + light of a candle, which, after months of gloom, hurt his eyes so much + that he had to cover his face with his hands. He was raised up. His heart + was beating violently with the fear of this liberty. When he tried to walk + the extraordinary lightness of his feet made him giddy, and he fell down. + Two sticks were thrust into his hands, and he was pushed out of the + passage. It was dusk; candles glimmered already in the windows of the + officers’ quarters round the courtyard; but the twilight sky dazed him by + its enormous and overwhelming brilliance. A thin poncho hung over his + naked, bony shoulders; the rags of his trousers came down no lower than + his knees; an eighteen months’ growth of hair fell in dirty grey locks on + each side of his sharp cheek-bones. As he dragged himself past the + guard-room door, one of the soldiers, lolling outside, moved by some + obscure impulse, leaped forward with a strange laugh and rammed a broken + old straw hat on his head. And Dr. Monygham, after having tottered, + continued on his way. He advanced one stick, then one maimed foot, then + the other stick; the other foot followed only a very short distance along + the ground, toilfully, as though it were almost too heavy to be moved at + all; and yet his legs under the hanging angles of the poncho appeared no + thicker than the two sticks in his hands. A ceaseless trembling agitated + his bent body, all his wasted limbs, his bony head, the conical, ragged + crown of the sombrero, whose ample flat rim rested on his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + In such conditions of manner and attire did Dr. Monygham go forth to take + possession of his liberty. And these conditions seemed to bind him + indissolubly to the land of Costaguana like an awful procedure of + naturalization, involving him deep in the national life, far deeper than + any amount of success and honour could have done. They did away with his + Europeanism; for Dr. Monygham had made himself an ideal conception of his + disgrace. It was a conception eminently fit and proper for an officer and + a gentleman. Dr. Monygham, before he went out to Costaguana, had been + surgeon in one of Her Majesty’s regiments of foot. It was a conception + which took no account of physiological facts or reasonable arguments; but + it was not stupid for all that. It was simple. A rule of conduct resting + mainly on severe rejections is necessarily simple. Dr. Monygham’s view of + what it behoved him to do was severe; it was an ideal view, in so much + that it was the imaginative exaggeration of a correct feeling. It was + also, in its force, influence, and persistency, the view of an eminently + loyal nature. + </p> + <p> + There was a great fund of loyalty in Dr. Monygham’s nature. He had settled + it all on Mrs. Gould’s head. He believed her worthy of every devotion. At + the bottom of his heart he felt an angry uneasiness before the prosperity + of the San Tome mine, because its growth was robbing her of all peace of + mind. Costaguana was no place for a woman of that kind. What could Charles + Gould have been thinking of when he brought her out there! It was + outrageous! And the doctor had watched the course of events with a grim + and distant reserve which, he imagined, his lamentable history imposed + upon him. + </p> + <p> + Loyalty to Mrs. Gould could not, however, leave out of account the safety + of her husband. The doctor had contrived to be in town at the critical + time because he mistrusted Charles Gould. He considered him hopelessly + infected with the madness of revolutions. That is why he hobbled in + distress in the drawing-room of the Casa Gould on that morning, + exclaiming, “Decoud, Decoud!” in a tone of mournful irritation. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould, her colour heightened, and with glistening eyes, looked + straight before her at the sudden enormity of that disaster. The + finger-tips on one hand rested lightly on a low little table by her side, + and the arm trembled right up to the shoulder. The sun, which looks late + upon Sulaco, issuing in all the fulness of its power high up on the sky + from behind the dazzling snow-edge of Higuerota, had precipitated the + delicate, smooth, pearly greyness of light, in which the town lies steeped + during the early hours, into sharp-cut masses of black shade and spaces of + hot, blinding glare. Three long rectangles of sunshine fell through the + windows of the sala; while just across the street the front of the + Avellanos’s house appeared very sombre in its own shadow seen through the + flood of light. + </p> + <p> + A voice said at the door, “What of Decoud?” + </p> + <p> + It was Charles Gould. They had not heard him coming along the corredor. + His glance just glided over his wife and struck full at the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “You have brought some news, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham blurted it all out at once, in the rough. For some time after + he had done, the Administrador of the San Tome mine remained looking at + him without a word. Mrs. Gould sank into a low chair with her hands lying + on her lap. A silence reigned between those three motionless persons. Then + Charles Gould spoke— + </p> + <p> + “You must want some breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + He stood aside to let his wife pass first. She caught up her husband’s + hand and pressed it as she went out, raising her handkerchief to her eyes. + The sight of her husband had brought Antonia’s position to her mind, and + she could not contain her tears at the thought of the poor girl. When she + rejoined the two men in the diningroom after having bathed her face, + Charles Gould was saying to the doctor across the table— + </p> + <p> + “No, there does not seem any room for doubt.” + </p> + <p> + And the doctor assented. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t see myself how we could question that wretched Hirsch’s tale. + It’s only too true, I fear.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down desolately at the head of the table and looked from one to + the other. The two men, without absolutely turning their heads away, tried + to avoid her glance. The doctor even made a show of being hungry; he + seized his knife and fork, and began to eat with emphasis, as if on the + stage. Charles Gould made no pretence of the sort; with his elbows raised + squarely, he twisted both ends of his flaming moustaches—they were + so long that his hands were quite away from his face. + </p> + <p> + “I am not surprised,” he muttered, abandoning his moustaches and throwing + one arm over the back of his chair. His face was calm with that immobility + of expression which betrays the intensity of a mental struggle. He felt + that this accident had brought to a point all the consequences involved in + his line of conduct, with its conscious and subconscious intentions. There + must be an end now of this silent reserve, of that air of impenetrability + behind which he had been safeguarding his dignity. It was the least + ignoble form of dissembling forced upon him by that parody of civilized + institutions which offended his intelligence, his uprightness, and his + sense of right. He was like his father. He had no ironic eye. He was not + amused at the absurdities that prevail in this world. They hurt him in his + innate gravity. He felt that the miserable death of that poor Decoud took + from him his inaccessible position of a force in the background. It + committed him openly unless he wished to throw up the game—and that + was impossible. The material interests required from him the sacrifice of + his aloofness—perhaps his own safety too. And he reflected that + Decoud’s separationist plan had not gone to the bottom with the lost + silver. + </p> + <p> + The only thing that was not changed was his position towards Mr. Holroyd. + The head of silver and steel interests had entered into Costaguana affairs + with a sort of passion. Costaguana had become necessary to his existence; + in the San Tome mine he had found the imaginative satisfaction which other + minds would get from drama, from art, or from a risky and fascinating + sport. It was a special form of the great man’s extravagance, sanctioned + by a moral intention, big enough to flatter his vanity. Even in this + aberration of his genius he served the progress of the world. Charles + Gould felt sure of being understood with precision and judged with the + indulgence of their common passion. Nothing now could surprise or startle + this great man. And Charles Gould imagined himself writing a letter to San + Francisco in some such words: “. . . . The men at the head of the movement + are dead or have fled; the civil organization of the province is at an end + for the present; the Blanco party in Sulaco has collapsed inexcusably, but + in the characteristic manner of this country. But Barrios, untouched in + Cayta, remains still available. I am forced to take up openly the plan of + a provincial revolution as the only way of placing the enormous material + interests involved in the prosperity and peace of Sulaco in a position of + permanent safety. . . .” That was clear. He saw these words as if written + in letters of fire upon the wall at which he was gazing abstractedly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs Gould watched his abstraction with dread. It was a domestic and + frightful phenomenon that darkened and chilled the house for her like a + thundercloud passing over the sun. Charles Gould’s fits of abstraction + depicted the energetic concentration of a will haunted by a fixed idea. A + man haunted by a fixed idea is insane. He is dangerous even if that idea + is an idea of justice; for may he not bring the heaven down pitilessly + upon a loved head? The eyes of Mrs. Gould, watching her husband’s profile, + filled with tears again. And again she seemed to see the despair of the + unfortunate Antonia. + </p> + <p> + “What would I have done if Charley had been drowned while we were + engaged?” she exclaimed, mentally, with horror. Her heart turned to ice, + while her cheeks flamed up as if scorched by the blaze of a funeral pyre + consuming all her earthly affections. The tears burst out of her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Antonia will kill herself!” she cried out. + </p> + <p> + This cry fell into the silence of the room with strangely little effect. + Only the doctor, crumbling up a piece of bread, with his head inclined on + one side, raised his face, and the few long hairs sticking out of his + shaggy eyebrows stirred in a slight frown. Dr. Monygham thought quite + sincerely that Decoud was a singularly unworthy object for any woman’s + affection. Then he lowered his head again, with a curl of his lip, and his + heart full of tender admiration for Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “She thinks of that girl,” he said to himself; “she thinks of the Viola + children; she thinks of me; of the wounded; of the miners; she always + thinks of everybody who is poor and miserable! But what will she do if + Charles gets the worst of it in this infernal scrimmage those confounded + Avellanos have drawn him into? No one seems to be thinking of her.” + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, staring at the wall, pursued his reflections subtly. + </p> + <p> + “I shall write to Holroyd that the San Tome mine is big enough to take in + hand the making of a new State. It’ll please him. It’ll reconcile him to + the risk.” + </p> + <p> + But was Barrios really available? Perhaps. But he was inaccessible. To + send off a boat to Cayta was no longer possible, since Sotillo was master + of the harbour, and had a steamer at his disposal. And now, with all the + democrats in the province up, and every Campo township in a state of + disturbance, where could he find a man who would make his way successfully + overland to Cayta with a message, a ten days’ ride at least; a man of + courage and resolution, who would avoid arrest or murder, and if arrested + would faithfully eat the paper? The Capataz de Cargadores would have been + just such a man. But the Capataz of the Cargadores was no more. + </p> + <p> + And Charles Gould, withdrawing his eyes from the wall, said gently, “That + Hirsch! What an extraordinary thing! Saved himself by clinging to the + anchor, did he? I had no idea that he was still in Sulaco. I thought he + had gone back overland to Esmeralda more than a week ago. He came here + once to talk to me about his hide business and some other things. I made + it clear to him that nothing could be done.” + </p> + <p> + “He was afraid to start back on account of Hernandez being about,” + remarked the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “And but for him we might not have known anything of what has happened,” + marvelled Charles Gould. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould cried out— + </p> + <p> + “Antonia must not know! She must not be told. Not now.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody’s likely to carry the news,” remarked the doctor. “It’s no one’s + interest. Moreover, the people here are afraid of Hernandez as if he were + the devil.” He turned to Charles Gould. “It’s even awkward, because if you + wanted to communicate with the refugees you could find no messenger. When + Hernandez was ranging hundreds of miles away from here the Sulaco populace + used to shudder at the tales of him roasting his prisoners alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” murmured Charles Gould; “Captain Mitchell’s Capataz was the only + man in the town who had seen Hernandez eye to eye. Father Corbelan + employed him. He opened the communications first. It is a pity that—” + </p> + <p> + His voice was covered by the booming of the great bell of the cathedral. + Three single strokes, one after another, burst out explosively, dying away + in deep and mellow vibrations. And then all the bells in the tower of + every church, convent, or chapel in town, even those that had remained + shut up for years, pealed out together with a crash. In this furious flood + of metallic uproar there was a power of suggesting images of strife and + violence which blanched Mrs. Gould’s cheek. Basilio, who had been waiting + at table, shrinking within himself, clung to the sideboard with chattering + teeth. It was impossible to hear yourself speak. + </p> + <p> + “Shut these windows!” Charles Gould yelled at him, angrily. All the other + servants, terrified at what they took for the signal of a general + massacre, had rushed upstairs, tumbling over each other, men and women, + the obscure and generally invisible population of the ground floor on the + four sides of the patio. The women, screaming “Misericordia!” ran right + into the room, and, falling on their knees against the walls, began to + cross themselves convulsively. The staring heads of men blocked the + doorway in an instant—mozos from the stable, gardeners, nondescript + helpers living on the crumbs of the munificent house—and Charles + Gould beheld all the extent of his domestic establishment, even to the + gatekeeper. This was a half-paralyzed old man, whose long white locks fell + down to his shoulders: an heirloom taken up by Charles Gould’s familial + piety. He could remember Henry Gould, an Englishman and a Costaguanero of + the second generation, chief of the Sulaco province; he had been his + personal mozo years and years ago in peace and war; had been allowed to + attend his master in prison; had, on the fatal morning, followed the + firing squad; and, peeping from behind one of the cypresses growing along + the wall of the Franciscan Convent, had seen, with his eyes starting out + of his head, Don Enrique throw up his hands and fall with his face in the + dust. Charles Gould noted particularly the big patriarchal head of that + witness in the rear of the other servants. But he was surprised to see a + shrivelled old hag or two, of whose existence within the walls of his + house he had not been aware. They must have been the mothers, or even the + grandmothers of some of his people. There were a few children, too, more + or less naked, crying and clinging to the legs of their elders. He had + never before noticed any sign of a child in his patio. Even Leonarda, the + camerista, came in a fright, pushing through, with her spoiled, pouting + face of a favourite maid, leading the Viola girls by the hand. The + crockery rattled on table and sideboard, and the whole house seemed to + sway in the deafening wave of sound. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER FIVE + </h2> + <p> + During the night the expectant populace had taken possession of all the + belfries in the town in order to welcome Pedrito Montero, who was making + his entry after having slept the night in Rincon. And first came + straggling in through the land gate the armed mob of all colours, + complexions, types, and states of raggedness, calling themselves the + Sulaco National Guard, and commanded by Senor Gamacho. Through the middle + of the street streamed, like a torrent of rubbish, a mass of straw hats, + ponchos, gun-barrels, with an enormous green and yellow flag flapping in + their midst, in a cloud of dust, to the furious beating of drums. The + spectators recoiled against the walls of the houses shouting their Vivas! + Behind the rabble could be seen the lances of the cavalry, the “army” of + Pedro Montero. He advanced between Senores Fuentes and Gamacho at the head + of his llaneros, who had accomplished the feat of crossing the Paramos of + the Higuerota in a snow-storm. They rode four abreast, mounted on + confiscated Campo horses, clad in the heterogeneous stock of roadside + stores they had looted hurriedly in their rapid ride through the northern + part of the province; for Pedro Montero had been in a great hurry to + occupy Sulaco. The handkerchiefs knotted loosely around their bare throats + were glaringly new, and all the right sleeves of their cotton shirts had + been cut off close to the shoulder for greater freedom in throwing the + lazo. Emaciated greybeards rode by the side of lean dark youths, marked by + all the hardships of campaigning, with strips of raw beef twined round the + crowns of their hats, and huge iron spurs fastened to their naked heels. + Those that in the passes of the mountain had lost their lances had + provided themselves with the goads used by the Campo cattlemen: slender + shafts of palm fully ten feet long, with a lot of loose rings jingling + under the ironshod point. They were armed with knives and revolvers. A + haggard fearlessness characterized the expression of all these sun-blacked + countenances; they glared down haughtily with their scorched eyes at the + crowd, or, blinking upwards insolently, pointed out to each other some + particular head amongst the women at the windows. When they had ridden + into the Plaza and caught sight of the equestrian statue of the King + dazzlingly white in the sunshine, towering enormous and motionless above + the surges of the crowd, with its eternal gesture of saluting, a murmur of + surprise ran through their ranks. “What is that saint in the big hat?” + they asked each other. + </p> + <p> + They were a good sample of the cavalry of the plains with which Pedro + Montero had helped so much the victorious career of his brother the + general. The influence which that man, brought up in coast towns, acquired + in a short time over the plainsmen of the Republic can be ascribed only to + a genius for treachery of so effective a kind that it must have appeared + to those violent men but little removed from a state of utter savagery, as + the perfection of sagacity and virtue. The popular lore of all nations + testifies that duplicity and cunning, together with bodily strength, were + looked upon, even more than courage, as heroic virtues by primitive + mankind. To overcome your adversary was the great affair of life. Courage + was taken for granted. But the use of intelligence awakened wonder and + respect. Stratagems, providing they did not fail, were honourable; the + easy massacre of an unsuspecting enemy evoked no feelings but those of + gladness, pride, and admiration. Not perhaps that primitive men were more + faithless than their descendants of to-day, but that they went straighter + to their aim, and were more artless in their recognition of success as the + only standard of morality. + </p> + <p> + We have changed since. The use of intelligence awakens little wonder and + less respect. But the ignorant and barbarous plainsmen engaging in civil + strife followed willingly a leader who often managed to deliver their + enemies bound, as it were, into their hands. Pedro Montero had a talent + for lulling his adversaries into a sense of security. And as men learn + wisdom with extreme slowness, and are always ready to believe promises + that flatter their secret hopes, Pedro Montero was successful time after + time. Whether only a servant or some inferior official in the Costaguana + Legation in Paris, he had rushed back to his country directly he heard + that his brother had emerged from the obscurity of his frontier + commandancia. He had managed to deceive by his gift of plausibility the + chiefs of the Ribierist movement in the capital, and even the acute agent + of the San Tome mine had failed to understand him thoroughly. At once he + had obtained an enormous influence over his brother. They were very much + alike in appearance, both bald, with bunches of crisp hair above their + ears, arguing the presence of some negro blood. Only Pedro was smaller + than the general, more delicate altogether, with an ape-like faculty for + imitating all the outward signs of refinement and distinction, and with a + parrot-like talent for languages. Both brothers had received some + elementary instruction by the munificence of a great European traveller, + to whom their father had been a body-servant during his journeys in the + interior of the country. In General Montero’s case it enabled him to rise + from the ranks. Pedrito, the younger, incorrigibly lazy and slovenly, had + drifted aimlessly from one coast town to another, hanging about + counting-houses, attaching himself to strangers as a sort of + valet-de-place, picking up an easy and disreputable living. His ability to + read did nothing for him but fill his head with absurd visions. His + actions were usually determined by motives so improbable in themselves as + to escape the penetration of a rational person. + </p> + <p> + Thus at first sight the agent of the Gould Concession in Sta. Marta had + credited him with the possession of sane views, and even with a + restraining power over the general’s everlastingly discontented vanity. It + could never have entered his head that Pedrito Montero, lackey or inferior + scribe, lodged in the garrets of the various Parisian hotels where the + Costaguana Legation used to shelter its diplomatic dignity, had been + devouring the lighter sort of historical works in the French language, + such, for instance as the books of Imbert de Saint Amand upon the Second + Empire. But Pedrito had been struck by the splendour of a brilliant court, + and had conceived the idea of an existence for himself where, like the Duc + de Morny, he would associate the command of every pleasure with the + conduct of political affairs and enjoy power supremely in every way. + Nobody could have guessed that. And yet this was one of the immediate + causes of the Monterist Revolution. This will appear less incredible by + the reflection that the fundamental causes were the same as ever, rooted + in the political immaturity of the people, in the indolence of the upper + classes and the mental darkness of the lower. + </p> + <p> + Pedrito Montero saw in the elevation of his brother the road wide open to + his wildest imaginings. This was what made the Monterist pronunciamiento + so unpreventable. The general himself probably could have been bought off, + pacified with flatteries, despatched on a diplomatic mission to Europe. It + was his brother who had egged him on from first to last. He wanted to + become the most brilliant statesman of South America. He did not desire + supreme power. He would have been afraid of its labour and risk, in fact. + Before all, Pedrito Montero, taught by his European experience, meant to + acquire a serious fortune for himself. With this object in view he + obtained from his brother, on the very morrow of the successful battle, + the permission to push on over the mountains and take possession of + Sulaco. Sulaco was the land of future prosperity, the chosen land of + material progress, the only province in the Republic of interest to + European capitalists. Pedrito Montero, following the example of the Duc de + Morny, meant to have his share of this prosperity. This is what he meant + literally. Now his brother was master of the country, whether as + President, Dictator, or even as Emperor—why not as an Emperor?—he + meant to demand a share in every enterprise—in railways, in mines, + in sugar estates, in cotton mills, in land companies, in each and every + undertaking—as the price of his protection. The desire to be on the + spot early was the real cause of the celebrated ride over the mountains + with some two hundred llaneros, an enterprise of which the dangers had not + appeared at first clearly to his impatience. Coming from a series of + victories, it seemed to him that a Montero had only to appear to be master + of the situation. This illusion had betrayed him into a rashness of which + he was becoming aware. As he rode at the head of his llaneros he regretted + that there were so few of them. The enthusiasm of the populace reassured + him. They yelled “Viva Montero! Viva Pedrito!” In order to make them still + more enthusiastic, and from the natural pleasure he had in dissembling, he + dropped the reins on his horse’s neck, and with a tremendous effect of + familiarity and confidence slipped his hands under the arms of Senores + Fuentes and Gamacho. In that posture, with a ragged town mozo holding his + horse by the bridle, he rode triumphantly across the Plaza to the door of + the Intendencia. Its old gloomy walls seemed to shake in the acclamations + that rent the air and covered the crashing peals of the cathedral bells. + </p> + <p> + Pedro Montero, the brother of the general, dismounted into a shouting and + perspiring throng of enthusiasts whom the ragged Nationals were pushing + back fiercely. Ascending a few steps he surveyed the large crowd gaping at + him and the bullet-speckled walls of the houses opposite lightly veiled by + a sunny haze of dust. The word “<i>Pourvenir</i>” in immense black + capitals, alternating with broken windows, stared at him across the vast + space; and he thought with delight of the hour of vengeance, because he + was very sure of laying his hands upon Decoud. On his left hand, Gamacho, + big and hot, wiping his hairy wet face, uncovered a set of yellow fangs in + a grin of stupid hilarity. On his right, Senor Fuentes, small and lean, + looked on with compressed lips. The crowd stared literally open-mouthed, + lost in eager stillness, as though they had expected the great + guerrillero, the famous Pedrito, to begin scattering at once some sort of + visible largesse. What he began was a speech. He began it with the shouted + word “Citizens!” which reached even those in the middle of the Plaza. + Afterwards the greater part of the citizens remained fascinated by the + orator’s action alone, his tip-toeing, the arms flung above his head with + the fists clenched, a hand laid flat upon the heart, the silver gleam of + rolling eyes, the sweeping, pointing, embracing gestures, a hand laid + familiarly on Gamacho’s shoulder; a hand waved formally towards the little + black-coated person of Senor Fuentes, advocate and politician and a true + friend of the people. The vivas of those nearest to the orator bursting + out suddenly propagated themselves irregularly to the confines of the + crowd, like flames running over dry grass, and expired in the opening of + the streets. In the intervals, over the swarming Plaza brooded a heavy + silence, in which the mouth of the orator went on opening and shutting, + and detached phrases—“The happiness of the people,” “Sons of the + country,” “The entire world, el mundo entiero”—reached even the + packed steps of the cathedral with a feeble clear ring, thin as the + buzzing of a mosquito. But the orator struck his breast; he seemed to + prance between his two supporters. It was the supreme effort of his + peroration. Then the two smaller figures disappeared from the public gaze + and the enormous Gamacho, left alone, advanced, raising his hat high above + his head. Then he covered himself proudly and yelled out, “Ciudadanos!” A + dull roar greeted Senor Gamacho, ex-pedlar of the Campo, Commandante of + the National Guards. + </p> + <p> + Upstairs Pedrito Montero walked about rapidly from one wrecked room of the + Intendencia to another, snarling incessantly— + </p> + <p> + “What stupidity! What destruction!” + </p> + <p> + Senor Fuentes, following, would relax his taciturn disposition to murmur— + </p> + <p> + “It is all the work of Gamacho and his Nationals;” and then, inclining his + head on his left shoulder, would press together his lips so firmly that a + little hollow would appear at each corner. He had his nomination for + Political Chief of the town in his pocket, and was all impatience to enter + upon his functions. + </p> + <p> + In the long audience room, with its tall mirrors all starred by stones, + the hangings torn down and the canopy over the platform at the upper end + pulled to pieces, the vast, deep muttering of the crowd and the howling + voice of Gamacho speaking just below reached them through the shutters as + they stood idly in dimness and desolation. + </p> + <p> + “The brute!” observed his Excellency Don Pedro Montero through clenched + teeth. “We must contrive as quickly as possible to send him and his + Nationals out there to fight Hernandez.” + </p> + <p> + The new Gefe Politico only jerked his head sideways, and took a puff at + his cigarette in sign of his agreement with this method for ridding the + town of Gamacho and his inconvenient rabble. + </p> + <p> + Pedrito Montero looked with disgust at the absolutely bare floor, and at + the belt of heavy gilt picture-frames running round the room, out of which + the remnants of torn and slashed canvases fluttered like dingy rags. + </p> + <p> + “We are not barbarians,” he said. + </p> + <p> + This was what said his Excellency, the popular Pedrito, the guerrillero + skilled in the art of laying ambushes, charged by his brother at his own + demand with the organization of Sulaco on democratic principles. The night + before, during the consultation with his partisans, who had come out to + meet him in Rincon, he had opened his intentions to Senor Fuentes— + </p> + <p> + “We shall organize a popular vote, by yes or no, confiding the destinies + of our beloved country to the wisdom and valiance of my heroic brother, + the invincible general. A plebiscite. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + And Senor Fuentes, puffing out his leathery cheeks, had inclined his head + slightly to the left, letting a thin, bluish jet of smoke escape through + his pursed lips. He had understood. + </p> + <p> + His Excellency was exasperated at the devastation. Not a single chair, + table, sofa, etagere or console had been left in the state rooms of the + Intendencia. His Excellency, though twitching all over with rage, was + restrained from bursting into violence by a sense of his remoteness and + isolation. His heroic brother was very far away. Meantime, how was he + going to take his siesta? He had expected to find comfort and luxury in + the Intendencia after a year of hard camp life, ending with the hardships + and privations of the daring dash upon Sulaco—upon the province + which was worth more in wealth and influence than all the rest of the + Republic’s territory. He would get even with Gamacho by-and-by. And Senor + Gamacho’s oration, delectable to popular ears, went on in the heat and + glare of the Plaza like the uncouth howlings of an inferior sort of devil + cast into a white-hot furnace. Every moment he had to wipe his streaming + face with his bare fore-arm; he had flung off his coat, and had turned up + the sleeves of his shirt high above the elbows; but he kept on his head + the large cocked hat with white plumes. His ingenuousness cherished this + sign of his rank as Commandante of the National Guards. Approving and + grave murmurs greeted his periods. His opinion was that war should be + declared at once against France, England, Germany, and the United States, + who, by introducing railways, mining enterprises, colonization, and under + such other shallow pretences, aimed at robbing poor people of their lands, + and with the help of these Goths and paralytics, the aristocrats would + convert them into toiling and miserable slaves. And the leperos, flinging + about the corners of their dirty white mantas, yelled their approbation. + General Montero, Gamacho howled with conviction, was the only man equal to + the patriotic task. They assented to that, too. + </p> + <p> + The morning was wearing on; there were already signs of disruption, + currents and eddies in the crowd. Some were seeking the shade of the walls + and under the trees of the Alameda. Horsemen spurred through, shouting; + groups of sombreros set level on heads against the vertical sun were + drifting away into the streets, where the open doors of pulperias revealed + an enticing gloom resounding with the gentle tinkling of guitars. The + National Guards were thinking of siesta, and the eloquence of Gamacho, + their chief, was exhausted. Later on, when, in the cooler hours of the + afternoon, they tried to assemble again for further consideration of + public affairs, detachments of Montero’s cavalry camped on the Alameda + charged them without parley, at speed, with long lances levelled at their + flying backs as far as the ends of the streets. The National Guards of + Sulaco were surprised by this proceeding. But they were not indignant. No + Costaguanero had ever learned to question the eccentricities of a military + force. They were part of the natural order of things. This must be, they + concluded, some kind of administrative measure, no doubt. But the motive + of it escaped their unaided intelligence, and their chief and orator, + Gamacho, Commandante of the National Guard, was lying drunk and asleep in + the bosom of his family. His bare feet were upturned in the shadows + repulsively, in the manner of a corpse. His eloquent mouth had dropped + open. His youngest daughter, scratching her head with one hand, with the + other waved a green bough over his scorched and peeling face. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER SIX + </h2> + <p> + The declining sun had shifted the shadows from west to east amongst the + houses of the town. It had shifted them upon the whole extent of the + immense Campo, with the white walls of its haciendas on the knolls + dominating the green distances; with its grass-thatched ranches crouching + in the folds of ground by the banks of streams; with the dark islands of + clustered trees on a clear sea of grass, and the precipitous range of the + Cordillera, immense and motionless, emerging from the billows of the lower + forests like the barren coast of a land of giants. The sunset rays + striking the snow-slope of Higuerota from afar gave it an air of rosy + youth, while the serrated mass of distant peaks remained black, as if + calcined in the fiery radiance. The undulating surface of the forests + seemed powdered with pale gold dust; and away there, beyond Rincon, hidden + from the town by two wooded spurs, the rocks of the San Tome gorge, with + the flat wall of the mountain itself crowned by gigantic ferns, took on + warm tones of brown and yellow, with red rusty streaks, and the dark green + clumps of bushes rooted in crevices. From the plain the stamp sheds and + the houses of the mine appeared dark and small, high up, like the nests of + birds clustered on the ledges of a cliff. The zigzag paths resembled faint + tracings scratched on the wall of a cyclopean blockhouse. To the two + serenos of the mine on patrol duty, strolling, carbine in hand, and + watchful eyes, in the shade of the trees lining the stream near the + bridge, Don Pepe, descending the path from the upper plateau, appeared no + bigger than a large beetle. + </p> + <p> + With his air of aimless, insect-like going to and fro upon the face of the + rock, Don Pepe’s figure kept on descending steadily, and, when near the + bottom, sank at last behind the roofs of store-houses, forges, and + workshops. For a time the pair of serenos strolled back and forth before + the bridge, on which they had stopped a horseman holding a large white + envelope in his hand. Then Don Pepe, emerging in the village street from + amongst the houses, not a stone’s throw from the frontier bridge, + approached, striding in wide dark trousers tucked into boots, a white + linen jacket, sabre at his side, and revolver at his belt. In this + disturbed time nothing could find the Senor Gobernador with his boots off, + as the saying is. + </p> + <p> + At a slight nod from one of the serenos, the man, a messenger from the + town, dismounted, and crossed the bridge, leading his horse by the bridle. + </p> + <p> + Don Pepe received the letter from his other hand, slapped his left side + and his hips in succession, feeling for his spectacle case. After settling + the heavy silvermounted affair astride his nose, and adjusting it + carefully behind his ears, he opened the envelope, holding it up at about + a foot in front of his eyes. The paper he pulled out contained some three + lines of writing. He looked at them for a long time. His grey moustache + moved slightly up and down, and the wrinkles, radiating at the corners of + his eyes, ran together. He nodded serenely. “Bueno,” he said. “There is no + answer.” + </p> + <p> + Then, in his quiet, kindly way, he engaged in a cautious conversation with + the man, who was willing to talk cheerily, as if something lucky had + happened to him recently. He had seen from a distance Sotillo’s infantry + camped along the shore of the harbour on each side of the Custom House. + They had done no damage to the buildings. The foreigners of the railway + remained shut up within the yards. They were no longer anxious to shoot + poor people. He cursed the foreigners; then he reported Montero’s entry + and the rumours of the town. The poor were going to be made rich now. That + was very good. More he did not know, and, breaking into propitiatory + smiles, he intimated that he was hungry and thirsty. The old major + directed him to go to the alcalde of the first village. The man rode off, + and Don Pepe, striding slowly in the direction of a little wooden belfry, + looked over a hedge into a little garden, and saw Father Roman sitting in + a white hammock slung between two orange trees in front of the presbytery. + </p> + <p> + An enormous tamarind shaded with its dark foliage the whole white + framehouse. A young Indian girl with long hair, big eyes, and small hands + and feet, carried out a wooden chair, while a thin old woman, crabbed and + vigilant, watched her all the time from the verandah. + </p> + <p> + Don Pepe sat down in the chair and lighted a cigar; the priest drew in an + immense quantity of snuff out of the hollow of his palm. On his + reddish-brown face, worn, hollowed as if crumbled, the eyes, fresh and + candid, sparkled like two black diamonds. + </p> + <p> + Don Pepe, in a mild and humorous voice, informed Father Roman that Pedrito + Montero, by the hand of Senor Fuentes, had asked him on what terms he + would surrender the mine in proper working order to a legally constituted + commission of patriotic citizens, escorted by a small military force. The + priest cast his eyes up to heaven. However, Don Pepe continued, the mozo + who brought the letter said that Don Carlos Gould was alive, and so far + unmolested. + </p> + <p> + Father Roman expressed in a few words his thankfulness at hearing of the + Senor Administrador’s safety. + </p> + <p> + The hour of oration had gone by in the silvery ringing of a bell in the + little belfry. The belt of forest closing the entrance of the valley stood + like a screen between the low sun and the street of the village. At the + other end of the rocky gorge, between the walls of basalt and granite, a + forest-clad mountain, hiding all the range from the San Tome dwellers, + rose steeply, lighted up and leafy to the very top. Three small rosy + clouds hung motionless overhead in the great depth of blue. Knots of + people sat in the street between the wattled huts. Before the casa of the + alcalde, the foremen of the night-shift, already assembled to lead their + men, squatted on the ground in a circle of leather skull-caps, and, bowing + their bronze backs, were passing round the gourd of mate. The mozo from + the town, having fastened his horse to a wooden post before the door, was + telling them the news of Sulaco as the blackened gourd of the decoction + passed from hand to hand. The grave alcalde himself, in a white waistcloth + and a flowered chintz gown with sleeves, open wide upon his naked stout + person with an effect of a gaudy bathing robe, stood by, wearing a rough + beaver hat at the back of his head, and grasping a tall staff with a + silver knob in his hand. These insignia of his dignity had been conferred + upon him by the Administration of the mine, the fountain of honour, of + prosperity, and peace. He had been one of the first immigrants into this + valley; his sons and sons-in-law worked within the mountain which seemed + with its treasures to pour down the thundering ore shoots of the upper + mesa, the gifts of well-being, security, and justice upon the toilers. He + listened to the news from the town with curiosity and indifference, as if + concerning another world than his own. And it was true that they appeared + to him so. In a very few years the sense of belonging to a powerful + organization had been developed in these harassed, half-wild Indians. They + were proud of, and attached to, the mine. It had secured their confidence + and belief. They invested it with a protecting and invincible virtue as + though it were a fetish made by their own hands, for they were ignorant, + and in other respects did not differ appreciably from the rest of mankind + which puts infinite trust in its own creations. It never entered the + alcalde’s head that the mine could fail in its protection and force. + Politics were good enough for the people of the town and the Campo. His + yellow, round face, with wide nostrils, and motionless in expression, + resembled a fierce full moon. He listened to the excited vapourings of the + mozo without misgivings, without surprise, without any active sentiment + whatever. + </p> + <p> + Padre Roman sat dejectedly balancing himself, his feet just touching the + ground, his hands gripping the edge of the hammock. With less confidence, + but as ignorant as his flock, he asked the major what did he think was + going to happen now. + </p> + <p> + Don Pepe, bolt upright in the chair, folded his hands peacefully on the + hilt of his sword, standing perpendicular between his thighs, and answered + that he did not know. The mine could be defended against any force likely + to be sent to take possession. On the other hand, from the arid character + of the valley, when the regular supplies from the Campo had been cut off, + the population of the three villages could be starved into submission. Don + Pepe exposed these contingencies with serenity to Father Roman, who, as an + old campaigner, was able to understand the reasoning of a military man. + They talked with simplicity and directness. Father Roman was saddened at + the idea of his flock being scattered or else enslaved. He had no + illusions as to their fate, not from penetration, but from long experience + of political atrocities, which seemed to him fatal and unavoidable in the + life of a State. The working of the usual public institutions presented + itself to him most distinctly as a series of calamities overtaking private + individuals and flowing logically from each other through hate, revenge, + folly, and rapacity, as though they had been part of a divine + dispensation. Father Roman’s clear-sightedness was served by an uninformed + intelligence; but his heart, preserving its tenderness amongst scenes of + carnage, spoliation, and violence, abhorred these calamities the more as + his association with the victims was closer. He entertained towards the + Indians of the valley feelings of paternal scorn. He had been marrying, + baptizing, confessing, absolving, and burying the workers of the San Tome + mine with dignity and unction for five years or more; and he believed in + the sacredness of these ministrations, which made them his own in a + spiritual sense. They were dear to his sacerdotal supremacy. Mrs. Gould’s + earnest interest in the concerns of these people enhanced their importance + in the priest’s eyes, because it really augmented his own. When talking + over with her the innumerable Marias and Brigidas of the villages, he felt + his own humanity expand. Padre Roman was incapable of fanaticism to an + almost reprehensible degree. The English senora was evidently a heretic; + but at the same time she seemed to him wonderful and angelic. Whenever + that confused state of his feelings occurred to him, while strolling, for + instance, his breviary under his arm, in the wide shade of the tamarind, + he would stop short to inhale with a strong snuffling noise a large + quantity of snuff, and shake his head profoundly. At the thought of what + might befall the illustrious senora presently, he became gradually + overcome with dismay. He voiced it in an agitated murmur. Even Don Pepe + lost his serenity for a moment. He leaned forward stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Padre. The very fact that those thieving macaques in Sulaco are + trying to find out the price of my honour proves that Senor Don Carlos and + all in the Casa Gould are safe. As to my honour, that also is safe, as + every man, woman, and child knows. But the negro Liberals who have + snatched the town by surprise do not know that. Bueno. Let them sit and + wait. While they wait they can do no harm.” + </p> + <p> + And he regained his composure. He regained it easily, because whatever + happened his honour of an old officer of Paez was safe. He had promised + Charles Gould that at the approach of an armed force he would defend the + gorge just long enough to give himself time to destroy scientifically the + whole plant, buildings, and workshops of the mine with heavy charges of + dynamite; block with ruins the main tunnel, break down the pathways, blow + up the dam of the water-power, shatter the famous Gould Concession into + fragments, flying sky high out of a horrified world. The mine had got hold + of Charles Gould with a grip as deadly as ever it had laid upon his + father. But this extreme resolution had seemed to Don Pepe the most + natural thing in the world. His measures had been taken with judgment. + Everything was prepared with a careful completeness. And Don Pepe folded + his hands pacifically on his sword hilt, and nodded at the priest. In his + excitement, Father Roman had flung snuff in handfuls at his face, and, all + besmeared with tobacco, round-eyed, and beside himself, had got out of the + hammock to walk about, uttering exclamations. + </p> + <p> + Don Pepe stroked his grey and pendant moustache, whose fine ends hung far + below the clean-cut line of his jaw, and spoke with a conscious pride in + his reputation. + </p> + <p> + “So, Padre, I don’t know what will happen. But I know that as long as I am + here Don Carlos can speak to that macaque, Pedrito Montero, and threaten + the destruction of the mine with perfect assurance that he will be taken + seriously. For people know me.” + </p> + <p> + He began to turn the cigar in his lips a little nervously, and went on— + </p> + <p> + “But that is talk—good for the politicos. I am a military man. I do + not know what may happen. But I know what ought to be done—the mine + should march upon the town with guns, axes, knives tied up to sticks—por + Dios. That is what should be done. Only—” + </p> + <p> + His folded hands twitched on the hilt. The cigar turned faster in the + corner of his lips. + </p> + <p> + “And who should lead but I? Unfortunately—observe—I have given + my word of honour to Don Carlos not to let the mine fall into the hands of + these thieves. In war—you know this, Padre—the fate of battles + is uncertain, and whom could I leave here to act for me in case of defeat? + The explosives are ready. But it would require a man of high honour, of + intelligence, of judgment, of courage, to carry out the prepared + destruction. Somebody I can trust with my honour as I can trust myself. + Another old officer of Paez, for instance. Or—or—perhaps one + of Paez’s old chaplains would do.” + </p> + <p> + He got up, long, lank, upright, hard, with his martial moustache and the + bony structure of his face, from which the glance of the sunken eyes + seemed to transfix the priest, who stood still, an empty wooden snuff-box + held upside down in his hand, and glared back, speechless, at the governor + of the mine. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER SEVEN + </h2> + <p> + At about that time, in the Intendencia of Sulaco, Charles Gould was + assuring Pedrito Montero, who had sent a request for his presence there, + that he would never let the mine pass out of his hands for the profit of a + Government who had robbed him of it. The Gould Concession could not be + resumed. His father had not desired it. The son would never surrender it. + He would never surrender it alive. And once dead, where was the power + capable of resuscitating such an enterprise in all its vigour and wealth + out of the ashes and ruin of destruction? There was no such power in the + country. And where was the skill and capital abroad that would condescend + to touch such an ill-omened corpse? Charles Gould talked in the impassive + tone which had for many years served to conceal his anger and contempt. He + suffered. He was disgusted with what he had to say. It was too much like + heroics. In him the strictly practical instinct was in profound discord + with the almost mystic view he took of his right. The Gould Concession was + symbolic of abstract justice. Let the heavens fall. But since the San Tome + mine had developed into world-wide fame his threat had enough force and + effectiveness to reach the rudimentary intelligence of Pedro Montero, + wrapped up as it was in the futilities of historical anecdotes. The Gould + Concession was a serious asset in the country’s finance, and, what was + more, in the private budgets of many officials as well. It was + traditional. It was known. It was said. It was credible. Every Minister of + Interior drew a salary from the San Tome mine. It was natural. And Pedrito + intended to be Minister of the Interior and President of the Council in + his brother’s Government. The Duc de Morny had occupied those high posts + during the Second French Empire with conspicuous advantage to himself. + </p> + <p> + A table, a chair, a wooden bedstead had been procured for His Excellency, + who, after a short siesta, rendered absolutely necessary by the labours + and the pomps of his entry into Sulaco, had been getting hold of the + administrative machine by making appointments, giving orders, and signing + proclamations. Alone with Charles Gould in the audience room, His + Excellency managed with his well-known skill to conceal his annoyance and + consternation. He had begun at first to talk loftily of confiscation, but + the want of all proper feeling and mobility in the Senor Administrador’s + features ended by affecting adversely his power of masterful expression. + Charles Gould had repeated: “The Government can certainly bring about the + destruction of the San Tome mine if it likes; but without me it can do + nothing else.” It was an alarming pronouncement, and well calculated to + hurt the sensibilities of a politician whose mind is bent upon the spoils + of victory. And Charles Gould said also that the destruction of the San + Tome mine would cause the ruin of other undertakings, the withdrawal of + European capital, the withholding, most probably, of the last instalment + of the foreign loan. That stony fiend of a man said all these things + (which were accessible to His Excellency’s intelligence) in a coldblooded + manner which made one shudder. + </p> + <p> + A long course of reading historical works, light and gossipy in tone, + carried out in garrets of Parisian hotels, sprawling on an untidy bed, to + the neglect of his duties, menial or otherwise, had affected the manners + of Pedro Montero. Had he seen around him the splendour of the old + Intendencia, the magnificent hangings, the gilt furniture ranged along the + walls; had he stood upon a dais on a noble square of red carpet, he would + have probably been very dangerous from a sense of success and elevation. + But in this sacked and devastated residence, with the three pieces of + common furniture huddled up in the middle of the vast apartment, Pedrito’s + imagination was subdued by a feeling of insecurity and impermanence. That + feeling and the firm attitude of Charles Gould who had not once, so far, + pronounced the word “Excellency,” diminished him in his own eyes. He + assumed the tone of an enlightened man of the world, and begged Charles + Gould to dismiss from his mind every cause for alarm. He was now + conversing, he reminded him, with the brother of the master of the + country, charged with a reorganizing mission. The trusted brother of the + master of the country, he repeated. Nothing was further from the thoughts + of that wise and patriotic hero than ideas of destruction. “I entreat you, + Don Carlos, not to give way to your anti-democratic prejudices,” he cried, + in a burst of condescending effusion. + </p> + <p> + Pedrito Montero surprised one at first sight by the vast development of + his bald forehead, a shiny yellow expanse between the crinkly coal-black + tufts of hair without any lustre, the engaging form of his mouth, and an + unexpectedly cultivated voice. But his eyes, very glistening as if freshly + painted on each side of his hooked nose, had a round, hopeless, birdlike + stare when opened fully. Now, however, he narrowed them agreeably, + throwing his square chin up and speaking with closed teeth slightly + through the nose, with what he imagined to be the manner of a grand + seigneur. + </p> + <p> + In that attitude, he declared suddenly that the highest expression of + democracy was Caesarism: the imperial rule based upon the direct popular + vote. Caesarism was conservative. It was strong. It recognized the + legitimate needs of democracy which requires orders, titles, and + distinctions. They would be showered upon deserving men. Caesarism was + peace. It was progressive. It secured the prosperity of a country. Pedrito + Montero was carried away. Look at what the Second Empire had done for + France. It was a regime which delighted to honour men of Don Carlos’s + stamp. The Second Empire fell, but that was because its chief was devoid + of that military genius which had raised General Montero to the pinnacle + of fame and glory. Pedrito elevated his hand jerkily to help the idea of + pinnacle, of fame. “We shall have many talks yet. We shall understand each + other thoroughly, Don Carlos!” he cried in a tone of fellowship. + Republicanism had done its work. Imperial democracy was the power of the + future. Pedrito, the guerrillero, showing his hand, lowered his voice + forcibly. A man singled out by his fellow-citizens for the honourable + nickname of El Rey de Sulaco could not but receive a full recognition from + an imperial democracy as a great captain of industry and a person of + weighty counsel, whose popular designation would be soon replaced by a + more solid title. “Eh, Don Carlos? No! What do you say? Conde de Sulaco—Eh?—or + marquis . . .” + </p> + <p> + He ceased. The air was cool on the Plaza, where a patrol of cavalry rode + round and round without penetrating into the streets, which resounded with + shouts and the strumming of guitars issuing from the open doors of + pulperias. The orders were not to interfere with the enjoyments of the + people. And above the roofs, next to the perpendicular lines of the + cathedral towers the snowy curve of Higuerota blocked a large space of + darkening blue sky before the windows of the Intendencia. After a time + Pedrito Montero, thrusting his hand in the bosom of his coat, bowed his + head with slow dignity. The audience was over. + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould on going out passed his hand over his forehead as if to + disperse the mists of an oppressive dream, whose grotesque extravagance + leaves behind a subtle sense of bodily danger and intellectual decay. In + the passages and on the staircases of the old palace Montero’s troopers + lounged about insolently, smoking and making way for no one; the clanking + of sabres and spurs resounded all over the building. Three silent groups + of civilians in severe black waited in the main gallery, formal and + helpless, a little huddled up, each keeping apart from the others, as if + in the exercise of a public duty they had been overcome by a desire to + shun the notice of every eye. These were the deputations waiting for their + audience. The one from the Provincial Assembly, more restless and uneasy + in its corporate expression, was overtopped by the big face of Don Juste + Lopez, soft and white, with prominent eyelids and wreathed in impenetrable + solemnity as if in a dense cloud. The President of the Provincial + Assembly, coming bravely to save the last shred of parliamentary + institutions (on the English model), averted his eyes from the + Administrador of the San Tome mine as a dignified rebuke of his little + faith in that only saving principle. + </p> + <p> + The mournful severity of that reproof did not affect Charles Gould, but he + was sensible to the glances of the others directed upon him without + reproach, as if only to read their own fate upon his face. All of them had + talked, shouted, and declaimed in the great sala of the Casa Gould. The + feeling of compassion for those men, struck with a strange impotence in + the toils of moral degradation, did not induce him to make a sign. He + suffered from his fellowship in evil with them too much. He crossed the + Plaza unmolested. The Amarilla Club was full of festive ragamuffins. Their + frowsy heads protruded from every window, and from within came drunken + shouts, the thumping of feet, and the twanging of harps. Broken bottles + strewed the pavement below. Charles Gould found the doctor still in his + house. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham came away from the crack in the shutter through which he had + been watching the street. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You are back at last!” he said in a tone of relief. “I have been + telling Mrs. Gould that you were perfectly safe, but I was not by any + means certain that the fellow would have let you go.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither was I,” confessed Charles Gould, laying his hat on the table. + </p> + <p> + “You will have to take action.” + </p> + <p> + The silence of Charles Gould seemed to admit that this was the only + course. This was as far as Charles Gould was accustomed to go towards + expressing his intentions. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you did not warn Montero of what you mean to do,” the doctor said, + anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I tried to make him see that the existence of the mine was bound up with + my personal safety,” continued Charles Gould, looking away from the + doctor, and fixing his eyes upon the water-colour sketch upon the wall. + </p> + <p> + “He believed you?” the doctor asked, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “God knows!” said Charles Gould. “I owed it to my wife to say that much. + He is well enough informed. He knows that I have Don Pepe there. Fuentes + must have told him. They know that the old major is perfectly capable of + blowing up the San Tome mine without hesitation or compunction. Had it not + been for that I don’t think I’d have left the Intendencia a free man. He + would blow everything up from loyalty and from hate—from hate of + these Liberals, as they call themselves. Liberals! The words one knows so + well have a nightmarish meaning in this country. Liberty, democracy, + patriotism, government—all of them have a flavour of folly and + murder. Haven’t they, doctor? . . . I alone can restrain Don Pepe. If they + were to—to do away with me, nothing could prevent him.” + </p> + <p> + “They will try to tamper with him,” the doctor suggested, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “It is very possible,” Charles Gould said very low, as if speaking to + himself, and still gazing at the sketch of the San Tome gorge upon the + wall. “Yes, I expect they will try that.” Charles Gould looked for the + first time at the doctor. “It would give me time,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Dr. Monygham, suppressing his excitement. “Especially if + Don Pepe behaves diplomatically. Why shouldn’t he give them some hope of + success? Eh? Otherwise you wouldn’t gain so much time. Couldn’t he be + instructed to—” + </p> + <p> + Charles Gould, looking at the doctor steadily, shook his head, but the + doctor continued with a certain amount of fire— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to enter into negotiations for the surrender of the mine. It is a + good notion. You would mature your plan. Of course, I don’t ask what it + is. I don’t want to know. I would refuse to listen to you if you tried to + tell me. I am not fit for confidences.” + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense!” muttered Charles Gould, with displeasure. + </p> + <p> + He disapproved of the doctor’s sensitiveness about that far-off episode of + his life. So much memory shocked Charles Gould. It was like morbidness. + And again he shook his head. He refused to tamper with the open rectitude + of Don Pepe’s conduct, both from taste and from policy. Instructions would + have to be either verbal or in writing. In either case they ran the risk + of being intercepted. It was by no means certain that a messenger could + reach the mine; and, besides, there was no one to send. It was on the tip + of Charles’s tongue to say that only the late Capataz de Cargadores could + have been employed with some chance of success and the certitude of + discretion. But he did not say that. He pointed out to the doctor that it + would have been bad policy. Directly Don Pepe let it be supposed that he + could be bought over, the Administrador’s personal safety and the safety + of his friends would become endangered. For there would be then no reason + for moderation. The incorruptibility of Don Pepe was the essential and + restraining fact. The doctor hung his head and admitted that in a way it + was so. + </p> + <p> + He couldn’t deny to himself that the reasoning was sound enough. Don + Pepe’s usefulness consisted in his unstained character. As to his own + usefulness, he reflected bitterly it was also his own character. He + declared to Charles Gould that he had the means of keeping Sotillo from + joining his forces with Montero, at least for the present. + </p> + <p> + “If you had had all this silver here,” the doctor said, “or even if it had + been known to be at the mine, you could have bribed Sotillo to throw off + his recent Monterism. You could have induced him either to go away in his + steamer or even to join you.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not that last,” Charles Gould declared, firmly. “What could one + do with a man like that, afterwards—tell me, doctor? The silver is + gone, and I am glad of it. It would have been an immediate and strong + temptation. The scramble for that visible plunder would have precipitated + a disastrous ending. I would have had to defend it, too. I am glad we’ve + removed it—even if it is lost. It would have been a danger and a + curse.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he is right,” the doctor, an hour later, said hurriedly to Mrs. + Gould, whom he met in the corridor. “The thing is done, and the shadow of + the treasure may do just as well as the substance. Let me try to serve you + to the whole extent of my evil reputation. I am off now to play my game of + betrayal with Sotillo, and keep him off the town.” + </p> + <p> + She put out both her hands impulsively. “Dr. Monygham, you are running a + terrible risk,” she whispered, averting from his face her eyes, full of + tears, for a short glance at the door of her husband’s room. She pressed + both his hands, and the doctor stood as if rooted to the spot, looking + down at her, and trying to twist his lips into a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know you will defend my memory,” he uttered at last, and ran + tottering down the stairs across the patio, and out of the house. In the + street he kept up a great pace with his smart hobbling walk, a case of + instruments under his arm. He was known for being loco. Nobody interfered + with him. From under the seaward gate, across the dusty, arid plain, + interspersed with low bushes, he saw, more than a mile away, the ugly + enormity of the Custom House, and the two or three other buildings which + at that time constituted the seaport of Sulaco. Far away to the south + groves of palm trees edged the curve of the harbour shore. The distant + peaks of the Cordillera had lost their identity of clearcut shapes in the + steadily deepening blue of the eastern sky. The doctor walked briskly. A + darkling shadow seemed to fall upon him from the zenith. The sun had set. + For a time the snows of Higuerota continued to glow with the reflected + glory of the west. The doctor, holding a straight course for the Custom + House, appeared lonely, hopping amongst the dark bushes like a tall bird + with a broken wing. + </p> + <p> + Tints of purple, gold, and crimson were mirrored in the clear water of the + harbour. A long tongue of land, straight as a wall, with the grass-grown + ruins of the fort making a sort of rounded green mound, plainly visible + from the inner shore, closed its circuit; while beyond the Placid Gulf + repeated those splendours of colouring on a greater scale and with a more + sombre magnificence. The great mass of cloud filling the head of the gulf + had long red smears amongst its convoluted folds of grey and black, as of + a floating mantle stained with blood. The three Isabels, overshadowed and + clear cut in a great smoothness confounding the sea and sky, appeared + suspended, purple-black, in the air. The little wavelets seemed to be + tossing tiny red sparks upon the sandy beaches. The glassy bands of water + along the horizon gave out a fiery red glow, as if fire and water had been + mingled together in the vast bed of the ocean. + </p> + <p> + At last the conflagration of sea and sky, lying embraced and still in a + flaming contact upon the edge of the world, went out. The red sparks in + the water vanished together with the stains of blood in the black mantle + draping the sombre head of the Placid Gulf; a sudden breeze sprang up and + died out after rustling heavily the growth of bushes on the ruined + earthwork of the fort. Nostromo woke up from a fourteen hours’ sleep, and + arose full length from his lair in the long grass. He stood knee deep + amongst the whispering undulations of the green blades with the lost air + of a man just born into the world. Handsome, robust, and supple, he threw + back his head, flung his arms open, and stretched himself with a slow + twist of the waist and a leisurely growling yawn of white teeth, as + natural and free from evil in the moment of waking as a magnificent and + unconscious wild beast. Then, in the suddenly steadied glance fixed upon + nothing from under a thoughtful frown, appeared the man. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER EIGHT + </h2> + <p> + After landing from his swim Nostromo had scrambled up, all dripping, into + the main quadrangle of the old fort; and there, amongst ruined bits of + walls and rotting remnants of roofs and sheds, he had slept the day + through. He had slept in the shadow of the mountains, in the white blaze + of noon, in the stillness and solitude of that overgrown piece of land + between the oval of the harbour and the spacious semi-circle of the gulf. + He lay as if dead. A rey-zamuro, appearing like a tiny black speck in the + blue, stooped, circling prudently with a stealthiness of flight startling + in a bird of that great size. The shadow of his pearly-white body, of his + black-tipped wings, fell on the grass no more silently than he alighted + himself on a hillock of rubbish within three yards of that man, lying as + still as a corpse. The bird stretched his bare neck, craned his bald head, + loathsome in the brilliance of varied colouring, with an air of voracious + anxiety towards the promising stillness of that prostrate body. Then, + sinking his head deeply into his soft plumage, he settled himself to wait. + The first thing upon which Nostromo’s eyes fell on waking was this patient + watcher for the signs of death and corruption. When the man got up the + vulture hopped away in great, side-long, fluttering jumps. He lingered for + a while, morose and reluctant, before he rose, circling noiselessly with a + sinister droop of beak and claws. + </p> + <p> + Long after he had vanished, Nostromo, lifting his eyes up to the sky, + muttered, “I am not dead yet.” + </p> + <p> + The Capataz of the Sulaco Cargadores had lived in splendour and publicity + up to the very moment, as it were, when he took charge of the lighter + containing the treasure of silver ingots. + </p> + <p> + The last act he had performed in Sulaco was in complete harmony with his + vanity, and as such perfectly genuine. He had given his last dollar to an + old woman moaning with the grief and fatigue of a dismal search under the + arch of the ancient gate. Performed in obscurity and without witnesses, it + had still the characteristics of splendour and publicity, and was in + strict keeping with his reputation. But this awakening in solitude, except + for the watchful vulture, amongst the ruins of the fort, had no such + characteristics. His first confused feeling was exactly this—that it + was not in keeping. It was more like the end of things. The necessity of + living concealed somehow, for God knows how long, which assailed him on + his return to consciousness, made everything that had gone before for + years appear vain and foolish, like a flattering dream come suddenly to an + end. + </p> + <p> + He climbed the crumbling slope of the rampart, and, putting aside the + bushes, looked upon the harbour. He saw a couple of ships at anchor upon + the sheet of water reflecting the last gleams of light, and Sotillo’s + steamer moored to the jetty. And behind the pale long front of the Custom + House, there appeared the extent of the town like a grove of thick timber + on the plain with a gateway in front, and the cupolas, towers, and + miradors rising above the trees, all dark, as if surrendered already to + the night. The thought that it was no longer open to him to ride through + the streets, recognized by everyone, great and little, as he used to do + every evening on his way to play monte in the posada of the Mexican + Domingo; or to sit in the place of honour, listening to songs and looking + at dances, made it appear to him as a town that had no existence. + </p> + <p> + For a long time he gazed on, then let the parted bushes spring back, and, + crossing over to the other side of the fort, surveyed the vaster emptiness + of the great gulf. The Isabels stood out heavily upon the narrowing long + band of red in the west, which gleamed low between their black shapes, and + the Capataz thought of Decoud alone there with the treasure. That man was + the only one who cared whether he fell into the hands of the Monterists or + not, the Capataz reflected bitterly. And that merely would be an anxiety + for his own sake. As to the rest, they neither knew nor cared. What he had + heard Giorgio Viola say once was very true. Kings, ministers, aristocrats, + the rich in general, kept the people in poverty and subjection; they kept + them as they kept dogs, to fight and hunt for their service. + </p> + <p> + The darkness of the sky had descended to the line of the horizon, + enveloping the whole gulf, the islets, and the lover of Antonia alone with + the treasure on the Great Isabel. The Capataz, turning his back on these + things invisible and existing, sat down and took his face between his + fists. He felt the pinch of poverty for the first time in his life. To + find himself without money after a run of bad luck at monte in the low, + smoky room of Domingo’s posada, where the fraternity of Cargadores + gambled, sang, and danced of an evening; to remain with empty pockets + after a burst of public generosity to some peyne d’oro girl or other (for + whom he did not care), had none of the humiliation of destitution. He + remained rich in glory and reputation. But since it was no longer possible + for him to parade the streets of the town, and be hailed with respect in + the usual haunts of his leisure, this sailor felt himself destitute + indeed. + </p> + <p> + His mouth was dry. It was dry with heavy sleep and extremely anxious + thinking, as it had never been dry before. It may be said that Nostromo + tasted the dust and ashes of the fruit of life into which he had bitten + deeply in his hunger for praise. Without removing his head from between + his fists, he tried to spit before him—“Tfui”—and muttered a + curse upon the selfishness of all the rich people. + </p> + <p> + Since everything seemed lost in Sulaco (and that was the feeling of his + waking), the idea of leaving the country altogether had presented itself + to Nostromo. At that thought he had seen, like the beginning of another + dream, a vision of steep and tideless shores, with dark pines on the + heights and white houses low down near a very blue sea. He saw the quays + of a big port, where the coasting feluccas, with their lateen sails + outspread like motionless wings, enter gliding silently between the end of + long moles of squared blocks that project angularly towards each other, + hugging a cluster of shipping to the superb bosom of a hill covered with + palaces. He remembered these sights not without some filial emotion, + though he had been habitually and severely beaten as a boy on one of these + feluccas by a short-necked, shaven Genoese, with a deliberate and + distrustful manner, who (he firmly believed) had cheated him out of his + orphan’s inheritance. But it is mercifully decreed that the evils of the + past should appear but faintly in retrospect. Under the sense of + loneliness, abandonment, and failure, the idea of return to these things + appeared tolerable. But, what? Return? With bare feet and head, with one + check shirt and a pair of cotton calzoneros for all worldly possessions? + </p> + <p> + The renowned Capataz, his elbows on his knees and a fist dug into each + cheek, laughed with self-derision, as he had spat with disgust, straight + out before him into the night. The confused and intimate impressions of + universal dissolution which beset a subjective nature at any strong check + to its ruling passion had a bitterness approaching that of death itself. + He was simple. He was as ready to become the prey of any belief, + superstition, or desire as a child. + </p> + <p> + The facts of his situation he could appreciate like a man with a distinct + experience of the country. He saw them clearly. He was as if sobered after + a long bout of intoxication. His fidelity had been taken advantage of. He + had persuaded the body of Cargadores to side with the Blancos against the + rest of the people; he had had interviews with Don Jose; he had been made + use of by Father Corbelan for negotiating with Hernandez; it was known + that Don Martin Decoud had admitted him to a sort of intimacy, so that he + had been free of the offices of the Porvenir. All these things had + flattered him in the usual way. What did he care about their politics? + Nothing at all. And at the end of it all—Nostromo here and Nostromo + there—where is Nostromo? Nostromo can do this and that—work + all day and ride all night—behold! he found himself a marked + Ribierist for any sort of vengeance Gamacho, for instance, would choose to + take, now the Montero party, had, after all, mastered the town. The + Europeans had given up; the Caballeros had given up. Don Martin had indeed + explained it was only temporary—that he was going to bring Barrios + to the rescue. Where was that now—with Don Martin (whose ironic + manner of talk had always made the Capataz feel vaguely uneasy) stranded + on the Great Isabel? Everybody had given up. Even Don Carlos had given up. + The hurried removal of the treasure out to sea meant nothing else than + that. The Capataz de Cargadores, on a revulsion of subjectiveness, + exasperated almost to insanity, beheld all his world without faith and + courage. He had been betrayed! + </p> + <p> + With the boundless shadows of the sea behind him, out of his silence and + immobility, facing the lofty shapes of the lower peaks crowded around the + white, misty sheen of Higuerota, Nostromo laughed aloud again, sprang + abruptly to his feet, and stood still. He must go. But where? + </p> + <p> + “There is no mistake. They keep us and encourage us as if we were dogs + born to fight and hunt for them. The vecchio is right,” he said, slowly + and scathingly. He remembered old Giorgio taking his pipe out of his mouth + to throw these words over his shoulder at the cafe, full of engine-drivers + and fitters from the railway workshops. This image fixed his wavering + purpose. He would try to find old Giorgio if he could. God knows what + might have happened to him! He made a few steps, then stopped again and + shook his head. To the left and right, in front and behind him, the + scrubby bush rustled mysteriously in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Teresa was right, too,” he added in a low tone touched with awe. He + wondered whether she was dead in her anger with him or still alive. As if + in answer to this thought, half of remorse and half of hope, with a soft + flutter and oblique flight, a big owl, whose appalling cry: “Ya-acabo! + Ya-acabo!—it is finished; it is finished”—announces calamity + and death in the popular belief, drifted vaguely like a large dark ball + across his path. In the downfall of all the realities that made his force, + he was affected by the superstition, and shuddered slightly. Signora + Teresa must have died, then. It could mean nothing else. The cry of the + ill-omened bird, the first sound he was to hear on his return, was a + fitting welcome for his betrayed individuality. The unseen powers which he + had offended by refusing to bring a priest to a dying woman were lifting + up their voice against him. She was dead. With admirable and human + consistency he referred everything to himself. She had been a woman of + good counsel always. And the bereaved old Giorgio remained stunned by his + loss just as he was likely to require the advice of his sagacity. The blow + would render the dreamy old man quite stupid for a time. + </p> + <p> + As to Captain Mitchell, Nostromo, after the manner of trusted + subordinates, considered him as a person fitted by education perhaps to + sign papers in an office and to give orders, but otherwise of no use + whatever, and something of a fool. The necessity of winding round his + little finger, almost daily, the pompous and testy self-importance of the + old seaman had grown irksome with use to Nostromo. At first it had given + him an inward satisfaction. But the necessity of overcoming small + obstacles becomes wearisome to a self-confident personality as much by the + certitude of success as by the monotony of effort. He mistrusted his + superior’s proneness to fussy action. That old Englishman had no judgment, + he said to himself. It was useless to suppose that, acquainted with the + true state of the case, he would keep it to himself. He would talk of + doing impracticable things. Nostromo feared him as one would fear saddling + one’s self with some persistent worry. He had no discretion. He would + betray the treasure. And Nostromo had made up his mind that the treasure + should not be betrayed. + </p> + <p> + The word had fixed itself tenaciously in his intelligence. His imagination + had seized upon the clear and simple notion of betrayal to account for the + dazed feeling of enlightenment as to being done for, of having + inadvertently gone out of his existence on an issue in which his + personality had not been taken into account. A man betrayed is a man + destroyed. Signora Teresa (may God have her soul!) had been right. He had + never been taken into account. Destroyed! Her white form sitting up bowed + in bed, the falling black hair, the wide-browed suffering face raised to + him, the anger of her denunciations appeared to him now majestic with the + awfulness of inspiration and of death. For it was not for nothing that the + evil bird had uttered its lamentable shriek over his head. She was dead—may + God have her soul! + </p> + <p> + Sharing in the anti-priestly freethought of the masses, his mind used the + pious formula from the superficial force of habit, but with a deep-seated + sincerity. The popular mind is incapable of scepticism; and that + incapacity delivers their helpless strength to the wiles of swindlers and + to the pitiless enthusiasms of leaders inspired by visions of a high + destiny. She was dead. But would God consent to receive her soul? She had + died without confession or absolution, because he had not been willing to + spare her another moment of his time. His scorn of priests as priests + remained; but after all, it was impossible to know whether what they + affirmed was not true. Power, punishment, pardon, are simple and credible + notions. The magnificent Capataz de Cargadores, deprived of certain simple + realities, such as the admiration of women, the adulation of men, the + admired publicity of his life, was ready to feel the burden of + sacrilegious guilt descend upon his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Bareheaded, in a thin shirt and drawers, he felt the lingering warmth of + the fine sand under the soles of his feet. The narrow strand gleamed far + ahead in a long curve, defining the outline of this wild side of the + harbour. He flitted along the shore like a pursued shadow between the + sombre palm-groves and the sheet of water lying as still as death on his + right hand. He strode with headlong haste in the silence and solitude as + though he had forgotten all prudence and caution. But he knew that on this + side of the water he ran no risk of discovery. The only inhabitant was a + lonely, silent, apathetic Indian in charge of the palmarias, who brought + sometimes a load of cocoanuts to the town for sale. He lived without a + woman in an open shed, with a perpetual fire of dry sticks smouldering + near an old canoe lying bottom up on the beach. He could be easily + avoided. + </p> + <p> + The barking of the dogs about that man’s ranche was the first thing that + checked his speed. He had forgotten the dogs. He swerved sharply, and + plunged into the palm-grove, as into a wilderness of columns in an immense + hall, whose dense obscurity seemed to whisper and rustle faintly high + above his head. He traversed it, entered a ravine, and climbed to the top + of a steep ridge free of trees and bushes. + </p> + <p> + From there, open and vague in the starlight, he saw the plain between the + town and the harbour. In the woods above some night-bird made a strange + drumming noise. Below beyond the palmaria on the beach, the Indian’s dogs + continued to bark uproariously. He wondered what had upset them so much, + and, peering down from his elevation, was surprised to detect + unaccountable movements of the ground below, as if several oblong pieces + of the plain had been in motion. Those dark, shifting patches, alternately + catching and eluding the eye, altered their place always away from the + harbour, with a suggestion of consecutive order and purpose. A light + dawned upon him. It was a column of infantry on a night march towards the + higher broken country at the foot of the hills. But he was too much in the + dark about everything for wonder and speculation. + </p> + <p> + The plain had resumed its shadowy immobility. He descended the ridge and + found himself in the open solitude, between the harbour and the town. Its + spaciousness, extended indefinitely by an effect of obscurity, rendered + more sensible his profound isolation. His pace became slower. No one + waited for him; no one thought of him; no one expected or wished his + return. “Betrayed! Betrayed!” he muttered to himself. No one cared. He + might have been drowned by this time. No one would have cared—unless, + perhaps, the children, he thought to himself. But they were with the + English signora, and not thinking of him at all. + </p> + <p> + He wavered in his purpose of making straight for the Casa Viola. To what + end? What could he expect there? His life seemed to fail him in all its + details, even to the scornful reproaches of Teresa. He was aware painfully + of his reluctance. Was it that remorse which she had prophesied with, what + he saw now, was her last breath? + </p> + <p> + Meantime, he had deviated from the straight course, inclining by a sort of + instinct to the right, towards the jetty and the harbour, the scene of his + daily labours. The great length of the Custom House loomed up all at once + like the wall of a factory. Not a soul challenged his approach, and his + curiosity became excited as he passed cautiously towards the front by the + unexpected sight of two lighted windows. + </p> + <p> + They had the fascination of a lonely vigil kept by some mysterious watcher + up there, those two windows shining dimly upon the harbour in the whole + vast extent of the abandoned building. The solitude could almost be felt. + A strong smell of wood smoke hung about in a thin haze, which was faintly + perceptible to his raised eyes against the glitter of the stars. As he + advanced in the profound silence, the shrilling of innumerable cicalas in + the dry grass seemed positively deafening to his strained ears. Slowly, + step by step, he found himself in the great hall, sombre and full of acrid + smoke. + </p> + <p> + A fire built against the staircase had burnt down impotently to a low heap + of embers. The hard wood had failed to catch; only a few steps at the + bottom smouldered, with a creeping glow of sparks defining their charred + edges. At the top he saw a streak of light from an open door. It fell upon + the vast landing, all foggy with a slow drift of smoke. That was the room. + He climbed the stairs, then checked himself, because he had seen within + the shadow of a man cast upon one of the walls. It was a shapeless, + high-shouldered shadow of somebody standing still, with lowered head, out + of his line of sight. The Capataz, remembering that he was totally + unarmed, stepped aside, and, effacing himself upright in a dark corner, + waited with his eyes fixed on the door. + </p> + <p> + The whole enormous ruined barrack of a place, unfinished, without ceilings + under its lofty roof, was pervaded by the smoke swaying to and fro in the + faint cross draughts playing in the obscurity of many lofty rooms and + barnlike passages. Once one of the swinging shutters came against the wall + with a single sharp crack, as if pushed by an impatient hand. A piece of + paper scurried out from somewhere, rustling along the landing. The man, + whoever he was, did not darken the lighted doorway. Twice the Capataz, + advancing a couple of steps out of his corner, craned his neck in the hope + of catching sight of what he could be at, so quietly, in there. But every + time he saw only the distorted shadow of broad shoulders and bowed head. + He was doing apparently nothing, and stirred not from the spot, as though + he were meditating—or, perhaps, reading a paper. And not a sound + issued from the room. + </p> + <p> + Once more the Capataz stepped back. He wondered who it was—some + Monterist? But he dreaded to show himself. To discover his presence on + shore, unless after many days, would, he believed, endanger the treasure. + With his own knowledge possessing his whole soul, it seemed impossible + that anybody in Sulaco should fail to jump at the right surmise. After a + couple of weeks or so it would be different. Who could tell he had not + returned overland from some port beyond the limits of the Republic? The + existence of the treasure confused his thoughts with a peculiar sort of + anxiety, as though his life had become bound up with it. It rendered him + timorous for a moment before that enigmatic, lighted door. Devil take the + fellow! He did not want to see him. There would be nothing to learn from + his face, known or unknown. He was a fool to waste his time there in + waiting. + </p> + <p> + Less than five minutes after entering the place the Capataz began his + retreat. He got away down the stairs with perfect success, gave one upward + look over his shoulder at the light on the landing, and ran stealthily + across the hall. But at the very moment he was turning out of the great + door, with his mind fixed upon escaping the notice of the man upstairs, + somebody he had not heard coming briskly along the front ran full into + him. Both muttered a stifled exclamation of surprise, and leaped back and + stood still, each indistinct to the other. Nostromo was silent. The other + man spoke first, in an amazed and deadened tone. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + Already Nostromo had seemed to recognize Dr. Monygham. He had no doubt + now. He hesitated the space of a second. The idea of bolting without a + word presented itself to his mind. No use! An inexplicable repugnance to + pronounce the name by which he was known kept him silent a little longer. + At last he said in a low voice— + </p> + <p> + “A Cargador.” + </p> + <p> + He walked up to the other. Dr. Monygham had received a shock. He flung his + arms up and cried out his wonder aloud, forgetting himself before the + marvel of this meeting. Nostromo angrily warned him to moderate his voice. + The Custom House was not so deserted as it looked. There was somebody in + the lighted room above. + </p> + <p> + There is no more evanescent quality in an accomplished fact than its + wonderfulness. Solicited incessantly by the considerations affecting its + fears and desires, the human mind turns naturally away from the marvellous + side of events. And it was in the most natural way possible that the + doctor asked this man whom only two minutes before he believed to have + been drowned in the gulf— + </p> + <p> + “You have seen somebody up there? Have you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not seen him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “I was running away from his shadow when we met.” + </p> + <p> + “His shadow?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. His shadow in the lighted room,” said Nostromo, in a contemptuous + tone. Leaning back with folded arms at the foot of the immense building, + he dropped his head, biting his lips slightly, and not looking at the + doctor. “Now,” he thought to himself, “he will begin asking me about the + treasure.” + </p> + <p> + But the doctor’s thoughts were concerned with an event not as marvellous + as Nostromo’s appearance, but in itself much less clear. Why had Sotillo + taken himself off with his whole command with this suddenness and secrecy? + What did this move portend? However, it dawned upon the doctor that the + man upstairs was one of the officers left behind by the disappointed + colonel to communicate with him. + </p> + <p> + “I believe he is waiting for me,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It is possible.” + </p> + <p> + “I must see. Do not go away yet, Capataz.” + </p> + <p> + “Go away where?” muttered Nostromo. + </p> + <p> + Already the doctor had left him. He remained leaning against the wall, + staring at the dark water of the harbour; the shrilling of cicalas filled + his ears. An invincible vagueness coming over his thoughts took from them + all power to determine his will. + </p> + <p> + “Capataz! Capataz!” the doctor’s voice called urgently from above. + </p> + <p> + The sense of betrayal and ruin floated upon his sombre indifference as + upon a sluggish sea of pitch. But he stepped out from under the wall, and, + looking up, saw Dr. Monygham leaning out of a lighted window. + </p> + <p> + “Come up and see what Sotillo has done. You need not fear the man up + here.” + </p> + <p> + He answered by a slight, bitter laugh. Fear a man! The Capataz of the + Sulaco Cargadores fear a man! It angered him that anybody should suggest + such a thing. It angered him to be disarmed and skulking and in danger + because of the accursed treasure, which was of so little account to the + people who had tied it round his neck. He could not shake off the worry of + it. To Nostromo the doctor represented all these people. . . . And he had + never even asked after it. Not a word of inquiry about the most desperate + undertaking of his life. + </p> + <p> + Thinking these thoughts, Nostromo passed again through the cavernous hall, + where the smoke was considerably thinned, and went up the stairs, not so + warm to his feet now, towards the streak of light at the top. The doctor + appeared in it for a moment, agitated and impatient. + </p> + <p> + “Come up! Come up!” + </p> + <p> + At the moment of crossing the doorway the Capataz experienced a shock of + surprise. The man had not moved. He saw his shadow in the same place. He + started, then stepped in with a feeling of being about to solve a mystery. + </p> + <p> + It was very simple. For an infinitesimal fraction of a second, against the + light of two flaring and guttering candles, through a blue, pungent, thin + haze which made his eyes smart, he saw the man standing, as he had + imagined him, with his back to the door, casting an enormous and distorted + shadow upon the wall. Swifter than a flash of lightning followed the + impression of his constrained, toppling attitude—the shoulders + projecting forward, the head sunk low upon the breast. Then he + distinguished the arms behind his back, and wrenched so terribly that the + two clenched fists, lashed together, had been forced up higher than the + shoulder-blades. From there his eyes traced in one instantaneous glance + the hide rope going upwards from the tied wrists over a heavy beam and + down to a staple in the wall. He did not want to look at the rigid legs, + at the feet hanging down nervelessly, with their bare toes some six inches + above the floor, to know that the man had been given the estrapade till he + had swooned. His first impulse was to dash forward and sever the rope at + one blow. He felt for his knife. He had no knife—not even a knife. + He stood quivering, and the doctor, perched on the edge of the table, + facing thoughtfully the cruel and lamentable sight, his chin in his hand, + uttered, without stirring— + </p> + <p> + “Tortured—and shot dead through the breast—getting cold.” + </p> + <p> + This information calmed the Capataz. One of the candles flickering in the + socket went out. “Who did this?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Sotillo, I tell you. Who else? Tortured—of course. But why shot?” + The doctor looked fixedly at Nostromo, who shrugged his shoulders + slightly. “And mark, shot suddenly, on impulse. It is evident. I wish I + had his secret.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo had advanced, and stooped slightly to look. “I seem to have seen + that face somewhere,” he muttered. “Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor turned his eyes upon him again. “I may yet come to envying his + fate. What do you think of that, Capataz, eh?” + </p> + <p> + But Nostromo did not even hear these words. Seizing the remaining light, + he thrust it under the drooping head. The doctor sat oblivious, with a + lost gaze. Then the heavy iron candlestick, as if struck out of Nostromo’s + hand, clattered on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo!” exclaimed the doctor, looking up with a start. He could hear the + Capataz stagger against the table and gasp. In the sudden extinction of + the light within, the dead blackness sealing the window-frames became + alive with stars to his sight. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, of course,” the doctor muttered to himself in English. “Enough + to make him jump out of his skin.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo’s heart seemed to force itself into his throat. His head swam. + Hirsch! The man was Hirsch! He held on tight to the edge of the table. + </p> + <p> + “But he was hiding in the lighter,” he almost shouted His voice fell. “In + the lighter, and—and—” + </p> + <p> + “And Sotillo brought him in,” said the doctor. “He is no more startling to + you than you were to me. What I want to know is how he induced some + compassionate soul to shoot him.” + </p> + <p> + “So Sotillo knows—” began Nostromo, in a more equable voice. + </p> + <p> + “Everything!” interrupted the doctor. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz was heard striking the table with his fist. “Everything? What + are you saying, there? Everything? Know everything? It is impossible! + Everything?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. What do you mean by impossible? I tell you I have heard this + Hirsch questioned last night, here, in this very room. He knew your name, + Decoud’s name, and all about the loading of the silver. . . . The lighter + was cut in two. He was grovelling in abject terror before Sotillo, but he + remembered that much. What do you want more? He knew least about himself. + They found him clinging to their anchor. He must have caught at it just as + the lighter went to the bottom.” + </p> + <p> + “Went to the bottom?” repeated Nostromo, slowly. “Sotillo believes that? + Bueno!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor, a little impatiently, was unable to imagine what else could + anybody believe. Yes, Sotillo believed that the lighter was sunk, and the + Capataz de Cargadores, together with Martin Decoud and perhaps one or two + other political fugitives, had been drowned. + </p> + <p> + “I told you well, senor doctor,” remarked Nostromo at that point, “that + Sotillo did not know everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “He did not know I was not dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither did we.” + </p> + <p> + “And you did not care—none of you caballeros on the wharf—once + you got off a man of flesh and blood like yourselves on a fool’s business + that could not end well.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget, Capataz, I was not on the wharf. And I did not think well of + the business. So you need not taunt me. I tell you what, man, we had but + little leisure to think of the dead. Death stands near behind us all. You + were gone.” + </p> + <p> + “I went, indeed!” broke in Nostromo. “And for the sake of what—tell + me?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that is your own affair,” the doctor said, roughly. “Do not ask me.” + </p> + <p> + Their flowing murmurs paused in the dark. Perched on the edge of the table + with slightly averted faces, they felt their shoulders touch, and their + eyes remained directed towards an upright shape nearly lost in the + obscurity of the inner part of the room, that with projecting head and + shoulders, in ghastly immobility, seemed intent on catching every word. + </p> + <p> + “Muy bien!” Nostromo muttered at last. “So be it. Teresa was right. It is + my own affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Teresa is dead,” remarked the doctor, absently, while his mind followed a + new line of thought suggested by what might have been called Nostromo’s + return to life. “She died, the poor woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Without a priest?” the Capataz asked, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “What a question! Who could have got a priest for her last night?” + </p> + <p> + “May God keep her soul!” ejaculated Nostromo, with a gloomy and hopeless + fervour which had no time to surprise Dr. Monygham, before, reverting to + their previous conversation, he continued in a sinister tone, “Si, senor + doctor. As you were saying, it is my own affair. A very desperate affair.” + </p> + <p> + “There are no two men in this part of the world that could have saved + themselves by swimming as you have done,” the doctor said, admiringly. + </p> + <p> + And again there was silence between those two men. They were both + reflecting, and the diversity of their natures made their thoughts born + from their meeting swing afar from each other. The doctor, impelled to + risky action by his loyalty to the Goulds, wondered with thankfulness at + the chain of accident which had brought that man back where he would be of + the greatest use in the work of saving the San Tome mine. The doctor was + loyal to the mine. It presented itself to his fifty-years’ old eyes in the + shape of a little woman in a soft dress with a long train, with a head + attractively overweighted by a great mass of fair hair and the delicate + preciousness of her inner worth, partaking of a gem and a flower, revealed + in every attitude of her person. As the dangers thickened round the San + Tome mine this illusion acquired force, permanency, and authority. It + claimed him at last! This claim, exalted by a spiritual detachment from + the usual sanctions of hope and reward, made Dr. Monygham’s thinking, + acting, individuality extremely dangerous to himself and to others, all + his scruples vanishing in the proud feeling that his devotion was the only + thing that stood between an admirable woman and a frightful disaster. + </p> + <p> + It was a sort of intoxication which made him utterly indifferent to + Decoud’s fate, but left his wits perfectly clear for the appreciation of + Decoud’s political idea. It was a good idea—and Barrios was the only + instrument of its realization. The doctor’s soul, withered and shrunk by + the shame of a moral disgrace, became implacable in the expansion of its + tenderness. Nostromo’s return was providential. He did not think of him + humanely, as of a fellow-creature just escaped from the jaws of death. The + Capataz for him was the only possible messenger to Cayta. The very man. + The doctor’s misanthropic mistrust of mankind (the bitterer because based + on personal failure) did not lift him sufficiently above common + weaknesses. He was under the spell of an established reputation. Trumpeted + by Captain Mitchell, grown in repetition, and fixed in general assent, + Nostromo’s faithfulness had never been questioned by Dr. Monygham as a + fact. It was not likely to be questioned now he stood in desperate need of + it himself. Dr. Monygham was human; he accepted the popular conception of + the Capataz’s incorruptibility simply because no word or fact had ever + contradicted a mere affirmation. It seemed to be a part of the man, like + his whiskers or his teeth. It was impossible to conceive him otherwise. + The question was whether he would consent to go on such a dangerous and + desperate errand. The doctor was observant enough to have become aware + from the first of something peculiar in the man’s temper. He was no doubt + sore about the loss of the silver. + </p> + <p> + “It will be necessary to take him into my fullest confidence,” he said to + himself, with a certain acuteness of insight into the nature he had to + deal with. + </p> + <p> + On Nostromo’s side the silence had been full of black irresolution, anger, + and mistrust. He was the first to break it, however. + </p> + <p> + “The swimming was no great matter,” he said. “It is what went before—and + what comes after that—” + </p> + <p> + He did not quite finish what he meant to say, breaking off short, as + though his thought had butted against a solid obstacle. The doctor’s mind + pursued its own schemes with Machiavellian subtlety. He said as + sympathetically as he was able— + </p> + <p> + “It is unfortunate, Capataz. But no one would think of blaming you. Very + unfortunate. To begin with, the treasure ought never to have left the + mountain. But it was Decoud who—however, he is dead. There is no + need to talk of him.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” assented Nostromo, as the doctor paused, “there is no need to talk + of dead men. But I am not dead yet.” + </p> + <p> + “You are all right. Only a man of your intrepidity could have saved + himself.” + </p> + <p> + In this Dr. Monygham was sincere. He esteemed highly the intrepidity of + that man, whom he valued but little, being disillusioned as to mankind in + general, because of the particular instance in which his own manhood had + failed. Having had to encounter singlehanded during his period of eclipse + many physical dangers, he was well aware of the most dangerous element + common to them all: of the crushing, paralyzing sense of human littleness, + which is what really defeats a man struggling with natural forces, alone, + far from the eyes of his fellows. He was eminently fit to appreciate the + mental image he made for himself of the Capataz, after hours of tension + and anxiety, precipitated suddenly into an abyss of waters and darkness, + without earth or sky, and confronting it not only with an undismayed mind, + but with sensible success. Of course, the man was an incomparable swimmer, + that was known, but the doctor judged that this instance testified to a + still greater intrepidity of spirit. It was pleasing to him; he augured + well from it for the success of the arduous mission with which he meant to + entrust the Capataz so marvellously restored to usefulness. And in a tone + vaguely gratified, he observed— + </p> + <p> + “It must have been terribly dark!” + </p> + <p> + “It was the worst darkness of the Golfo,” the Capataz assented, briefly. + He was mollified by what seemed a sign of some faint interest in such + things as had befallen him, and dropped a few descriptive phrases with an + affected and curt nonchalance. At that moment he felt communicative. He + expected the continuance of that interest which, whether accepted or + rejected, would have restored to him his personality—the only thing + lost in that desperate affair. But the doctor, engrossed by a desperate + adventure of his own, was terrible in the pursuit of his idea. He let an + exclamation of regret escape him. + </p> + <p> + “I could almost wish you had shouted and shown a light.” + </p> + <p> + This unexpected utterance astounded the Capataz by its character of + cold-blooded atrocity. It was as much as to say, “I wish you had shown + yourself a coward; I wish you had had your throat cut for your pains.” + Naturally he referred it to himself, whereas it related only to the + silver, being uttered simply and with many mental reservations. Surprise + and rage rendered him speechless, and the doctor pursued, practically + unheard by Nostromo, whose stirred blood was beating violently in his + ears. + </p> + <p> + “For I am convinced Sotillo in possession of the silver would have turned + short round and made for some small port abroad. Economically it would + have been wasteful, but still less wasteful than having it sunk. It was + the next best thing to having it at hand in some safe place, and using + part of it to buy up Sotillo. But I doubt whether Don Carlos would have + ever made up his mind to it. He is not fit for Costaguana, and that is a + fact, Capataz.” + </p> + <p> + The Capataz had mastered the fury that was like a tempest in his ears in + time to hear the name of Don Carlos. He seemed to have come out of it a + changed man—a man who spoke thoughtfully in a soft and even voice. + </p> + <p> + “And would Don Carlos have been content if I had surrendered this + treasure?” + </p> + <p> + “I should not wonder if they were all of that way of thinking now,” the + doctor said, grimly. “I was never consulted. Decoud had it his own way. + Their eyes are opened by this time, I should think. I for one know that if + that silver turned up this moment miraculously ashore I would give it to + Sotillo. And, as things stand, I would be approved.” + </p> + <p> + “Turned up miraculously,” repeated the Capataz very low; then raised his + voice. “That, senor, would be a greater miracle than any saint could + perform.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, Capataz,” said the doctor, drily. + </p> + <p> + He went on to develop his view of Sotillo’s dangerous influence upon the + situation. And the Capataz, listening as if in a dream, felt himself of as + little account as the indistinct, motionless shape of the dead man whom he + saw upright under the beam, with his air of listening also, disregarded, + forgotten, like a terrible example of neglect. + </p> + <p> + “Was it for an unconsidered and foolish whim that they came to me, then?” + he interrupted suddenly. “Had I not done enough for them to be of some + account, por Dios? Is it that the hombres finos—the gentlemen—need + not think as long as there is a man of the people ready to risk his body + and soul? Or, perhaps, we have no souls—like dogs?” + </p> + <p> + “There was Decoud, too, with his plan,” the doctor reminded him again. + </p> + <p> + “Si! And the rich man in San Francisco who had something to do with that + treasure, too—what do I know? No! I have heard too many things. It + seems to me that everything is permitted to the rich.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand, Capataz,” the doctor began. + </p> + <p> + “What Capataz?” broke in Nostromo, in a forcible but even voice. “The + Capataz is undone, destroyed. There is no Capataz. Oh, no! You will find + the Capataz no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, this is childish!” remonstrated the doctor; and the other calmed + down suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “I have been indeed like a little child,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + And as his eyes met again the shape of the murdered man suspended in his + awful immobility, which seemed the uncomplaining immobility of attention, + he asked, wondering gently— + </p> + <p> + “Why did Sotillo give the estrapade to this pitiful wretch? Do you know? + No torture could have been worse than his fear. Killing I can understand. + His anguish was intolerable to behold. But why should he torment him like + this? He could tell no more.” + </p> + <p> + “No; he could tell nothing more. Any sane man would have seen that. He had + told him everything. But I tell you what it is, Capataz. Sotillo would not + believe what he was told. Not everything.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it he would not believe? I cannot understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I can, because I have seen the man. He refuses to believe that the + treasure is lost.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” the Capataz cried out in a discomposed tone. + </p> + <p> + “That startles you—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I to understand, senor,” Nostromo went on in a deliberate and, as it + were, watchful tone, “that Sotillo thinks the treasure has been saved by + some means?” + </p> + <p> + “No! no! That would be impossible,” said the doctor, with conviction; and + Nostromo emitted a grunt in the dark. “That would be impossible. He thinks + that the silver was no longer in the lighter when she was sunk. He has + convinced himself that the whole show of getting it away to sea is a mere + sham got up to deceive Gamacho and his Nationals, Pedrito Montero, Senor + Fuentes, our new Gefe Politico, and himself, too. Only, he says, he is no + such fool.” + </p> + <p> + “But he is devoid of sense. He is the greatest imbecile that ever called + himself a colonel in this country of evil,” growled Nostromo. + </p> + <p> + “He is no more unreasonable than many sensible men,” said the doctor. “He + has convinced himself that the treasure can be found because he desires + passionately to possess himself of it. And he is also afraid of his + officers turning upon him and going over to Pedrito, whom he has not the + courage either to fight or trust. Do you see that, Capataz? He need fear + no desertion as long as some hope remains of that enormous plunder turning + up. I have made it my business to keep this very hope up.” + </p> + <p> + “You have?” the Capataz de Cargadores repeated cautiously. “Well, that is + wonderful. And how long do you think you are going to keep it up?” + </p> + <p> + “As long as I can.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I can tell you exactly. As long as I live,” the doctor retorted in a + stubborn voice. Then, in a few words, he described the story of his arrest + and the circumstances of his release. “I was going back to that silly + scoundrel when we met,” he concluded. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo had listened with profound attention. “You have made up your + mind, then, to a speedy death,” he muttered through his clenched teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, my illustrious Capataz,” the doctor said, testily. “You are not + the only one here who can look an ugly death in the face.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt,” mumbled Nostromo, loud enough to be overheard. “There may be + even more than two fools in this place. Who knows?” + </p> + <p> + “And that is my affair,” said the doctor, curtly. + </p> + <p> + “As taking out the accursed silver to sea was my affair,” retorted + Nostromo. “I see. Bueno! Each of us has his reasons. But you were the last + man I conversed with before I started, and you talked to me as if I were a + fool.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo had a great distaste for the doctor’s sardonic treatment of his + great reputation. Decoud’s faintly ironic recognition used to make him + uneasy; but the familiarity of a man like Don Martin was flattering, + whereas the doctor was a nobody. He could remember him a penniless + outcast, slinking about the streets of Sulaco, without a single friend or + acquaintance, till Don Carlos Gould took him into the service of the mine. + </p> + <p> + “You may be very wise,” he went on, thoughtfully, staring into the + obscurity of the room, pervaded by the gruesome enigma of the tortured and + murdered Hirsch. “But I am not such a fool as when I started. I have + learned one thing since, and that is that you are a dangerous man.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham was too startled to do more than exclaim— + </p> + <p> + “What is it you say?” + </p> + <p> + “If he could speak he would say the same thing,” pursued Nostromo, with a + nod of his shadowy head silhouetted against the starlit window. + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand you,” said Dr. Monygham, faintly. + </p> + <p> + “No? Perhaps, if you had not confirmed Sotillo in his madness, he would + have been in no haste to give the estrapade to that miserable Hirsch.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor started at the suggestion. But his devotion, absorbing all his + sensibilities, had left his heart steeled against remorse and pity. Still, + for complete relief, he felt the necessity of repelling it loudly and + contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Bah! You dare to tell me that, with a man like Sotillo. I confess I did + not give a thought to Hirsch. If I had it would have been useless. Anybody + can see that the luckless wretch was doomed from the moment he caught hold + of the anchor. He was doomed, I tell you! Just as I myself am doomed—most + probably.” + </p> + <p> + This is what Dr. Monygham said in answer to Nostromo’s remark, which was + plausible enough to prick his conscience. He was not a callous man. But + the necessity, the magnitude, the importance of the task he had taken upon + himself dwarfed all merely humane considerations. He had undertaken it in + a fanatical spirit. He did not like it. To lie, to deceive, to circumvent + even the basest of mankind was odious to him. It was odious to him by + training, instinct, and tradition. To do these things in the character of + a traitor was abhorrent to his nature and terrible to his feelings. He had + made that sacrifice in a spirit of abasement. He had said to himself + bitterly, “I am the only one fit for that dirty work.” And he believed + this. He was not subtle. His simplicity was such that, though he had no + sort of heroic idea of seeking death, the risk, deadly enough, to which he + exposed himself, had a sustaining and comforting effect. To that spiritual + state the fate of Hirsch presented itself as part of the general atrocity + of things. He considered that episode practically. What did it mean? Was + it a sign of some dangerous change in Sotillo’s delusion? That the man + should have been killed like this was what the doctor could not + understand. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But why shot?” he murmured to himself. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo kept very still. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER NINE + </h2> + <p> + Distracted between doubts and hopes, dismayed by the sound of bells + pealing out the arrival of Pedrito Montero, Sotillo had spent the morning + in battling with his thoughts; a contest to which he was unequal, from the + vacuity of his mind and the violence of his passions. Disappointment, + greed, anger, and fear made a tumult, in the colonel’s breast louder than + the din of bells in the town. Nothing he had planned had come to pass. + Neither Sulaco nor the silver of the mine had fallen into his hands. He + had performed no military exploit to secure his position, and had obtained + no enormous booty to make off with. Pedrito Montero, either as friend or + foe, filled him with dread. The sound of bells maddened him. + </p> + <p> + Imagining at first that he might be attacked at once, he had made his + battalion stand to arms on the shore. He walked to and fro all the length + of the room, stopping sometimes to gnaw the finger-tips of his right hand + with a lurid sideways glare fixed on the floor; then, with a sullen, + repelling glance all round, he would resume his tramping in savage + aloofness. His hat, horsewhip, sword, and revolver were lying on the + table. His officers, crowding the window giving the view of the town gate, + disputed amongst themselves the use of his field-glass bought last year on + long credit from Anzani. It passed from hand to hand, and the possessor + for the time being was besieged by anxious inquiries. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing; there is nothing to see!” he would repeat impatiently. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing. And when the picket in the bushes near the Casa Viola + had been ordered to fall back upon the main body, no stir of life appeared + on the stretch of dusty and arid land between the town and the waters of + the port. But late in the afternoon a horseman issuing from the gate was + made out riding up fearlessly. It was an emissary from Senor Fuentes. + Being all alone he was allowed to come on. Dismounting at the great door + he greeted the silent bystanders with cheery impudence, and begged to be + taken up at once to the “muy valliente” colonel. + </p> + <p> + Senor Fuentes, on entering upon his functions of Gefe Politico, had turned + his diplomatic abilities to getting hold of the harbour as well as of the + mine. The man he pitched upon to negotiate with Sotillo was a Notary + Public, whom the revolution had found languishing in the common jail on a + charge of forging documents. Liberated by the mob along with the other + “victims of Blanco tyranny,” he had hastened to offer his services to the + new Government. + </p> + <p> + He set out determined to display much zeal and eloquence in trying to + induce Sotillo to come into town alone for a conference with Pedrito + Montero. Nothing was further from the colonel’s intentions. The mere + fleeting idea of trusting himself into the famous Pedrito’s hands had made + him feel unwell several times. It was out of the question—it was + madness. And to put himself in open hostility was madness, too. It would + render impossible a systematic search for that treasure, for that wealth + of silver which he seemed to feel somewhere about, to scent somewhere + near. + </p> + <p> + But where? Where? Heavens! Where? Oh! why had he allowed that doctor to + go! Imbecile that he was. But no! It was the only right course, he + reflected distractedly, while the messenger waited downstairs chatting + agreeably to the officers. It was in that scoundrelly doctor’s true + interest to return with positive information. But what if anything stopped + him? A general prohibition to leave the town, for instance! There would be + patrols! + </p> + <p> + The colonel, seizing his head in his hands, turned in his tracks as if + struck with vertigo. A flash of craven inspiration suggested to him an + expedient not unknown to European statesmen when they wish to delay a + difficult negotiation. Booted and spurred, he scrambled into the hammock + with undignified haste. His handsome face had turned yellow with the + strain of weighty cares. The ridge of his shapely nose had grown sharp; + the audacious nostrils appeared mean and pinched. The velvety, caressing + glance of his fine eyes seemed dead, and even decomposed; for these + almond-shaped, languishing orbs had become inappropriately bloodshot with + much sinister sleeplessness. He addressed the surprised envoy of Senor + Fuentes in a deadened, exhausted voice. It came pathetically feeble from + under a pile of ponchos, which buried his elegant person right up to the + black moustaches, uncurled, pendant, in sign of bodily prostration and + mental incapacity. Fever, fever—a heavy fever had overtaken the “muy + valliente” colonel. A wavering wildness of expression, caused by the + passing spasms of a slight colic which had declared itself suddenly, and + the rattling teeth of repressed panic, had a genuineness which impressed + the envoy. It was a cold fit. The colonel explained that he was unable to + think, to listen, to speak. With an appearance of superhuman effort the + colonel gasped out that he was not in a state to return a suitable reply + or to execute any of his Excellency’s orders. But to-morrow! To-morrow! + Ah! to-morrow! Let his Excellency Don Pedro be without uneasiness. The + brave Esmeralda Regiment held the harbour, held—And closing his + eyes, he rolled his aching head like a half-delirious invalid under the + inquisitive stare of the envoy, who was obliged to bend down over the + hammock in order to catch the painful and broken accents. Meantime, + Colonel Sotillo trusted that his Excellency’s humanity would permit the + doctor, the English doctor, to come out of town with his case of foreign + remedies to attend upon him. He begged anxiously his worship the caballero + now present for the grace of looking in as he passed the Casa Gould, and + informing the English doctor, who was probably there, that his services + were immediately required by Colonel Sotillo, lying ill of fever in the + Custom House. Immediately. Most urgently required. Awaited with extreme + impatience. A thousand thanks. He closed his eyes wearily and would not + open them again, lying perfectly still, deaf, dumb, insensible, overcome, + vanquished, crushed, annihilated by the fell disease. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as the other had shut after him the door of the landing, the + colonel leaped out with a fling of both feet in an avalanche of woollen + coverings. His spurs having become entangled in a perfect welter of + ponchos he nearly pitched on his head, and did not recover his balance + till the middle of the room. Concealed behind the half-closed jalousies he + listened to what went on below. + </p> + <p> + The envoy had already mounted, and turning to the morose officers + occupying the great doorway, took off his hat formally. + </p> + <p> + “Caballeros,” he said, in a very loud tone, “allow me to recommend you to + take great care of your colonel. It has done me much honour and + gratification to have seen you all, a fine body of men exercising the + soldierly virtue of patience in this exposed situation, where there is + much sun, and no water to speak of, while a town full of wine and feminine + charms is ready to embrace you for the brave men you are. Caballeros, I + have the honour to salute you. There will be much dancing to-night in + Sulaco. Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + But he reined in his horse and inclined his head sideways on seeing the + old major step out, very tall and meagre, in a straight narrow coat coming + down to his ankles as it were the casing of the regimental colours rolled + round their staff. + </p> + <p> + The intelligent old warrior, after enunciating in a dogmatic tone the + general proposition that the “world was full of traitors,” went on + pronouncing deliberately a panegyric upon Sotillo. He ascribed to him with + leisurely emphasis every virtue under heaven, summing it all up in an + absurd colloquialism current amongst the lower class of Occidentals + (especially about Esmeralda). “And,” he concluded, with a sudden rise in + the voice, “a man of many teeth—‘hombre de muchos dientes.’ Si, + senor. As to us,” he pursued, portentous and impressive, “your worship is + beholding the finest body of officers in the Republic, men unequalled for + valour and sagacity, ‘y hombres de muchos dientes.’” + </p> + <p> + “What? All of them?” inquired the disreputable envoy of Senor Fuentes, + with a faint, derisive smile. + </p> + <p> + “Todos. Si, senor,” the major affirmed, gravely, with conviction. “Men of + many teeth.” + </p> + <p> + The other wheeled his horse to face the portal resembling the high gate of + a dismal barn. He raised himself in his stirrups, extended one arm. He was + a facetious scoundrel, entertaining for these stupid Occidentals a feeling + of great scorn natural in a native from the central provinces. The folly + of Esmeraldians especially aroused his amused contempt. He began an + oration upon Pedro Montero, keeping a solemn countenance. He flourished + his hand as if introducing him to their notice. And when he saw every face + set, all the eyes fixed upon his lips, he began to shout a sort of + catalogue of perfections: “Generous, valorous, affable, profound”—(he + snatched off his hat enthusiastically)—“a statesman, an invincible + chief of partisans—” He dropped his voice startlingly to a deep, + hollow note—“and a dentist.” + </p> + <p> + He was off instantly at a smart walk; the rigid straddle of his legs, the + turned-out feet, the stiff back, the rakish slant of the sombrero above + the square, motionless set of the shoulders expressing an infinite, + awe-inspiring impudence. + </p> + <p> + Upstairs, behind the jalousies, Sotillo did not move for a long time. The + audacity of the fellow appalled him. What were his officers saying below? + They were saying nothing. Complete silence. He quaked. It was not thus + that he had imagined himself at that stage of the expedition. He had seen + himself triumphant, unquestioned, appeased, the idol of the soldiers, + weighing in secret complacency the agreeable alternatives of power and + wealth open to his choice. Alas! How different! Distracted, restless, + supine, burning with fury, or frozen with terror, he felt a dread as + fathomless as the sea creep upon him from every side. That rogue of a + doctor had to come out with his information. That was clear. It would be + of no use to him—alone. He could do nothing with it. Malediction! + The doctor would never come out. He was probably under arrest already, + shut up together with Don Carlos. He laughed aloud insanely. Ha! ha! ha! + ha! It was Pedrito Montero who would get the information. Ha! ha! ha! ha!—and + the silver. Ha! + </p> + <p> + All at once, in the midst of the laugh, he became motionless and silent as + if turned into stone. He too, had a prisoner. A prisoner who must, must + know the real truth. He would have to be made to speak. And Sotillo, who + all that time had not quite forgotten Hirsch, felt an inexplicable + reluctance at the notion of proceeding to extremities. + </p> + <p> + He felt a reluctance—part of that unfathomable dread that crept on + all sides upon him. He remembered reluctantly, too, the dilated eyes of + the hide merchant, his contortions, his loud sobs and protestations. It + was not compassion or even mere nervous sensibility. The fact was that + though Sotillo did never for a moment believe his story—he could not + believe it; nobody could believe such nonsense—yet those accents of + despairing truth impressed him disagreeably. They made him feel sick. And + he suspected also that the man might have gone mad with fear. A lunatic is + a hopeless subject. Bah! A pretence. Nothing but a pretence. He would know + how to deal with that. + </p> + <p> + He was working himself up to the right pitch of ferocity. His fine eyes + squinted slightly; he clapped his hands; a bare-footed orderly appeared + noiselessly, a corporal, with his bayonet hanging on his thigh and a stick + in his hand. + </p> + <p> + The colonel gave his orders, and presently the miserable Hirsch, pushed in + by several soldiers, found him frowning awfully in a broad armchair, hat + on head, knees wide apart, arms akimbo, masterful, imposing, irresistible, + haughty, sublime, terrible. + </p> + <p> + Hirsch, with his arms tied behind his back, had been bundled violently + into one of the smaller rooms. For many hours he remained apparently + forgotten, stretched lifelessly on the floor. From that solitude, full of + despair and terror, he was torn out brutally, with kicks and blows, + passive, sunk in hebetude. He listened to threats and admonitions, and + afterwards made his usual answers to questions, with his chin sunk on his + breast, his hands tied behind his back, swaying a little in front of + Sotillo, and never looking up. When he was forced to hold up his head, by + means of a bayonet-point prodding him under the chin, his eyes had a + vacant, trance-like stare, and drops of perspiration as big as peas were + seen hailing down the dirt, bruises, and scratches of his white face. Then + they stopped suddenly. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo looked at him in silence. “Will you depart from your obstinacy, + you rogue?” he asked. Already a rope, whose one end was fastened to Senor + Hirsch’s wrists, had been thrown over a beam, and three soldiers held the + other end, waiting. He made no answer. His heavy lower lip hung stupidly. + Sotillo made a sign. Hirsch was jerked up off his feet, and a yell of + despair and agony burst out in the room, filled the passage of the great + buildings, rent the air outside, caused every soldier of the camp along + the shore to look up at the windows, started some of the officers in the + hall babbling excitedly, with shining eyes; others, setting their lips, + looked gloomily at the floor. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo, followed by the soldiers, had left the room. The sentry on the + landing presented arms. Hirsch went on screaming all alone behind the + half-closed jalousies while the sunshine, reflected from the water of the + harbour, made an ever-running ripple of light high up on the wall. He + screamed with uplifted eyebrows and a wide-open mouth—incredibly + wide, black, enormous, full of teeth—comical. + </p> + <p> + In the still burning air of the windless afternoon he made the waves of + his agony travel as far as the O. S. N. Company’s offices. Captain + Mitchell on the balcony, trying to make out what went on generally, had + heard him faintly but distinctly, and the feeble and appalling sound + lingered in his ears after he had retreated indoors with blanched cheeks. + He had been driven off the balcony several times during that afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo, irritable, moody, walked restlessly about, held consultations + with his officers, gave contradictory orders in this shrill clamour + pervading the whole empty edifice. Sometimes there would be long and awful + silences. Several times he had entered the torture-chamber where his + sword, horsewhip, revolver, and field-glass were lying on the table, to + ask with forced calmness, “Will you speak the truth now? No? I can wait.” + But he could not afford to wait much longer. That was just it. Every time + he went in and came out with a slam of the door, the sentry on the landing + presented arms, and got in return a black, venomous, unsteady glance, + which, in reality, saw nothing at all, being merely the reflection of the + soul within—a soul of gloomy hatred, irresolution, avarice, and + fury. + </p> + <p> + The sun had set when he went in once more. A soldier carried in two + lighted candles and slunk out, shutting the door without noise. + </p> + <p> + “Speak, thou Jewish child of the devil! The silver! The silver, I say! + Where is it? Where have you foreign rogues hidden it? Confess or—” + </p> + <p> + A slight quiver passed up the taut rope from the racked limbs, but the + body of Senor Hirsch, enterprising business man from Esmeralda, hung under + the heavy beam perpendicular and silent, facing the colonel awfully. The + inflow of the night air, cooled by the snows of the Sierra, spread + gradually a delicious freshness through the close heat of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Speak—thief—scoundrel—picaro—or—” + </p> + <p> + Sotillo had seized the riding-whip, and stood with his arm lifted up. For + a word, for one little word, he felt he would have knelt, cringed, + grovelled on the floor before the drowsy, conscious stare of those fixed + eyeballs starting out of the grimy, dishevelled head that drooped very + still with its mouth closed askew. The colonel ground his teeth with rage + and struck. The rope vibrated leisurely to the blow, like the long string + of a pendulum starting from a rest. But no swinging motion was imparted to + the body of Senor Hirsch, the well-known hide merchant on the coast. With + a convulsive effort of the twisted arms it leaped up a few inches, curling + upon itself like a fish on the end of a line. Senor Hirsch’s head was + flung back on his straining throat; his chin trembled. For a moment the + rattle of his chattering teeth pervaded the vast, shadowy room, where the + candles made a patch of light round the two flames burning side by side. + And as Sotillo, staying his raised hand, waited for him to speak, with the + sudden flash of a grin and a straining forward of the wrenched shoulders, + he spat violently into his face. + </p> + <p> + The uplifted whip fell, and the colonel sprang back with a low cry of + dismay, as if aspersed by a jet of deadly venom. Quick as thought he + snatched up his revolver, and fired twice. The report and the concussion + of the shots seemed to throw him at once from ungovernable rage into + idiotic stupor. He stood with drooping jaw and stony eyes. What had he + done, Sangre de Dios! What had he done? He was basely appalled at his + impulsive act, sealing for ever these lips from which so much was to be + extorted. What could he say? How could he explain? Ideas of headlong + flight somewhere, anywhere, passed through his mind; even the craven and + absurd notion of hiding under the table occurred to his cowardice. It was + too late; his officers had rushed in tumultuously, in a great clatter of + scabbards, clamouring, with astonishment and wonder. But since they did + not immediately proceed to plunge their swords into his breast, the brazen + side of his character asserted itself. Passing the sleeve of his uniform + over his face he pulled himself together, His truculent glance turned + slowly here and there, checked the noise where it fell; and the stiff body + of the late Senor Hirsch, merchant, after swaying imperceptibly, made a + half turn, and came to a rest in the midst of awed murmurs and uneasy + shuffling. + </p> + <p> + A voice remarked loudly, “Behold a man who will never speak again.” And + another, from the back row of faces, timid and pressing, cried out— + </p> + <p> + “Why did you kill him, mi colonel?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he has confessed everything,” answered Sotillo, with the + hardihood of desperation. He felt himself cornered. He brazened it out on + the strength of his reputation with very fair success. His hearers thought + him very capable of such an act. They were disposed to believe his + flattering tale. There is no credulity so eager and blind as the credulity + of covetousness, which, in its universal extent, measures the moral misery + and the intellectual destitution of mankind. Ah! he had confessed + everything, this fractious Jew, this bribon. Good! Then he was no longer + wanted. A sudden dense guffaw was heard from the senior captain—a + big-headed man, with little round eyes and monstrously fat cheeks which + never moved. The old major, tall and fantastically ragged like a + scarecrow, walked round the body of the late Senor Hirsch, muttering to + himself with ineffable complacency that like this there was no need to + guard against any future treacheries of that scoundrel. The others stared, + shifting from foot to foot, and whispering short remarks to each other. + </p> + <p> + Sotillo buckled on his sword and gave curt, peremptory orders to hasten + the retirement decided upon in the afternoon. Sinister, impressive, his + sombrero pulled right down upon his eyebrows, he marched first through the + door in such disorder of mind that he forgot utterly to provide for Dr. + Monygham’s possible return. As the officers trooped out after him, one or + two looked back hastily at the late Senor Hirsch, merchant from Esmeralda, + left swinging rigidly at rest, alone with the two burning candles. In the + emptiness of the room the burly shadow of head and shoulders on the wall + had an air of life. + </p> + <p> + Below, the troops fell in silently and moved off by companies without drum + or trumpet. The old scarecrow major commanded the rearguard; but the party + he left behind with orders to fire the Custom House (and “burn the carcass + of the treacherous Jew where it hung”) failed somehow in their haste to + set the staircase properly alight. The body of the late Senor Hirsch dwelt + alone for a time in the dismal solitude of the unfinished building, + resounding weirdly with sudden slams and clicks of doors and latches, with + rustling scurries of torn papers, and the tremulous sighs that at each + gust of wind passed under the high roof. The light of the two candles + burning before the perpendicular and breathless immobility of the late + Senor Hirsch threw a gleam afar over land and water, like a signal in the + night. He remained to startle Nostromo by his presence, and to puzzle Dr. + Monygham by the mystery of his atrocious end. + </p> + <p> + “But why shot?” the doctor again asked himself, audibly. This time he was + answered by a dry laugh from Nostromo. + </p> + <p> + “You seem much concerned at a very natural thing, senor doctor. I wonder + why? It is very likely that before long we shall all get shot one after + another, if not by Sotillo, then by Pedrito, or Fuentes, or Gamacho. And + we may even get the estrapade, too, or worse—quien sabe?—with + your pretty tale of the silver you put into Sotillo’s head.” + </p> + <p> + “It was in his head already,” the doctor protested. “I only—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And you only nailed it there so that the devil himself—” + </p> + <p> + “That is precisely what I meant to do,” caught up the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “That is what you meant to do. Bueno. It is as I say. You are a dangerous + man.” + </p> + <p> + Their voices, which without rising had been growing quarrelsome, ceased + suddenly. The late Senor Hirsch, erect and shadowy against the stars, + seemed to be waiting attentive, in impartial silence. + </p> + <p> + But Dr. Monygham had no mind to quarrel with Nostromo. At this supremely + critical point of Sulaco’s fortunes it was borne upon him at last that + this man was really indispensable, more indispensable than ever the + infatuation of Captain Mitchell, his proud discoverer, could conceive; far + beyond what Decoud’s best dry raillery about “my illustrious friend, the + unique Capataz de Cargadores,” had ever intended. The fellow was unique. + He was not “one in a thousand.” He was absolutely the only one. The doctor + surrendered. There was something in the genius of that Genoese seaman + which dominated the destinies of great enterprises and of many people, the + fortunes of Charles Gould, the fate of an admirable woman. At this last + thought the doctor had to clear his throat before he could speak. + </p> + <p> + In a completely changed tone he pointed out to the Capataz that, to begin + with, he personally ran no great risk. As far as everybody knew he was + dead. It was an enormous advantage. He had only to keep out of sight in + the Casa Viola, where the old Garibaldino was known to be alone—with + his dead wife. The servants had all run away. No one would think of + searching for him there, or anywhere else on earth, for that matter. + </p> + <p> + “That would be very true,” Nostromo spoke up, bitterly, “if I had not met + you.” + </p> + <p> + For a time the doctor kept silent. “Do you mean to say that you think I + may give you away?” he asked in an unsteady voice. “Why? Why should I do + that?” + </p> + <p> + “What do I know? Why not? To gain a day perhaps. It would take Sotillo a + day to give me the estrapade, and try some other things perhaps, before he + puts a bullet through my heart—as he did to that poor wretch here. + Why not?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor swallowed with difficulty. His throat had gone dry in a moment. + It was not from indignation. The doctor, pathetically enough, believed + that he had forfeited the right to be indignant with any one—for + anything. It was simple dread. Had the fellow heard his story by some + chance? If so, there was an end of his usefulness in that direction. The + indispensable man escaped his influence, because of that indelible blot + which made him fit for dirty work. A feeling as of sickness came upon the + doctor. He would have given anything to know, but he dared not clear up + the point. The fanaticism of his devotion, fed on the sense of his + abasement, hardened his heart in sadness and scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Why not, indeed?” he reechoed, sardonically. “Then the safe thing for you + is to kill me on the spot. I would defend myself. But you may just as well + know I am going about unarmed.” + </p> + <p> + “Por Dios!” said the Capataz, passionately. “You fine people are all + alike. All dangerous. All betrayers of the poor who are your dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not understand,” began the doctor, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I understand you all!” cried the other with a violent movement, as + shadowy to the doctor’s eyes as the persistent immobility of the late + Senor Hirsch. “A poor man amongst you has got to look after himself. I say + that you do not care for those that serve you. Look at me! After all these + years, suddenly, here I find myself like one of these curs that bark + outside the walls—without a kennel or a dry bone for my teeth. <i>Caramba!</i>” + But he relented with a contemptuous fairness. “Of course,” he went on, + quietly, “I do not suppose that you would hasten to give me up to Sotillo, + for example. It is not that. It is that I am nothing! Suddenly—” He + swung his arm downwards. “Nothing to any one,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + The doctor breathed freely. “Listen, Capataz,” he said, stretching out his + arm almost affectionately towards Nostromo’s shoulder. “I am going to tell + you a very simple thing. You are safe because you are needed. I would not + give you away for any conceivable reason, because I want you.” + </p> + <p> + In the dark Nostromo bit his lip. He had heard enough of that. He knew + what that meant. No more of that for him. But he had to look after himself + now, he thought. And he thought, too, that it would not be prudent to part + in anger from his companion. The doctor, admitted to be a great healer, + had, amongst the populace of Sulaco, the reputation of being an evil sort + of man. It was based solidly on his personal appearance, which was + strange, and on his rough ironic manner—proofs visible, sensible, + and incontrovertible of the doctor’s malevolent disposition. And Nostromo + was of the people. So he only grunted incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “You, to speak plainly, are the only man,” the doctor pursued. “It is in + your power to save this town and . . . everybody from the destructive + rapacity of men who—” + </p> + <p> + “No, senor,” said Nostromo, sullenly. “It is not in my power to get the + treasure back for you to give up to Sotillo, or Pedrito, or Gamacho. What + do I know?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody expects the impossible,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “You have said it yourself—nobody,” muttered Nostromo, in a gloomy, + threatening tone. + </p> + <p> + But Dr. Monygham, full of hope, disregarded the enigmatic words and the + threatening tone. To their eyes, accustomed to obscurity, the late Senor + Hirsch, growing more distinct, seemed to have come nearer. And the doctor + lowered his voice in exposing his scheme as though afraid of being + overheard. + </p> + <p> + He was taking the indispensable man into his fullest confidence. Its + implied flattery and suggestion of great risks came with a familiar sound + to the Capataz. His mind, floating in irresolution and discontent, + recognized it with bitterness. He understood well that the doctor was + anxious to save the San Tome mine from annihilation. He would be nothing + without it. It was his interest. Just as it had been the interest of Senor + Decoud, of the Blancos, and of the Europeans to get his Cargadores on + their side. His thought became arrested upon Decoud. What would happen to + him? + </p> + <p> + Nostromo’s prolonged silence made the doctor uneasy. He pointed out, quite + unnecessarily, that though for the present he was safe, he could not live + concealed for ever. The choice was between accepting the mission to + Barrios, with all its dangers and difficulties, and leaving Sulaco by + stealth, ingloriously, in poverty. + </p> + <p> + “None of your friends could reward you and protect you just now, Capataz. + Not even Don Carlos himself.” + </p> + <p> + “I would have none of your protection and none of your rewards. I only + wish I could trust your courage and your sense. When I return in triumph, + as you say, with Barrios, I may find you all destroyed. You have the knife + at your throat now.” + </p> + <p> + It was the doctor’s turn to remain silent in the contemplation of horrible + contingencies. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we would trust your courage and your sense. And you, too, have a + knife at your throat.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! And whom am I to thank for that? What are your politics and your + mines to me—your silver and your constitutions—your Don Carlos + this, and Don Jose that—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” burst out the exasperated doctor. “There are innocent + people in danger whose little finger is worth more than you or I and all + the Ribierists together. I don’t know. You should have asked yourself + before you allowed Decoud to lead you into all this. It was your place to + think like a man; but if you did not think then, try to act like a man + now. Did you imagine Decoud cared very much for what would happen to you?” + </p> + <p> + “No more than you care for what will happen to me,” muttered the other. + </p> + <p> + “No; I care for what will happen to you as little as I care for what will + happen to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “And all this because you are such a devoted Ribierist?” Nostromo said in + an incredulous tone. + </p> + <p> + “All this because I am such a devoted Ribierist,” repeated Dr. Monygham, + grimly. + </p> + <p> + Again Nostromo, gazing abstractedly at the body of the late Senor Hirsch, + remained silent, thinking that the doctor was a dangerous person in more + than one sense. It was impossible to trust him. + </p> + <p> + “Do you speak in the name of Don Carlos?” he asked at last. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I do,” the doctor said, loudly, without hesitation. “He must come + forward now. He must,” he added in a mutter, which Nostromo did not catch. + </p> + <p> + “What did you say, senor?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor started. “I say that you must be true to yourself, Capataz. It + would be worse than folly to fail now.” + </p> + <p> + “True to myself,” repeated Nostromo. “How do you know that I would not be + true to myself if I told you to go to the devil with your propositions?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know. Maybe you would,” the doctor said, with a roughness of + tone intended to hide the sinking of his heart and the faltering of his + voice. “All I know is, that you had better get away from here. Some of + Sotillo’s men may turn up here looking for me.” + </p> + <p> + He slipped off the table, listening intently. The Capataz, too, stood up. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I went to Cayta, what would you do meantime?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I would go to Sotillo directly you had left—in the way I am + thinking of.” + </p> + <p> + “A very good way—if only that engineer-in-chief consents. Remind + him, senor, that I looked after the old rich Englishman who pays for the + railway, and that I saved the lives of some of his people that time when a + gang of thieves came from the south to wreck one of his pay-trains. It was + I who discovered it all at the risk of my life, by pretending to enter + into their plans. Just as you are doing with Sotillo.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Yes, of course. But I can offer him better arguments,” the doctor + said, hastily. “Leave it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! True. I am nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. You are everything.” + </p> + <p> + They moved a few paces towards the door. Behind them the late Senor Hirsch + preserved the immobility of a disregarded man. + </p> + <p> + “That will be all right. I know what to say to the engineer,” pursued the + doctor, in a low tone. “My difficulty will be with Sotillo.” + </p> + <p> + And Dr. Monygham stopped short in the doorway as if intimidated by the + difficulty. He had made the sacrifice of his life. He considered this a + fitting opportunity. But he did not want to throw his life away too soon. + In his quality of betrayer of Don Carlos’ confidence, he would have + ultimately to indicate the hiding-place of the treasure. That would be the + end of his deception, and the end of himself as well, at the hands of the + infuriated colonel. He wanted to delay him to the very last moment; and he + had been racking his brains to invent some place of concealment at once + plausible and difficult of access. + </p> + <p> + He imparted his trouble to Nostromo, and concluded— + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what, Capataz? I think that when the time comes and some + information must be given, I shall indicate the Great Isabel. That is the + best place I can think of. What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + A low exclamation had escaped Nostromo. The doctor waited, surprised, and + after a moment of profound silence, heard a thick voice stammer out, + “Utter folly,” and stop with a gasp. + </p> + <p> + “Why folly?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You do not see it,” began Nostromo, scathingly, gathering scorn as he + went on. “Three men in half an hour would see that no ground had been + disturbed anywhere on that island. Do you think that such a treasure can + be buried without leaving traces of the work—eh! senor doctor? Why! + you would not gain half a day more before having your throat cut by + Sotillo. The Isabel! What stupidity! What miserable invention! Ah! you are + all alike, you fine men of intelligence. All you are fit for is to betray + men of the people into undertaking deadly risks for objects that you are + not even sure about. If it comes off you get the benefit. If not, then it + does not matter. He is only a dog. Ah! Madre de Dios, I would—” He + shook his fists above his head. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was overwhelmed at first by this fierce, hissing vehemence. + </p> + <p> + “Well! It seems to me on your own showing that the men of the people are + no mean fools, too,” he said, sullenly. “No, but come. You are so clever. + Have you a better place?” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo had calmed down as quickly as he had flared up. + </p> + <p> + “I am clever enough for that,” he said, quietly, almost with indifference. + “You want to tell him of a hiding-place big enough to take days in + ransacking—a place where a treasure of silver ingots can be buried + without leaving a sign on the surface.” + </p> + <p> + “And close at hand,” the doctor put in. + </p> + <p> + “Just so, senor. Tell him it is sunk.” + </p> + <p> + “This has the merit of being the truth,” the doctor said, contemptuously. + “He will not believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “You tell him that it is sunk where he may hope to lay his hands on it, + and he will believe you quick enough. Tell him it has been sunk in the + harbour in order to be recovered afterwards by divers. Tell him you found + out that I had orders from Don Carlos Gould to lower the cases quietly + overboard somewhere in a line between the end of the jetty and the + entrance. The depth is not too great there. He has no divers, but he has a + ship, boats, ropes, chains, sailors—of a sort. Let him fish for the + silver. Let him set his fools to drag backwards and forwards and crossways + while he sits and watches till his eyes drop out of his head.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, this is an admirable idea,” muttered the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Si. You tell him that, and see whether he will not believe you! He will + spend days in rage and torment—and still he will believe. He will + have no thought for anything else. He will not give up till he is driven + off—why, he may even forget to kill you. He will neither eat nor + sleep. He—” + </p> + <p> + “The very thing! The very thing!” the doctor repeated in an excited + whisper. “Capataz, I begin to believe that you are a great genius in your + way.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo had paused; then began again in a changed tone, sombre, speaking + to himself as though he had forgotten the doctor’s existence. + </p> + <p> + “There is something in a treasure that fastens upon a man’s mind. He will + pray and blaspheme and still persevere, and will curse the day he ever + heard of it, and will let his last hour come upon him unawares, still + believing that he missed it only by a foot. He will see it every time he + closes his eyes. He will never forget it till he is dead—and even + then——Doctor, did you ever hear of the miserable gringos on + Azuera, that cannot die? Ha! ha! Sailors like myself. There is no getting + away from a treasure that once fastens upon your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a devil of a man, Capataz. It is the most plausible thing.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo pressed his arm. + </p> + <p> + “It will be worse for him than thirst at sea or hunger in a town full of + people. Do you know what that is? He shall suffer greater torments than he + inflicted upon that terrified wretch who had no invention. None! none! Not + like me. I could have told Sotillo a deadly tale for very little pain.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed wildly and turned in the doorway towards the body of the late + Senor Hirsch, an opaque long blotch in the semi-transparent obscurity of + the room between the two tall parallelograms of the windows full of stars. + </p> + <p> + “You man of fear!” he cried. “You shall be avenged by me—Nostromo. + Out of my way, doctor! Stand aside—or, by the suffering soul of a + woman dead without confession, I will strangle you with my two hands.” + </p> + <p> + He bounded downwards into the black, smoky hall. With a grunt of + astonishment, Dr. Monygham threw himself recklessly into the pursuit. At + the bottom of the charred stairs he had a fall, pitching forward on his + face with a force that would have stunned a spirit less intent upon a task + of love and devotion. He was up in a moment, jarred, shaken, with a queer + impression of the terrestrial globe having been flung at his head in the + dark. But it wanted more than that to stop Dr. Monygham’s body, possessed + by the exaltation of self-sacrifice; a reasonable exaltation, determined + not to lose whatever advantage chance put into its way. He ran with + headlong, tottering swiftness, his arms going like a windmill in his + effort to keep his balance on his crippled feet. He lost his hat; the + tails of his open gaberdine flew behind him. He had no mind to lose sight + of the indispensable man. But it was a long time, and a long way from the + Custom House, before he managed to seize his arm from behind, roughly, out + of breath. + </p> + <p> + “Stop! Are you mad?” + </p> + <p> + Already Nostromo was walking slowly, his head dropping, as if checked in + his pace by the weariness of irresolution. + </p> + <p> + “What is that to you? Ah! I forgot you want me for something. Always. + Siempre Nostromo.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by talking of strangling me?” panted the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “What do I mean? I mean that the king of the devils himself has sent you + out of this town of cowards and talkers to meet me to-night of all the + nights of my life.” + </p> + <p> + Under the starry sky the Albergo d’ltalia Una emerged, black and low, + breaking the dark level of the plain. Nostromo stopped altogether. + </p> + <p> + “The priests say he is a tempter, do they not?” he added, through his + clenched teeth. + </p> + <p> + “My good man, you drivel. The devil has nothing to do with this. Neither + has the town, which you may call by what name you please. But Don Carlos + Gould is neither a coward nor an empty talker. You will admit that?” He + waited. “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Could I see Don Carlos?” + </p> + <p> + “Great heavens! No! Why? What for?” exclaimed the doctor in agitation. “I + tell you it is madness. I will not let you go into the town for anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I must.” + </p> + <p> + “You must not!” hissed the doctor, fiercely, almost beside himself with + the fear of the man doing away with his usefulness for an imbecile whim of + some sort. “I tell you you shall not. I would rather——” + </p> + <p> + He stopped at loss for words, feeling fagged out, powerless, holding on to + Nostromo’s sleeve, absolutely for support after his run. + </p> + <p> + “I am betrayed!” muttered the Capataz to himself; and the doctor, who + overheard the last word, made an effort to speak calmly. + </p> + <p> + “That is exactly what would happen to you. You would be betrayed.” + </p> + <p> + He thought with a sickening dread that the man was so well known that he + could not escape recognition. The house of the Senor Administrador was + beset by spies, no doubt. And even the very servants of the casa were not + to be trusted. “Reflect, Capataz,” he said, impressively. . . . “What are + you laughing at?” + </p> + <p> + “I am laughing to think that if somebody that did not approve of my + presence in town, for instance—you understand, senor doctor—if + somebody were to give me up to Pedrito, it would not be beyond my power to + make friends even with him. It is true. What do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “You are a man of infinite resource, Capataz,” said Dr. Monygham, + dismally. “I recognize that. But the town is full of talk about you; and + those few Cargadores that are not in hiding with the railway people have + been shouting ‘Viva Montero’ on the Plaza all day.” + </p> + <p> + “My poor Cargadores!” muttered Nostromo. “Betrayed! Betrayed!” + </p> + <p> + “I understand that on the wharf you were pretty free in laying about you + with a stick amongst your poor Cargadores,” the doctor said in a grim + tone, which showed that he was recovering from his exertions. “Make no + mistake. Pedrito is furious at Senor Ribiera’s rescue, and at having lost + the pleasure of shooting Decoud. Already there are rumours in the town of + the treasure having been spirited away. To have missed that does not + please Pedrito either; but let me tell you that if you had all that silver + in your hand for ransom it would not save you.” + </p> + <p> + Turning swiftly, and catching the doctor by the shoulders, Nostromo thrust + his face close to his. + </p> + <p> + “Maladetta! You follow me speaking of the treasure. You have sworn my + ruin. You were the last man who looked upon me before I went out with it. + And Sidoni the engine-driver says you have an evil eye.” + </p> + <p> + “He ought to know. I saved his broken leg for him last year,” the doctor + said, stoically. He felt on his shoulders the weight of these hands famed + amongst the populace for snapping thick ropes and bending horseshoes. “And + to you I offer the best means of saving yourself—let me go—and + of retrieving your great reputation. You boasted of making the Capataz de + Cargadores famous from one end of America to the other about this wretched + silver. But I bring you a better opportunity—let me go, hombre!” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo released him abruptly, and the doctor feared that the + indispensable man would run off again. But he did not. He walked on + slowly. The doctor hobbled by his side till, within a stone’s throw from + the Casa Viola, Nostromo stopped again. + </p> + <p> + Silent in inhospitable darkness, the Casa Viola seemed to have changed its + nature; his home appeared to repel him with an air of hopeless and + inimical mystery. The doctor said— + </p> + <p> + “You will be safe there. Go in, Capataz.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I go in?” Nostromo seemed to ask himself in a low, inward tone. + “She cannot unsay what she said, and I cannot undo what I have done.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you it is all right. Viola is all alone in there. I looked in as I + came out of the town. You will be perfectly safe in that house till you + leave it to make your name famous on the Campo. I am going now to arrange + for your departure with the engineer-in-chief, and I shall bring you news + here long before daybreak.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham, disregarding, or perhaps fearing to penetrate the meaning of + Nostromo’s silence, clapped him lightly on the shoulder, and starting off + with his smart, lame walk, vanished utterly at the third or fourth hop in + the direction of the railway track. Arrested between the two wooden posts + for people to fasten their horses to, Nostromo did not move, as if he, + too, had been planted solidly in the ground. At the end of half an hour he + lifted his head to the deep baying of the dogs at the railway yards, which + had burst out suddenly, tumultuous and deadened as if coming from under + the plain. That lame doctor with the evil eye had got there pretty fast. + </p> + <p> + Step by step Nostromo approached the Albergo d’Italia Una, which he had + never known so lightless, so silent, before. The door, all black in the + pale wall, stood open as he had left it twenty-four hours before, when he + had nothing to hide from the world. He remained before it, irresolute, + like a fugitive, like a man betrayed. Poverty, misery, starvation! Where + had he heard these words? The anger of a dying woman had prophesied that + fate for his folly. It looked as if it would come true very quickly. And + the leperos would laugh—she had said. Yes, they would laugh if they + knew that the Capataz de Cargadores was at the mercy of the mad doctor + whom they could remember, only a few years ago, buying cooked food from a + stall on the Plaza for a copper coin—like one of themselves. + </p> + <p> + At that moment the notion of seeking Captain Mitchell passed through his + mind. He glanced in the direction of the jetty and saw a small gleam of + light in the O.S.N. Company’s building. The thought of lighted windows was + not attractive. Two lighted windows had decoyed him into the empty Custom + House, only to fall into the clutches of that doctor. No! He would not go + near lighted windows again on that night. Captain Mitchell was there. And + what could he be told? That doctor would worm it all out of him as if he + were a child. + </p> + <p> + On the threshold he called out “Giorgio!” in an undertone. Nobody + answered. He stepped in. “Ola! viejo! Are you there? . . .” In the + impenetrable darkness his head swam with the illusion that the obscurity + of the kitchen was as vast as the Placid Gulf, and that the floor dipped + forward like a sinking lighter. “Ola! viejo!” he repeated, falteringly, + swaying where he stood. His hand, extended to steady himself, fell upon + the table. Moving a step forward, he shifted it, and felt a box of matches + under his fingers. He fancied he had heard a quiet sigh. He listened for a + moment, holding his breath; then, with trembling hands, tried to strike a + light. + </p> + <p> + The tiny piece of wood flamed up quite blindingly at the end of his + fingers, raised above his blinking eyes. A concentrated glare fell upon + the leonine white head of old Giorgio against the black fire-place—showed + him leaning forward in a chair in staring immobility, surrounded, + overhung, by great masses of shadow, his legs crossed, his cheek in his + hand, an empty pipe in the corner of his mouth. It seemed hours before he + attempted to turn his face; at the very moment the match went out, and he + disappeared, overwhelmed by the shadows, as if the walls and roof of the + desolate house had collapsed upon his white head in ghostly silence. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo heard him stir and utter dispassionately the words— + </p> + <p> + “It may have been a vision.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, softly. “It is no vision, old man.” + </p> + <p> + A strong chest voice asked in the dark— + </p> + <p> + “Is that you I hear, Giovann’ Battista?” + </p> + <p> + “Si, viejo. Steady. Not so loud.” + </p> + <p> + After his release by Sotillo, Giorgio Viola, attended to the very door by + the good-natured engineer-in-chief, had reentered his house, which he had + been made to leave almost at the very moment of his wife’s death. All was + still. The lamp above was burning. He nearly called out to her by name; + and the thought that no call from him would ever again evoke the answer of + her voice, made him drop heavily into the chair with a loud groan, wrung + out by the pain as of a keen blade piercing his breast. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the night he made no sound. The darkness turned to grey, and + on the colourless, clear, glassy dawn the jagged sierra stood out flat and + opaque, as if cut out of paper. + </p> + <p> + The enthusiastic and severe soul of Giorgio Viola, sailor, champion of + oppressed humanity, enemy of kings, and, by the grace of Mrs. Gould, + hotel-keeper of the Sulaco harbour, had descended into the open abyss of + desolation amongst the shattered vestiges of his past. He remembered his + wooing between two campaigns, a single short week in the season of + gathering olives. Nothing approached the grave passion of that time but + the deep, passionate sense of his bereavement. He discovered all the + extent of his dependence upon the silenced voice of that woman. It was her + voice that he missed. Abstracted, busy, lost in inward contemplation, he + seldom looked at his wife in those later years. The thought of his girls + was a matter of concern, not of consolation. It was her voice that he + would miss. And he remembered the other child—the little boy who + died at sea. Ah! a man would have been something to lean upon. And, alas! + even Gian’ Battista—he of whom, and of Linda, his wife had spoken to + him so anxiously before she dropped off into her last sleep on earth, he + on whom she had called aloud to save the children, just before she died—even + he was dead! + </p> + <p> + And the old man, bent forward, his head in his hand, sat through the day + in immobility and solitude. He never heard the brazen roar of the bells in + town. When it ceased the earthenware filter in the corner of the kitchen + kept on its swift musical drip, drip into the great porous jar below. + </p> + <p> + Towards sunset he got up, and with slow movements disappeared up the + narrow staircase. His bulk filled it; and the rubbing of his shoulders + made a small noise as of a mouse running behind the plaster of a wall. + While he remained up there the house was as dumb as a grave. Then, with + the same faint rubbing noise, he descended. He had to catch at the chairs + and tables to regain his seat. He seized his pipe off the high mantel of + the fire-place—but made no attempt to reach the tobacco—thrust + it empty into the corner of his mouth, and sat down again in the same + staring pose. The sun of Pedrito’s entry into Sulaco, the last sun of + Senor Hirsch’s life, the first of Decoud’s solitude on the Great Isabel, + passed over the Albergo d’ltalia Una on its way to the west. The tinkling + drip, drip of the filter had ceased, the lamp upstairs had burnt itself + out, and the night beset Giorgio Viola and his dead wife with its + obscurity and silence that seemed invincible till the Capataz de + Cargadores, returning from the dead, put them to flight with the splutter + and flare of a match. + </p> + <p> + “Si, viejo. It is me. Wait.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo, after barricading the door and closing the shutters carefully, + groped upon a shelf for a candle, and lit it. + </p> + <p> + Old Viola had risen. He followed with his eyes in the dark the sounds made + by Nostromo. The light disclosed him standing without support, as if the + mere presence of that man who was loyal, brave, incorruptible, who was all + his son would have been, were enough for the support of his decaying + strength. + </p> + <p> + He extended his hand grasping the briar-wood pipe, whose bowl was charred + on the edge, and knitted his bushy eyebrows heavily at the light. + </p> + <p> + “You have returned,” he said, with shaky dignity. “Ah! Very well! I——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off. Nostromo, leaning back against the table, his arms folded on + his breast, nodded at him slightly. + </p> + <p> + “You thought I was drowned! No! The best dog of the rich, of the + aristocrats, of these fine men who can only talk and betray the people, is + not dead yet.” + </p> + <p> + The Garibaldino, motionless, seemed to drink in the sound of the + well-known voice. His head moved slightly once as if in sign of approval; + but Nostromo saw clearly that the old man understood nothing of the words. + There was no one to understand; no one he could take into the confidence + of Decoud’s fate, of his own, into the secret of the silver. That doctor + was an enemy of the people—a tempter. . . . + </p> + <p> + Old Giorgio’s heavy frame shook from head to foot with the effort to + overcome his emotion at the sight of that man, who had shared the + intimacies of his domestic life as though he had been a grown-up son. + </p> + <p> + “She believed you would return,” he said, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo raised his head. + </p> + <p> + “She was a wise woman. How could I fail to come back——?” + </p> + <p> + He finished the thought mentally: “Since she has prophesied for me an end + of poverty, misery, and starvation.” These words of Teresa’s anger, from + the circumstances in which they had been uttered, like the cry of a soul + prevented from making its peace with God, stirred the obscure superstition + of personal fortune from which even the greatest genius amongst men of + adventure and action is seldom free. They reigned over Nostromo’s mind + with the force of a potent malediction. And what a curse it was that which + her words had laid upon him! He had been orphaned so young that he could + remember no other woman whom he called mother. Henceforth there would be + no enterprise in which he would not fail. The spell was working already. + Death itself would elude him now. . . . He said violently— + </p> + <p> + “Come, viejo! Get me something to eat. I am hungry! Sangre de Dios! The + emptiness of my belly makes me lightheaded.” + </p> + <p> + With his chin dropped again upon his bare breast above his folded arms, + barefooted, watching from under a gloomy brow the movements of old Viola + foraging amongst the cupboards, he seemed as if indeed fallen under a + curse—a ruined and sinister Capataz. + </p> + <p> + Old Viola walked out of a dark corner, and, without a word, emptied upon + the table out of his hollowed palms a few dry crusts of bread and half a + raw onion. + </p> + <p> + While the Capataz began to devour this beggar’s fare, taking up with + stony-eyed voracity piece after piece lying by his side, the Garibaldino + went off, and squatting down in another corner filled an earthenware mug + with red wine out of a wicker-covered demijohn. With a familiar gesture, + as when serving customers in the cafe, he had thrust his pipe between his + teeth to have his hands free. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz drank greedily. A slight flush deepened the bronze of his + cheek. Before him, Viola, with a turn of his white and massive head + towards the staircase, took his empty pipe out of his mouth, and + pronounced slowly— + </p> + <p> + “After the shot was fired down here, which killed her as surely as if the + bullet had struck her oppressed heart, she called upon you to save the + children. Upon you, Gian’ Battista.” + </p> + <p> + The Capataz looked up. + </p> + <p> + “Did she do that, Padrone? To save the children! They are with the English + senora, their rich benefactress. Hey! old man of the people. Thy + benefactress. . . .” + </p> + <p> + “I am old,” muttered Giorgio Viola. “An Englishwoman was allowed to give a + bed to Garibaldi lying wounded in prison. The greatest man that ever + lived. A man of the people, too—a sailor. I may let another keep a + roof over my head. Si . . . I am old. I may let her. Life lasts too long + sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “And she herself may not have a roof over her head before many days are + out, unless I . . . What do you say? Am I to keep a roof over her head? Am + I to try—and save all the Blancos together with her?” + </p> + <p> + “You shall do it,” said old Viola in a strong voice. “You shall do it as + my son would have. . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Thy son, viejo! .. .. There never has been a man like thy son. Ha, I must + try. . . . But what if it were only a part of the curse to lure me on? . . + . And so she called upon me to save—and then——?” + </p> + <p> + “She spoke no more.” The heroic follower of Garibaldi, at the thought of + the eternal stillness and silence fallen upon the shrouded form stretched + out on the bed upstairs, averted his face and raised his hand to his + furrowed brow. “She was dead before I could seize her hands,” he stammered + out, pitifully. + </p> + <p> + Before the wide eyes of the Capataz, staring at the doorway of the dark + staircase, floated the shape of the Great Isabel, like a strange ship in + distress, freighted with enormous wealth and the solitary life of a man. + It was impossible for him to do anything. He could only hold his tongue, + since there was no one to trust. The treasure would be lost, probably—unless + Decoud. . . . And his thought came abruptly to an end. He perceived that + he could not imagine in the least what Decoud was likely to do. + </p> + <p> + Old Viola had not stirred. And the motionless Capataz dropped his long, + soft eyelashes, which gave to the upper part of his fierce, + black-whiskered face a touch of feminine ingenuousness. The silence had + lasted for a long time. + </p> + <p> + “God rest her soul!” he murmured, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER TEN + </h2> + <p> + The next day was quiet in the morning, except for the faint sound of + firing to the northward, in the direction of Los Hatos. Captain Mitchell + had listened to it from his balcony anxiously. The phrase, “In my delicate + position as the only consular agent then in the port, everything, sir, + everything was a just cause for anxiety,” had its place in the more or + less stereotyped relation of the “historical events” which for the next + few years was at the service of distinguished strangers visiting Sulaco. + The mention of the dignity and neutrality of the flag, so difficult to + preserve in his position, “right in the thick of these events between the + lawlessness of that piratical villain Sotillo and the more regularly + established but scarcely less atrocious tyranny of his Excellency Don + Pedro Montero,” came next in order. Captain Mitchell was not the man to + enlarge upon mere dangers much. But he insisted that it was a memorable + day. On that day, towards dusk, he had seen “that poor fellow of mine—Nostromo. + The sailor whom I discovered, and, I may say, made, sir. The man of the + famous ride to Cayta, sir. An historical event, sir!” + </p> + <p> + Regarded by the O. S. N. Company as an old and faithful servant, Captain + Mitchell was allowed to attain the term of his usefulness in ease and + dignity at the head of the enormously extended service. The augmentation + of the establishment, with its crowds of clerks, an office in town, the + old office in the harbour, the division into departments—passenger, + cargo, lighterage, and so on—secured a greater leisure for his last + years in the regenerated Sulaco, the capital of the Occidental Republic. + Liked by the natives for his good nature and the formality of his manner, + self-important and simple, known for years as a “friend of our country,” + he felt himself a personality of mark in the town. Getting up early for a + turn in the market-place while the gigantic shadow of Higuerota was still + lying upon the fruit and flower stalls piled up with masses of gorgeous + colouring, attending easily to current affairs, welcomed in houses, + greeted by ladies on the Alameda, with his entry into all the clubs and a + footing in the Casa Gould, he led his privileged old bachelor, + man-about-town existence with great comfort and solemnity. But on + mail-boat days he was down at the Harbour Office at an early hour, with + his own gig, manned by a smart crew in white and blue, ready to dash off + and board the ship directly she showed her bows between the harbour heads. + </p> + <p> + It would be into the Harbour Office that he would lead some privileged + passenger he had brought off in his own boat, and invite him to take a + seat for a moment while he signed a few papers. And Captain Mitchell, + seating himself at his desk, would keep on talking hospitably— + </p> + <p> + “There isn’t much time if you are to see everything in a day. We shall be + off in a moment. We’ll have lunch at the Amarilla Club—though I + belong also to the Anglo-American—mining engineers and business men, + don’t you know—and to the Mirliflores as well, a new club—English, + French, Italians, all sorts—lively young fellows mostly, who wanted + to pay a compliment to an old resident, sir. But we’ll lunch at the + Amarilla. Interest you, I fancy. Real thing of the country. Men of the + first families. The President of the Occidental Republic himself belongs + to it, sir. Fine old bishop with a broken nose in the patio. Remarkable + piece of statuary, I believe. Cavaliere Parrochetti—you know + Parrochetti, the famous Italian sculptor—was working here for two + years—thought very highly of our old bishop. . . . There! I am very + much at your service now.” + </p> + <p> + Proud of his experience, penetrated by the sense of historical importance + of men, events, and buildings, he talked pompously in jerky periods, with + slight sweeps of his short, thick arm, letting nothing “escape the + attention” of his privileged captive. + </p> + <p> + “Lot of building going on, as you observe. Before the Separation it was a + plain of burnt grass smothered in clouds of dust, with an ox-cart track to + our Jetty. Nothing more. This is the Harbour Gate. Picturesque, is it not? + Formerly the town stopped short there. We enter now the Calle de la + Constitucion. Observe the old Spanish houses. Great dignity. Eh? I suppose + it’s just as it was in the time of the Viceroys, except for the pavement. + Wood blocks now. Sulaco National Bank there, with the sentry boxes each + side of the gate. Casa Avellanos this side, with all the ground-floor + windows shuttered. A wonderful woman lives there—Miss Avellanos—the + beautiful Antonia. A character, sir! A historical woman! Opposite—Casa + Gould. Noble gateway. Yes, the Goulds of the original Gould Concession, + that all the world knows of now. I hold seventeen of the thousand-dollar + shares in the Consolidated San Tome mines. All the poor savings of my + lifetime, sir, and it will be enough to keep me in comfort to the end of + my days at home when I retire. I got in on the ground-floor, you see. Don + Carlos, great friend of mine. Seventeen shares—quite a little + fortune to leave behind one, too. I have a niece—married a parson—most + worthy man, incumbent of a small parish in Sussex; no end of children. I + was never married myself. A sailor should exercise self-denial. Standing + under that very gateway, sir, with some young engineer-fellows, ready to + defend that house where we had received so much kindness and hospitality, + I saw the first and last charge of Pedrito’s horsemen upon Barrios’s + troops, who had just taken the Harbour Gate. They could not stand the new + rifles brought out by that poor Decoud. It was a murderous fire. In a + moment the street became blocked with a mass of dead men and horses. They + never came on again.” + </p> + <p> + And all day Captain Mitchell would talk like this to his more or less + willing victim— + </p> + <p> + “The Plaza. I call it magnificent. Twice the area of Trafalgar Square.” + </p> + <p> + From the very centre, in the blazing sunshine, he pointed out the + buildings— + </p> + <p> + “The Intendencia, now President’s Palace—Cabildo, where the Lower + Chamber of Parliament sits. You notice the new houses on that side of the + Plaza? Compania Anzani, a great general store, like those cooperative + things at home. Old Anzani was murdered by the National Guards in front of + his safe. It was even for that specific crime that the deputy Gamacho, + commanding the Nationals, a bloodthirsty and savage brute, was executed + publicly by garrotte upon the sentence of a court-martial ordered by + Barrios. Anzani’s nephews converted the business into a company. All that + side of the Plaza had been burnt; used to be colonnaded before. A terrible + fire, by the light of which I saw the last of the fighting, the llaneros + flying, the Nationals throwing their arms down, and the miners of San + Tome, all Indians from the Sierra, rolling by like a torrent to the sound + of pipes and cymbals, green flags flying, a wild mass of men in white + ponchos and green hats, on foot, on mules, on donkeys. Such a sight, sir, + will never be seen again. The miners, sir, had marched upon the town, Don + Pepe leading on his black horse, and their very wives in the rear on + burros, screaming encouragement, sir, and beating tambourines. I remember + one of these women had a green parrot seated on her shoulder, as calm as a + bird of stone. They had just saved their Senor Administrador; for Barrios, + though he ordered the assault at once, at night, too, would have been too + late. Pedrito Montero had Don Carlos led out to be shot—like his + uncle many years ago—and then, as Barrios said afterwards, ‘Sulaco + would not have been worth fighting for.’ Sulaco without the Concession was + nothing; and there were tons and tons of dynamite distributed all over the + mountain with detonators arranged, and an old priest, Father Roman, + standing by to annihilate the San Tome mine at the first news of failure. + Don Carlos had made up his mind not to leave it behind, and he had the + right men to see to it, too.” + </p> + <p> + Thus Captain Mitchell would talk in the middle of the Plaza, holding over + his head a white umbrella with a green lining; but inside the cathedral, + in the dim light, with a faint scent of incense floating in the cool + atmosphere, and here and there a kneeling female figure, black or all + white, with a veiled head, his lowered voice became solemn and impressive. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” he would say, pointing to a niche in the wall of the dusky aisle, + “you see the bust of Don Jose Avellanos, ‘Patriot and Statesman,’ as the + inscription says, ‘Minister to Courts of England and Spain, etc., etc., + died in the woods of Los Hatos worn out with his lifelong struggle for + Right and Justice at the dawn of the New Era.’ A fair likeness. + Parrochetti’s work from some old photographs and a pencil sketch by Mrs. + Gould. I was well acquainted with that distinguished Spanish-American of + the old school, a true Hidalgo, beloved by everybody who knew him. The + marble medallion in the wall, in the antique style, representing a veiled + woman seated with her hands clasped loosely over her knees, commemorates + that unfortunate young gentleman who sailed out with Nostromo on that + fatal night, sir. See, ‘To the memory of Martin Decoud, his betrothed + Antonia Avellanos.’ Frank, simple, noble. There you have that lady, sir, + as she is. An exceptional woman. Those who thought she would give way to + despair were mistaken, sir. She has been blamed in many quarters for not + having taken the veil. It was expected of her. But Dona Antonia is not the + stuff they make nuns of. Bishop Corbelan, her uncle, lives with her in the + Corbelan town house. He is a fierce sort of priest, everlastingly worrying + the Government about the old Church lands and convents. I believe they + think a lot of him in Rome. Now let us go to the Amarilla Club, just + across the Plaza, to get some lunch.” + </p> + <p> + Directly outside the cathedral on the very top of the noble flight of + steps, his voice rose pompously, his arm found again its sweeping gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Porvenir, over there on that first floor, above those French plate-glass + shop-fronts; our biggest daily. Conservative, or, rather, I should say, + Parliamentary. We have the Parliamentary party here of which the actual + Chief of the State, Don Juste Lopez, is the head; a very sagacious man, I + think. A first-rate intellect, sir. The Democratic party in opposition + rests mostly, I am sorry to say, on these socialistic Italians, sir, with + their secret societies, camorras, and such-like. There are lots of + Italians settled here on the railway lands, dismissed navvies, mechanics, + and so on, all along the trunk line. There are whole villages of Italians + on the Campo. And the natives, too, are being drawn into these ways . . . + American bar? Yes. And over there you can see another. New Yorkers mostly + frequent that one——Here we are at the Amarilla. Observe the + bishop at the foot of the stairs to the right as we go in.” + </p> + <p> + And the lunch would begin and terminate its lavish and leisurely course at + a little table in the gallery, Captain Mitchell nodding, bowing, getting + up to speak for a moment to different officials in black clothes, + merchants in jackets, officers in uniform, middle-aged caballeros from the + Campo—sallow, little, nervous men, and fat, placid, swarthy men, and + Europeans or North Americans of superior standing, whose faces looked very + white amongst the majority of dark complexions and black, glistening eyes. + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell would lie back in the chair, casting around looks of + satisfaction, and tender over the table a case full of thick cigars. + </p> + <p> + “Try a weed with your coffee. Local tobacco. The black coffee you get at + the Amarilla, sir, you don’t meet anywhere in the world. We get the bean + from a famous cafeteria in the foot-hills, whose owner sends three sacks + every year as a present to his fellow members in remembrance of the fight + against Gamacho’s Nationals, carried on from these very windows by the + caballeros. He was in town at the time, and took part, sir, to the bitter + end. It arrives on three mules—not in the common way, by rail; no + fear!—right into the patio, escorted by mounted peons, in charge of + the Mayoral of his estate, who walks upstairs, booted and spurred, and + delivers it to our committee formally with the words, ‘For the sake of + those fallen on the third of May.’ We call it Tres de Mayo coffee. Taste + it.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell, with an expression as though making ready to hear a + sermon in a church, would lift the tiny cup to his lips. And the nectar + would be sipped to the bottom during a restful silence in a cloud of cigar + smoke. + </p> + <p> + “Look at this man in black just going out,” he would begin, leaning + forward hastily. “This is the famous Hernandez, Minister of War. The + Times’ special correspondent, who wrote that striking series of letters + calling the Occidental Republic the ‘Treasure House of the World,’ gave a + whole article to him and the force he has organized—the renowned + Carabineers of the Campo.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell’s guest, staring curiously, would see a figure in a + long-tailed black coat walking gravely, with downcast eyelids in a long, + composed face, a brow furrowed horizontally, a pointed head, whose grey + hair, thin at the top, combed down carefully on all sides and rolled at + the ends, fell low on the neck and shoulders. This, then, was the famous + bandit of whom Europe had heard with interest. He put on a high-crowned + sombrero with a wide flat brim; a rosary of wooden beads was twisted about + his right wrist. And Captain Mitchell would proceed— + </p> + <p> + “The protector of the Sulaco refugees from the rage of Pedrito. As general + of cavalry with Barrios he distinguished himself at the storming of + Tonoro, where Senor Fuentes was killed with the last remnant of the + Monterists. He is the friend and humble servant of Bishop Corbelan. Hears + three Masses every day. I bet you he will step into the cathedral to say a + prayer or two on his way home to his siesta.” + </p> + <p> + He took several puffs at his cigar in silence; then, in his most important + manner, pronounced: + </p> + <p> + “The Spanish race, sir, is prolific of remarkable characters in every rank + of life. . . . I propose we go now into the billiard-room, which is cool, + for a quiet chat. There’s never anybody there till after five. I could + tell you episodes of the Separationist revolution that would astonish you. + When the great heat’s over, we’ll take a turn on the Alameda.” + </p> + <p> + The programme went on relentless, like a law of Nature. The turn on the + Alameda was taken with slow steps and stately remarks. + </p> + <p> + “All the great world of Sulaco here, sir.” Captain Mitchell bowed right + and left with no end of formality; then with animation, “Dona Emilia, Mrs. + Gould’s carriage. Look. Always white mules. The kindest, most gracious + woman the sun ever shone upon. A great position, sir. A great position. + First lady in Sulaco—far before the President’s wife. And worthy of + it.” He took off his hat; then, with a studied change of tone, added, + negligently, that the man in black by her side, with a high white collar + and a scarred, snarly face, was Dr. Monygham, Inspector of State + Hospitals, chief medical officer of the Consolidated San Tome mines. “A + familiar of the house. Everlastingly there. No wonder. The Goulds made + him. Very clever man and all that, but I never liked him. Nobody does. I + can recollect him limping about the streets in a check shirt and native + sandals with a watermelon under his arm—all he would get to eat for + the day. A big-wig now, sir, and as nasty as ever. However . . . There’s + no doubt he played his part fairly well at the time. He saved us all from + the deadly incubus of Sotillo, where a more particular man might have + failed——” + </p> + <p> + His arm went up. + </p> + <p> + “The equestrian statue that used to stand on the pedestal over there has + been removed. It was an anachronism,” Captain Mitchell commented, + obscurely. “There is some talk of replacing it by a marble shaft + commemorative of Separation, with angels of peace at the four corners, and + bronze Justice holding an even balance, all gilt, on the top. Cavaliere + Parrochetti was asked to make a design, which you can see framed under + glass in the Municipal Sala. Names are to be engraved all round the base. + Well! They could do no better than begin with the name of Nostromo. He has + done for Separation as much as anybody else, and,” added Captain Mitchell, + “has got less than many others by it—when it comes to that.” He + dropped on to a stone seat under a tree, and tapped invitingly at the + place by his side. “He carried to Barrios the letters from Sulaco which + decided the General to abandon Cayta for a time, and come back to our help + here by sea. The transports were still in harbour fortunately. Sir, I did + not even know that my Capataz de Cargadores was alive. I had no idea. It + was Dr. Monygham who came upon him, by chance, in the Custom House, + evacuated an hour or two before by the wretched Sotillo. I was never told; + never given a hint, nothing—as if I were unworthy of confidence. + Monygham arranged it all. He went to the railway yards, and got admission + to the engineer-in-chief, who, for the sake of the Goulds as much as for + anything else, consented to let an engine make a dash down the line, one + hundred and eighty miles, with Nostromo aboard. It was the only way to get + him off. In the Construction Camp at the railhead, he obtained a horse, + arms, some clothing, and started alone on that marvellous ride—four + hundred miles in six days, through a disturbed country, ending by the feat + of passing through the Monterist lines outside Cayta. The history of that + ride, sir, would make a most exciting book. He carried all our lives in + his pocket. Devotion, courage, fidelity, intelligence were not enough. Of + course, he was perfectly fearless and incorruptible. But a man was wanted + that would know how to succeed. He was that man, sir. On the fifth of May, + being practically a prisoner in the Harbour Office of my Company, I + suddenly heard the whistle of an engine in the railway yards, a quarter of + a mile away. I could not believe my ears. I made one jump on to the + balcony, and beheld a locomotive under a great head of steam run out of + the yard gates, screeching like mad, enveloped in a white cloud, and then, + just abreast of old Viola’s inn, check almost to a standstill. I made out, + sir, a man—I couldn’t tell who—dash out of the Albergo + d’ltalia Una, climb into the cab, and then, sir, that engine seemed + positively to leap clear of the house, and was gone in the twinkling of an + eye. As you blow a candle out, sir! There was a first-rate driver on the + foot-plate, sir, I can tell you. They were fired heavily upon by the + National Guards in Rincon and one other place. Fortunately the line had + not been torn up. In four hours they reached the Construction Camp. + Nostromo had his start. . . . The rest you know. You’ve got only to look + round you. There are people on this Alameda that ride in their carriages, + or even are alive at all to-day, because years ago I engaged a runaway + Italian sailor for a foreman of our wharf simply on the strength of his + looks. And that’s a fact. You can’t get over it, sir. On the seventeenth + of May, just twelve days after I saw the man from the Casa Viola get on + the engine, and wondered what it meant, Barrios’s transports were entering + this harbour, and the ‘Treasure House of the World,’ as The Times man + calls Sulaco in his book, was saved intact for civilization—for a + great future, sir. Pedrito, with Hernandez on the west, and the San Tome + miners pressing on the land gate, was not able to oppose the landing. He + had been sending messages to Sotillo for a week to join him. Had Sotillo + done so there would have been massacres and proscription that would have + left no man or woman of position alive. But that’s where Dr. Monygham + comes in. Sotillo, blind and deaf to everything, stuck on board his + steamer watching the dragging for silver, which he believed to be sunk at + the bottom of the harbour. They say that for the last three days he was + out of his mind raving and foaming with disappointment at getting nothing, + flying about the deck, and yelling curses at the boats with the drags, + ordering them in, and then suddenly stamping his foot and crying out, ‘And + yet it is there! I see it! I feel it!’ + </p> + <p> + “He was preparing to hang Dr. Monygham (whom he had on board) at the end + of the after-derrick, when the first of Barrios’s transports, one of our + own ships at that, steamed right in, and ranging close alongside opened a + small-arm fire without as much preliminaries as a hail. It was the + completest surprise in the world, sir. They were too astounded at first to + bolt below. Men were falling right and left like ninepins. It’s a miracle + that Monygham, standing on the after-hatch with the rope already round his + neck, escaped being riddled through and through like a sieve. He told me + since that he had given himself up for lost, and kept on yelling with all + the strength of his lungs: ‘Hoist a white flag! Hoist a white flag!’ + Suddenly an old major of the Esmeralda regiment, standing by, unsheathed + his sword with a shriek: ‘Die, perjured traitor!’ and ran Sotillo clean + through the body, just before he fell himself shot through the head.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Mitchell stopped for a while. + </p> + <p> + “Begad, sir! I could spin you a yarn for hours. But it’s time we started + off to Rincon. It would not do for you to pass through Sulaco and not see + the lights of the San Tome mine, a whole mountain ablaze like a lighted + palace above the dark Campo. It’s a fashionable drive. . . . But let me + tell you one little anecdote, sir; just to show you. A fortnight or more + later, when Barrios, declared Generalissimo, was gone in pursuit of + Pedrito away south, when the Provisional Junta, with Don Juste Lopez at + its head, had promulgated the new Constitution, and our Don Carlos Gould + was packing up his trunks bound on a mission to San Francisco and + Washington (the United States, sir, were the first great power to + recognize the Occidental Republic)—a fortnight later, I say, when we + were beginning to feel that our heads were safe on our shoulders, if I may + express myself so, a prominent man, a large shipper by our line, came to + see me on business, and, says he, the first thing: ‘I say, Captain + Mitchell, is that fellow’ (meaning Nostromo) ‘still the Capataz of your + Cargadores or not?’ ‘What’s the matter?’ says I. ‘Because, if he is, then + I don’t mind; I send and receive a good lot of cargo by your ships; but I + have observed him several days loafing about the wharf, and just now he + stopped me as cool as you please, with a request for a cigar. Now, you + know, my cigars are rather special, and I can’t get them so easily as all + that.’ ‘I hope you stretched a point,’ I said, very gently. ‘Why, yes. But + it’s a confounded nuisance. The fellow’s everlastingly cadging for + smokes.’ Sir, I turned my eyes away, and then asked, ‘Weren’t you one of + the prisoners in the Cabildo?’ ‘You know very well I was, and in chains, + too,’ says he. ‘And under a fine of fifteen thousand dollars?’ He + coloured, sir, because it got about that he fainted from fright when they + came to arrest him, and then behaved before Fuentes in a manner to make + the very policianos, who had dragged him there by the hair of his head, + smile at his cringing. ‘Yes,’ he says, in a sort of shy way. ‘Why?’ ‘Oh, + nothing. You stood to lose a tidy bit,’ says I, ‘even if you saved your + life. . . . But what can I do for you?’ He never even saw the point. Not + he. And that’s how the world wags, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He rose a little stiffly, and the drive to Rincon would be taken with only + one philosophical remark, uttered by the merciless cicerone, with his eyes + fixed upon the lights of San Tome, that seemed suspended in the dark night + between earth and heaven. + </p> + <p> + “A great power, this, for good and evil, sir. A great power.” + </p> + <p> + And the dinner of the Mirliflores would be eaten, excellent as to cooking, + and leaving upon the traveller’s mind an impression that there were in + Sulaco many pleasant, able young men with salaries apparently too large + for their discretion, and amongst them a few, mostly Anglo-Saxon, skilled + in the art of, as the saying is, “taking a rise” out of his kind host. + </p> + <p> + With a rapid, jingling drive to the harbour in a two-wheeled machine + (which Captain Mitchell called a curricle) behind a fleet and scraggy mule + beaten all the time by an obviously Neapolitan driver, the cycle would be + nearly closed before the lighted-up offices of the O. S. N. Company, + remaining open so late because of the steamer. Nearly—but not quite. + </p> + <p> + “Ten o’clock. Your ship won’t be ready to leave till half-past twelve, if + by then. Come in for a brandy-and-soda and one more cigar.” + </p> + <p> + And in the superintendent’s private room the privileged passenger by the + Ceres, or Juno, or Pallas, stunned and as it were annihilated mentally by + a sudden surfeit of sights, sounds, names, facts, and complicated + information imperfectly apprehended, would listen like a tired child to a + fairy tale; would hear a voice, familiar and surprising in its + pompousness, tell him, as if from another world, how there was “in this + very harbour” an international naval demonstration, which put an end to + the Costaguana-Sulaco War. How the United States cruiser, Powhattan, was + the first to salute the Occidental flag—white, with a wreath of + green laurel in the middle encircling a yellow amarilla flower. Would hear + how General Montero, in less than a month after proclaiming himself + Emperor of Costaguana, was shot dead (during a solemn and public + distribution of orders and crosses) by a young artillery officer, the + brother of his then mistress. + </p> + <p> + “The abominable Pedrito, sir, fled the country,” the voice would say. And + it would continue: “A captain of one of our ships told me lately that he + recognized Pedrito the Guerrillero, arrayed in purple slippers and a + velvet smoking-cap with a gold tassel, keeping a disorderly house in one + of the southern ports.” + </p> + <p> + “Abominable Pedrito! Who the devil was he?” would wonder the distinguished + bird of passage hovering on the confines of waking and sleep with + resolutely open eyes and a faint but amiable curl upon his lips, from + between which stuck out the eighteenth or twentieth cigar of that + memorable day. + </p> + <p> + “He appeared to me in this very room like a haunting ghost, sir”—Captain + Mitchell was talking of his Nostromo with true warmth of feeling and a + touch of wistful pride. “You may imagine, sir, what an effect it produced + on me. He had come round by sea with Barrios, of course. And the first + thing he told me after I became fit to hear him was that he had picked up + the lighter’s boat floating in the gulf! He seemed quite overcome by the + circumstance. And a remarkable enough circumstance it was, when you + remember that it was then sixteen days since the sinking of the silver. At + once I could see he was another man. He stared at the wall, sir, as if + there had been a spider or something running about there. The loss of the + silver preyed on his mind. The first thing he asked me about was whether + Dona Antonia had heard yet of Decoud’s death. His voice trembled. I had to + tell him that Dona Antonia, as a matter of fact, was not back in town yet. + Poor girl! And just as I was making ready to ask him a thousand questions, + with a sudden, ‘Pardon me, senor,’ he cleared out of the office + altogether. I did not see him again for three days. I was terribly busy, + you know. It seems that he wandered about in and out of the town, and on + two nights turned up to sleep in the baracoons of the railway people. He + seemed absolutely indifferent to what went on. I asked him on the wharf, + ‘When are you going to take hold again, Nostromo? There will be plenty of + work for the Cargadores presently.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Senor,’ says he, looking at me in a slow, inquisitive manner, ‘would it + surprise you to hear that I am too tired to work just yet? And what work + could I do now? How can I look my Cargadores in the face after losing a + lighter?’ + </p> + <p> + “I begged him not to think any more about the silver, and he smiled. A + smile that went to my heart, sir. ‘It was no mistake,’ I told him. ‘It was + a fatality. A thing that could not be helped.’ ‘Si, si!” he said, and + turned away. I thought it best to leave him alone for a bit to get over + it. Sir, it took him years really, to get over it. I was present at his + interview with Don Carlos. I must say that Gould is rather a cold man. He + had to keep a tight hand on his feelings, dealing with thieves and + rascals, in constant danger of ruin for himself and wife for so many + years, that it had become a second nature. They looked at each other for a + long time. Don Carlos asked what he could do for him, in his quiet, + reserved way. + </p> + <p> + “‘My name is known from one end of Sulaco to the other,’ he said, as quiet + as the other. ‘What more can you do for me?’ That was all that passed on + that occasion. Later, however, there was a very fine coasting schooner for + sale, and Mrs. Gould and I put our heads together to get her bought and + presented to him. It was done, but he paid all the price back within the + next three years. Business was booming all along this seaboard, sir. + Moreover, that man always succeeded in everything except in saving the + silver. Poor Dona Antonia, fresh from her terrible experiences in the + woods of Los Hatos, had an interview with him, too. Wanted to hear about + Decoud: what they said, what they did, what they thought up to the last on + that fatal night. Mrs. Gould told me his manner was perfect for quietness + and sympathy. Miss Avellanos burst into tears only when he told her how + Decoud had happened to say that his plan would be a glorious success. . . + . And there’s no doubt, sir, that it is. It is a success.” + </p> + <p> + The cycle was about to close at last. And while the privileged passenger, + shivering with the pleasant anticipations of his berth, forgot to ask + himself, “What on earth Decoud’s plan could be?” Captain Mitchell was + saying, “Sorry we must part so soon. Your intelligent interest made this a + pleasant day to me. I shall see you now on board. You had a glimpse of the + ‘Treasure House of the World.’ A very good name that.” And the coxswain’s + voice at the door, announcing that the gig was ready, closed the cycle. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo had, indeed, found the lighter’s boat, which he had left on the + Great Isabel with Decoud, floating empty far out in the gulf. He was then + on the bridge of the first of Barrios’s transports, and within an hour’s + steaming from Sulaco. Barrios, always delighted with a feat of daring and + a good judge of courage, had taken a great liking to the Capataz. During + the passage round the coast the General kept Nostromo near his person, + addressing him frequently in that abrupt and boisterous manner which was + the sign of his high favour. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo’s eyes were the first to catch, broad on the bow, the tiny, + elusive dark speck, which, alone with the forms of the Three Isabels right + ahead, appeared on the flat, shimmering emptiness of the gulf. There are + times when no fact should be neglected as insignificant; a small boat so + far from the land might have had some meaning worth finding out. At a nod + of consent from Barrios the transport swept out of her course, passing + near enough to ascertain that no one manned the little cockle-shell. It + was merely a common small boat gone adrift with her oars in her. But + Nostromo, to whose mind Decoud had been insistently present for days, had + long before recognized with excitement the dinghy of the lighter. + </p> + <p> + There could be no question of stopping to pick up that thing. Every minute + of time was momentous with the lives and futures of a whole town. The head + of the leading ship, with the General on board, fell off to her course. + Behind her, the fleet of transports, scattered haphazard over a mile or so + in the offing, like the finish of an ocean race, pressed on, all black and + smoking on the western sky. + </p> + <p> + “Mi General,” Nostromo’s voice rang out loud, but quiet, from behind a + group of officers, “I should like to save that little boat. Por Dios, I + know her. She belongs to my Company.” + </p> + <p> + “And, por Dios,” guffawed Barrios, in a noisy, good-humoured voice, “you + belong to me. I am going to make you a captain of cavalry directly we get + within sight of a horse again.” + </p> + <p> + “I can swim far better than I can ride, mi General,” cried Nostromo, + pushing through to the rail with a set stare in his eyes. “Let me——” + </p> + <p> + “Let you? What a conceited fellow that is,” bantered the General, + jovially, without even looking at him. “Let him go! Ha! ha! ha! He wants + me to admit that we cannot take Sulaco without him! Ha! ha! ha! Would you + like to swim off to her, my son?” + </p> + <p> + A tremendous shout from one end of the ship to the other stopped his + guffaw. Nostromo had leaped overboard; and his black head bobbed up far + away already from the ship. The General muttered an appalled “Cielo! + Sinner that I am!” in a thunderstruck tone. One anxious glance was enough + to show him that Nostromo was swimming with perfect ease; and then he + thundered terribly, “No! no! We shall not stop to pick up this impertinent + fellow. Let him drown—that mad Capataz.” + </p> + <p> + Nothing short of main force would have kept Nostromo from leaping + overboard. That empty boat, coming out to meet him mysteriously, as if + rowed by an invisible spectre, exercised the fascination of some sign, of + some warning, seemed to answer in a startling and enigmatic way the + persistent thought of a treasure and of a man’s fate. He would have leaped + if there had been death in that half-mile of water. It was as smooth as a + pond, and for some reason sharks are unknown in the Placid Gulf, though on + the other side of the Punta Mala the coastline swarms with them. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz seized hold of the stern and blew with force. A queer, faint + feeling had come over him while he swam. He had got rid of his boots and + coat in the water. He hung on for a time, regaining his breath. In the + distance the transports, more in a bunch now, held on straight for Sulaco, + with their air of friendly contest, of nautical sport, of a regatta; and + the united smoke of their funnels drove like a thin, sulphurous fogbank + right over his head. It was his daring, his courage, his act that had set + these ships in motion upon the sea, hurrying on to save the lives and + fortunes of the Blancos, the taskmasters of the people; to save the San + Tome mine; to save the children. + </p> + <p> + With a vigorous and skilful effort he clambered over the stern. The very + boat! No doubt of it; no doubt whatever. It was the dinghy of the lighter + No. 3—the dinghy left with Martin Decoud on the Great Isabel so that + he should have some means to help himself if nothing could be done for him + from the shore. And here she had come out to meet him empty and + inexplicable. What had become of Decoud? The Capataz made a minute + examination. He looked for some scratch, for some mark, for some sign. All + he discovered was a brown stain on the gunwale abreast of the thwart. He + bent his face over it and rubbed hard with his finger. Then he sat down in + the stern sheets, passive, with his knees close together and legs aslant. + </p> + <p> + Streaming from head to foot, with his hair and whiskers hanging lank and + dripping and a lustreless stare fixed upon the bottom boards, the Capataz + of the Sulaco Cargadores resembled a drowned corpse come up from the + bottom to idle away the sunset hour in a small boat. The excitement of his + adventurous ride, the excitement of the return in time, of achievement, of + success, all this excitement centred round the associated ideas of the + great treasure and of the only other man who knew of its existence, had + departed from him. To the very last moment he had been cudgelling his + brains as to how he could manage to visit the Great Isabel without loss of + time and undetected. For the idea of secrecy had come to be connected with + the treasure so closely that even to Barrios himself he had refrained from + mentioning the existence of Decoud and of the silver on the island. The + letters he carried to the General, however, made brief mention of the loss + of the lighter, as having its bearing upon the situation in Sulaco. In the + circumstances, the one-eyed tiger-slayer, scenting battle from afar, had + not wasted his time in making inquiries from the messenger. In fact, + Barrios, talking with Nostromo, assumed that both Don Martin Decoud and + the ingots of San Tome were lost together, and Nostromo, not questioned + directly, had kept silent, under the influence of some indefinable form of + resentment and distrust. Let Don Martin speak of everything with his own + lips—was what he told himself mentally. + </p> + <p> + And now, with the means of gaining the Great Isabel thrown thus in his way + at the earliest possible moment, his excitement had departed, as when the + soul takes flight leaving the body inert upon an earth it knows no more. + Nostromo did not seem to know the gulf. For a long time even his eyelids + did not flutter once upon the glazed emptiness of his stare. Then slowly, + without a limb having stirred, without a twitch of muscle or quiver of an + eyelash, an expression, a living expression came upon the still features, + deep thought crept into the empty stare—as if an outcast soul, a + quiet, brooding soul, finding that untenanted body in its way, had come in + stealthily to take possession. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz frowned: and in the immense stillness of sea, islands, and + coast, of cloud forms on the sky and trails of light upon the water, the + knitting of that brow had the emphasis of a powerful gesture. Nothing else + budged for a long time; then the Capataz shook his head and again + surrendered himself to the universal repose of all visible things. + Suddenly he seized the oars, and with one movement made the dinghy spin + round, head-on to the Great Isabel. But before he began to pull he bent + once more over the brown stain on the gunwale. + </p> + <p> + “I know that thing,” he muttered to himself, with a sagacious jerk of the + head. “That’s blood.” + </p> + <p> + His stroke was long, vigorous, and steady. Now and then he looked over his + shoulder at the Great Isabel, presenting its low cliff to his anxious gaze + like an impenetrable face. At last the stem touched the strand. He flung + rather than dragged the boat up the little beach. At once, turning his + back upon the sunset, he plunged with long strides into the ravine, making + the water of the stream spurt and fly upwards at every step, as if + spurning its shallow, clear, murmuring spirit with his feet. He wanted to + save every moment of daylight. + </p> + <p> + A mass of earth, grass, and smashed bushes had fallen down very naturally + from above upon the cavity under the leaning tree. Decoud had attended to + the concealment of the silver as instructed, using the spade with some + intelligence. But Nostromo’s half-smile of approval changed into a + scornful curl of the lip by the sight of the spade itself flung there in + full view, as if in utter carelessness or sudden panic, giving away the + whole thing. Ah! They were all alike in their folly, these hombres finos + that invented laws and governments and barren tasks for the people. + </p> + <p> + The Capataz picked up the spade, and with the feel of the handle in his + palm the desire of having a look at the horse-hide boxes of treasure came + upon him suddenly. In a very few strokes he uncovered the edges and + corners of several; then, clearing away more earth, became aware that one + of them had been slashed with a knife. + </p> + <p> + He exclaimed at that discovery in a stifled voice, and dropped on his + knees with a look of irrational apprehension over one shoulder, then over + the other. The stiff hide had closed, and he hesitated before he pushed + his hand through the long slit and felt the ingots inside. There they + were. One, two, three. Yes, four gone. Taken away. Four ingots. But who? + Decoud? Nobody else. And why? For what purpose? For what cursed fancy? Let + him explain. Four ingots carried off in a boat, and—blood! + </p> + <p> + In the face of the open gulf, the sun, clear, unclouded, unaltered, + plunged into the waters in a grave and untroubled mystery of + self-immolation consummated far from all mortal eyes, with an infinite + majesty of silence and peace. Four ingots short!—and blood! + </p> + <p> + The Capataz got up slowly. + </p> + <p> + “He might simply have cut his hand,” he muttered. “But, then——” + </p> + <p> + He sat down on the soft earth, unresisting, as if he had been chained to + the treasure, his drawn-up legs clasped in his hands with an air of + hopeless submission, like a slave set on guard. Once only he lifted his + head smartly: the rattle of hot musketry fire had reached his ears, like + pouring from on high a stream of dry peas upon a drum. After listening for + a while, he said, half aloud— + </p> + <p> + “He will never come back to explain.” + </p> + <p> + And he lowered his head again. + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” he muttered, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + The sounds of firing died out. The loom of a great conflagration in Sulaco + flashed up red above the coast, played on the clouds at the head of the + gulf, seemed to touch with a ruddy and sinister reflection the forms of + the Three Isabels. He never saw it, though he raised his head. + </p> + <p> + “But, then, I cannot know,” he pronounced, distinctly, and remained silent + and staring for hours. + </p> + <p> + He could not know. Nobody was to know. As might have been supposed, the + end of Don Martin Decoud never became a subject of speculation for any one + except Nostromo. Had the truth of the facts been known, there would always + have remained the question. Why? Whereas the version of his death at the + sinking of the lighter had no uncertainty of motive. The young apostle of + Separation had died striving for his idea by an ever-lamented accident. + But the truth was that he died from solitude, the enemy known but to few + on this earth, and whom only the simplest of us are fit to withstand. The + brilliant Costaguanero of the boulevards had died from solitude and want + of faith in himself and others. + </p> + <p> + For some good and valid reasons beyond mere human comprehension, the + sea-birds of the gulf shun the Isabels. The rocky head of Azuera is their + haunt, whose stony levels and chasms resound with their wild and + tumultuous clamour as if they were for ever quarrelling over the legendary + treasure. + </p> + <p> + At the end of his first day on the Great Isabel, Decoud, turning in his + lair of coarse grass, under the shade of a tree, said to himself— + </p> + <p> + “I have not seen as much as one single bird all day.” + </p> + <p> + And he had not heard a sound, either, all day but that one now of his own + muttering voice. It had been a day of absolute silence—the first he + had known in his life. And he had not slept a wink. Not for all these + wakeful nights and the days of fighting, planning, talking; not for all + that last night of danger and hard physical toil upon the gulf, had he + been able to close his eyes for a moment. And yet from sunrise to sunset + he had been lying prone on the ground, either on his back or on his face. + </p> + <p> + He stretched himself, and with slow steps descended into the gully to + spend the night by the side of the silver. If Nostromo returned—as + he might have done at any moment—it was there that he would look + first; and night would, of course, be the proper time for an attempt to + communicate. He remembered with profound indifference that he had not + eaten anything yet since he had been left alone on the island. + </p> + <p> + He spent the night open-eyed, and when the day broke he ate something with + the same indifference. The brilliant “Son Decoud,” the spoiled darling of + the family, the lover of Antonia and journalist of Sulaco, was not fit to + grapple with himself single-handed. Solitude from mere outward condition + of existence becomes very swiftly a state of soul in which the + affectations of irony and scepticism have no place. It takes possession of + the mind, and drives forth the thought into the exile of utter unbelief. + After three days of waiting for the sight of some human face, Decoud + caught himself entertaining a doubt of his own individuality. It had + merged into the world of cloud and water, of natural forces and forms of + nature. In our activity alone do we find the sustaining illusion of an + independent existence as against the whole scheme of things of which we + form a helpless part. Decoud lost all belief in the reality of his action + past and to come. On the fifth day an immense melancholy descended upon + him palpably. He resolved not to give himself up to these people in + Sulaco, who had beset him, unreal and terrible, like jibbering and obscene + spectres. He saw himself struggling feebly in their midst, and Antonia, + gigantic and lovely like an allegorical statue, looking on with scornful + eyes at his weakness. + </p> + <p> + Not a living being, not a speck of distant sail, appeared within the range + of his vision; and, as if to escape from this solitude, he absorbed + himself in his melancholy. The vague consciousness of a misdirected life + given up to impulses whose memory left a bitter taste in his mouth was the + first moral sentiment of his manhood. But at the same time he felt no + remorse. What should he regret? He had recognized no other virtue than + intelligence, and had erected passions into duties. Both his intelligence + and his passion were swallowed up easily in this great unbroken solitude + of waiting without faith. Sleeplessness had robbed his will of all energy, + for he had not slept seven hours in the seven days. His sadness was the + sadness of a sceptical mind. He beheld the universe as a succession of + incomprehensible images. Nostromo was dead. Everything had failed + ignominiously. He no longer dared to think of Antonia. She had not + survived. But if she survived he could not face her. And all exertion + seemed senseless. + </p> + <p> + On the tenth day, after a night spent without even dozing off once (it had + occurred to him that Antonia could not possibly have ever loved a being so + impalpable as himself), the solitude appeared like a great void, and the + silence of the gulf like a tense, thin cord to which he hung suspended by + both hands, without fear, without surprise, without any sort of emotion + whatever. Only towards the evening, in the comparative relief of coolness, + he began to wish that this cord would snap. He imagined it snapping with a + report as of a pistol—a sharp, full crack. And that would be the end + of him. He contemplated that eventuality with pleasure, because he dreaded + the sleepless nights in which the silence, remaining unbroken in the shape + of a cord to which he hung with both hands, vibrated with senseless + phrases, always the same but utterly incomprehensible, about Nostromo, + Antonia, Barrios, and proclamations mingled into an ironical and senseless + buzzing. In the daytime he could look at the silence like a still cord + stretched to breaking-point, with his life, his vain life, suspended to it + like a weight. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder whether I would hear it snap before I fell,” he asked himself. + </p> + <p> + The sun was two hours above the horizon when he got up, gaunt, dirty, + white-faced, and looked at it with his red-rimmed eyes. His limbs obeyed + him slowly, as if full of lead, yet without tremor; and the effect of that + physical condition gave to his movements an unhesitating, deliberate + dignity. He acted as if accomplishing some sort of rite. He descended into + the gully; for the fascination of all that silver, with its potential + power, survived alone outside of himself. He picked up the belt with the + revolver, that was lying there, and buckled it round his waist. The cord + of silence could never snap on the island. It must let him fall and sink + into the sea, he thought. And sink! He was looking at the loose earth + covering the treasure. In the sea! His aspect was that of a somnambulist. + He lowered himself down on his knees slowly and went on grubbing with his + fingers with industrious patience till he uncovered one of the boxes. + Without a pause, as if doing some work done many times before, he slit it + open and took four ingots, which he put in his pockets. He covered up the + exposed box again and step by step came out of the gully. The bushes + closed after him with a swish. + </p> + <p> + It was on the third day of his solitude that he had dragged the dinghy + near the water with an idea of rowing away somewhere, but had desisted + partly at the whisper of lingering hope that Nostromo would return, partly + from conviction of utter uselessness of all effort. Now she wanted only a + slight shove to be set afloat. He had eaten a little every day after the + first, and had some muscular strength left yet. Taking up the oars slowly, + he pulled away from the cliff of the Great Isabel, that stood behind him + warm with sunshine, as if with the heat of life, bathed in a rich light + from head to foot as if in a radiance of hope and joy. He pulled straight + towards the setting sun. When the gulf had grown dark, he ceased rowing + and flung the sculls in. The hollow clatter they made in falling was the + loudest noise he had ever heard in his life. It was a revelation. It + seemed to recall him from far away, Actually the thought, “Perhaps I may + sleep to-night,” passed through his mind. But he did not believe it. He + believed in nothing; and he remained sitting on the thwart. + </p> + <p> + The dawn from behind the mountains put a gleam into his unwinking eyes. + After a clear daybreak the sun appeared splendidly above the peaks of the + range. The great gulf burst into a glitter all around the boat; and in + this glory of merciless solitude the silence appeared again before him, + stretched taut like a dark, thin string. + </p> + <p> + His eyes looked at it while, without haste, he shifted his seat from the + thwart to the gunwale. They looked at it fixedly, while his hand, feeling + about his waist, unbuttoned the flap of the leather case, drew the + revolver, cocked it, brought it forward pointing at his breast, pulled the + trigger, and, with convulsive force, sent the still-smoking weapon + hurtling through the air. His eyes looked at it while he fell forward and + hung with his breast on the gunwale and the fingers of his right hand + hooked under the thwart. They looked—— + </p> + <p> + “It is done,” he stammered out, in a sudden flow of blood. His last + thought was: “I wonder how that Capataz died.” The stiffness of the + fingers relaxed, and the lover of Antonia Avellanos rolled overboard + without having heard the cord of silence snap in the solitude of the + Placid Gulf, whose glittering surface remained untroubled by the fall of + his body. + </p> + <p> + A victim of the disillusioned weariness which is the retribution meted out + to intellectual audacity, the brilliant Don Martin Decoud, weighted by the + bars of San Tome silver, disappeared without a trace, swallowed up in the + immense indifference of things. His sleepless, crouching figure was gone + from the side of the San Tome silver; and for a time the spirits of good + and evil that hover near every concealed treasure of the earth might have + thought that this one had been forgotten by all mankind. Then, after a few + days, another form appeared striding away from the setting sun to sit + motionless and awake in the narrow black gully all through the night, in + nearly the same pose, in the same place in which had sat that other + sleepless man who had gone away for ever so quietly in a small boat, about + the time of sunset. And the spirits of good and evil that hover about a + forbidden treasure understood well that the silver of San Tome was + provided now with a faithful and lifelong slave. + </p> + <p> + The magnificent Capataz de Cargadores, victim of the disenchanted vanity + which is the reward of audacious action, sat in the weary pose of a hunted + outcast through a night of sleeplessness as tormenting as any known to + Decoud, his companion in the most desperate affair of his life. And he + wondered how Decoud had died. But he knew the part he had played himself. + First a woman, then a man, abandoned both in their last extremity, for the + sake of this accursed treasure. It was paid for by a soul lost and by a + vanished life. The blank stillness of awe was succeeded by a gust of + immense pride. There was no one in the world but Gian’ Battista Fidanza, + Capataz de Cargadores, the incorruptible and faithful Nostromo, to pay + such a price. + </p> + <p> + He had made up his mind that nothing should be allowed now to rob him of + his bargain. Nothing. Decoud had died. But how? That he was dead he had + not a shadow of a doubt. But four ingots? . . . What for? Did he mean to + come for more—some other time? + </p> + <p> + The treasure was putting forth its latent power. It troubled the clear + mind of the man who had paid the price. He was sure that Decoud was dead. + The island seemed full of that whisper. Dead! Gone! And he caught himself + listening for the swish of bushes and the splash of the footfalls in the + bed of the brook. Dead! The talker, the novio of Dona Antonia! + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” he murmured, with his head on his knees, under the livid clouded + dawn breaking over the liberated Sulaco and upon the gulf as gray as + ashes. “It is to her that he will fly. To her that he will fly!” + </p> + <p> + And four ingots! Did he take them in revenge, to cast a spell, like the + angry woman who had prophesied remorse and failure, and yet had laid upon + him the task of saving the children? Well, he had saved the children. He + had defeated the spell of poverty and starvation. He had done it all alone—or + perhaps helped by the devil. Who cared? He had done it, betrayed as he + was, and saving by the same stroke the San Tome mine, which appeared to + him hateful and immense, lording it by its vast wealth over the valour, + the toil, the fidelity of the poor, over war and peace, over the labours + of the town, the sea, and the Campo. + </p> + <p> + The sun lit up the sky behind the peaks of the Cordillera. The Capataz + looked down for a time upon the fall of loose earth, stones, and smashed + bushes, concealing the hiding-place of the silver. + </p> + <p> + “I must grow rich very slowly,” he meditated, aloud. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER ELEVEN + </h2> + <p> + Sulaco outstripped Nostromo’s prudence, growing rich swiftly on the hidden + treasures of the earth, hovered over by the anxious spirits of good and + evil, torn out by the labouring hands of the people. It was like a second + youth, like a new life, full of promise, of unrest, of toil, scattering + lavishly its wealth to the four corners of an excited world. Material + changes swept along in the train of material interests. And other changes + more subtle, outwardly unmarked, affected the minds and hearts of the + workers. Captain Mitchell had gone home to live on his savings invested in + the San Tome mine; and Dr. Monygham had grown older, with his head + steel-grey and the unchanged expression of his face, living on the + inexhaustible treasure of his devotion drawn upon in the secret of his + heart like a store of unlawful wealth. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector-General of State Hospitals (whose maintenance is a charge + upon the Gould Concession), Official Adviser on Sanitation to the + Municipality, Chief Medical Officer of the San Tome Consolidated Mines + (whose territory, containing gold, silver, copper, lead, cobalt, extends + for miles along the foot-hills of the Cordillera), had felt + poverty-stricken, miserable, and starved during the prolonged, second + visit the Goulds paid to Europe and the United States of America. Intimate + of the casa, proved friend, a bachelor without ties and without + establishment (except of the professional sort), he had been asked to take + up his quarters in the Gould house. In the eleven months of their absence + the familiar rooms, recalling at every glance the woman to whom he had + given all his loyalty, had grown intolerable. As the day approached for + the arrival of the mail boat Hermes (the latest addition to the O. S. N. + Co.‘s splendid fleet), the doctor hobbled about more vivaciously, snapped + more sardonically at simple and gentle out of sheer nervousness. + </p> + <p> + He packed up his modest trunk with speed, with fury, with enthusiasm, and + saw it carried out past the old porter at the gate of the Casa Gould with + delight, with intoxication; then, as the hour approached, sitting alone in + the great landau behind the white mules, a little sideways, his drawn-in + face positively venomous with the effort of self-control, and holding a + pair of new gloves in his left hand, he drove to the harbour. + </p> + <p> + His heart dilated within him so, when he saw the Goulds on the deck of the + Hermes, that his greetings were reduced to a casual mutter. Driving back + to town, all three were silent. And in the patio the doctor, in a more + natural manner, said— + </p> + <p> + “I’ll leave you now to yourselves. I’ll call to-morrow if I may?” + </p> + <p> + “Come to lunch, dear Dr. Monygham, and come early,” said Mrs. Gould, in + her travelling dress and her veil down, turning to look at him at the foot + of the stairs; while at the top of the flight the Madonna, in blue robes + and the Child on her arm, seemed to welcome her with an aspect of pitying + tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t expect to find me at home,” Charles Gould warned him. “I’ll be off + early to the mine.” + </p> + <p> + After lunch, Dona Emilia and the senor doctor came slowly through the + inner gateway of the patio. The large gardens of the Casa Gould, + surrounded by high walls, and the red-tile slopes of neighbouring roofs, + lay open before them, with masses of shade under the trees and level + surfaces of sunlight upon the lawns. A triple row of old orange trees + surrounded the whole. Barefooted, brown gardeners, in snowy white shirts + and wide calzoneras, dotted the grounds, squatting over flowerbeds, + passing between the trees, dragging slender India-rubber tubes across the + gravel of the paths; and the fine jets of water crossed each other in + graceful curves, sparkling in the sunshine with a slight pattering noise + upon the bushes, and an effect of showered diamonds upon the grass. + </p> + <p> + Dona Emilia, holding up the train of a clear dress, walked by the side of + Dr. Monygham, in a longish black coat and severe black bow on an + immaculate shirtfront. Under a shady clump of trees, where stood scattered + little tables and wicker easy-chairs, Mrs. Gould sat down in a low and + ample seat. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t go yet,” she said to Dr. Monygham, who was unable to tear himself + away from the spot. His chin nestling within the points of his collar, he + devoured her stealthily with his eyes, which, luckily, were round and hard + like clouded marbles, and incapable of disclosing his sentiments. His + pitying emotion at the marks of time upon the face of that woman, the air + of frailty and weary fatigue that had settled upon the eyes and temples of + the “Never-tired Senora” (as Don Pepe years ago used to call her with + admiration), touched him almost to tears. “Don’t go yet. To-day is all my + own,” Mrs. Gould urged, gently. “We are not back yet officially. No one + will come. It’s only to-morrow that the windows of the Casa Gould are to + be lit up for a reception.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor dropped into a chair. + </p> + <p> + “Giving a tertulia?” he said, with a detached air. + </p> + <p> + “A simple greeting for all the kind friends who care to come.” + </p> + <p> + “And only to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Charles would be tired out after a day at the mine, and so I——It + would be good to have him to myself for one evening on our return to this + house I love. It has seen all my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes!” snarled the doctor, suddenly. “Women count time from the + marriage feast. Didn’t you live a little before?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but what is there to remember? There were no cares.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould sighed. And as two friends, after a long separation, will + revert to the most agitated period of their lives, they began to talk of + the Sulaco Revolution. It seemed strange to Mrs. Gould that people who had + taken part in it seemed to forget its memory and its lesson. + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” struck in the doctor, “we who played our part in it had our + reward. Don Pepe, though superannuated, still can sit a horse. Barrios is + drinking himself to death in jovial company away somewhere on his + fundacion beyond the Bolson de Tonoro. And the heroic Father Roman—I + imagine the old padre blowing up systematically the San Tome mine, + uttering a pious exclamation at every bang, and taking handfuls of snuff + between the explosions—the heroic Padre Roman says that he is not + afraid of the harm Holroyd’s missionaries can do to his flock, as long as + he is alive.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould shuddered a little at the allusion to the destruction that had + come so near to the San Tome mine. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but you, dear friend?” + </p> + <p> + “I did the work I was fit for.” + </p> + <p> + “You faced the most cruel dangers of all. Something more than death.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Mrs. Gould! Only death—by hanging. And I am rewarded beyond my + deserts.” + </p> + <p> + Noticing Mrs. Gould’s gaze fixed upon him, he dropped his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve made my career—as you see,” said the Inspector-General of + State Hospitals, taking up lightly the lapels of his superfine black coat. + The doctor’s self-respect marked inwardly by the almost complete + disappearance from his dreams of Father Beron appeared visibly in what, by + contrast with former carelessness, seemed an immoderate cult of personal + appearance. Carried out within severe limits of form and colour, and in + perpetual freshness, this change of apparel gave to Dr. Monygham an air at + the same time professional and festive; while his gait and the unchanged + crabbed character of his face acquired from it a startling force of + incongruity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he went on. “We all had our rewards—the engineer-in-chief, + Captain Mitchell——” + </p> + <p> + “We saw him,” interrupted Mrs. Gould, in her charming voice. “The poor + dear man came up from the country on purpose to call on us in our hotel in + London. He comported himself with great dignity, but I fancy he regrets + Sulaco. He rambled feebly about ‘historical events’ till I felt I could + have a cry.” + </p> + <p> + “H’m,” grunted the doctor; “getting old, I suppose. Even Nostromo is + getting older—though he is not changed. And, speaking of that + fellow, I wanted to tell you something——” + </p> + <p> + For some time the house had been full of murmurs, of agitation. Suddenly + the two gardeners, busy with rose trees at the side of the garden arch, + fell upon their knees with bowed heads on the passage of Antonia + Avellanos, who appeared walking beside her uncle. + </p> + <p> + Invested with the red hat after a short visit to Rome, where he had been + invited by the Propaganda, Father Corbelan, missionary to the wild + Indians, conspirator, friend and patron of Hernandez the robber, advanced + with big, slow strides, gaunt and leaning forward, with his powerful hands + clasped behind his back. The first Cardinal-Archbishop of Sulaco had + preserved his fanatical and morose air; the aspect of a chaplain of + bandits. It was believed that his unexpected elevation to the purple was a + counter-move to the Protestant invasion of Sulaco organized by the Holroyd + Missionary Fund. Antonia, the beauty of her face as if a little blurred, + her figure slightly fuller, advanced with her light walk and her high + serenity, smiling from a distance at Mrs. Gould. She had brought her uncle + over to see dear Emilia, without ceremony, just for a moment before the + siesta. + </p> + <p> + When all were seated again, Dr. Monygham, who had come to dislike heartily + everybody who approached Mrs. Gould with any intimacy, kept aside, + pretending to be lost in profound meditation. A louder phrase of Antonia + made him lift his head. + </p> + <p> + “How can we abandon, groaning under oppression, those who have been our + countrymen only a few years ago, who are our countrymen now?” Miss + Avellanos was saying. “How can we remain blind, and deaf without pity to + the cruel wrongs suffered by our brothers? There is a remedy.” + </p> + <p> + “Annex the rest of Costaguana to the order and prosperity of Sulaco,” + snapped the doctor. “There is no other remedy.” + </p> + <p> + “I am convinced, senor doctor,” Antonia said, with the earnest calm of + invincible resolution, “that this was from the first poor Martin’s + intention.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but the material interests will not let you jeopardize their + development for a mere idea of pity and justice,” the doctor muttered + grumpily. “And it is just as well perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal-Archbishop straightened up his gaunt, bony frame. + </p> + <p> + “We have worked for them; we have made them, these material interests of + the foreigners,” the last of the Corbelans uttered in a deep, denunciatory + tone. + </p> + <p> + “And without them you are nothing,” cried the doctor from the distance. + “They will not let you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let them beware, then, lest the people, prevented from their aspirations, + should rise and claim their share of the wealth and their share of the + power,” the popular Cardinal-Archbishop of Sulaco declared, significantly, + menacingly. + </p> + <p> + A silence ensued, during which his Eminence stared, frowning at the + ground, and Antonia, graceful and rigid in her chair, breathed calmly in + the strength of her convictions. Then the conversation took a social turn, + touching on the visit of the Goulds to Europe. The Cardinal-Archbishop, + when in Rome, had suffered from neuralgia in the head all the time. It was + the climate—the bad air. + </p> + <p> + When uncle and niece had gone away, with the servants again falling on + their knees, and the old porter, who had known Henry Gould, almost totally + blind and impotent now, creeping up to kiss his Eminence’s extended hand, + Dr. Monygham, looking after them, pronounced the one word— + </p> + <p> + “Incorrigible!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould, with a look upwards, dropped wearily on her lap her white + hands flashing with the gold and stones of many rings. + </p> + <p> + “Conspiring. Yes!” said the doctor. “The last of the Avellanos and the + last of the Corbelans are conspiring with the refugees from Sta. Marta + that flock here after every revolution. The Cafe Lambroso at the corner of + the Plaza is full of them; you can hear their chatter across the street + like the noise of a parrot-house. They are conspiring for the invasion of + Costaguana. And do you know where they go for strength, for the necessary + force? To the secret societies amongst immigrants and natives, where + Nostromo—I should say Captain Fidanza—is the great man. What + gives him that position? Who can say? Genius? He has genius. He is greater + with the populace than ever he was before. It is as if he had some secret + power; some mysterious means to keep up his influence. He holds + conferences with the Archbishop, as in those old days which you and I + remember. Barrios is useless. But for a military head they have the pious + Hernandez. And they may raise the country with the new cry of the wealth + for the people.” + </p> + <p> + “Will there be never any peace? Will there be no rest?” Mrs. Gould + whispered. “I thought that we——” + </p> + <p> + “No!” interrupted the doctor. “There is no peace and no rest in the + development of material interests. They have their law, and their justice. + But it is founded on expediency, and is inhuman; it is without rectitude, + without the continuity and the force that can be found only in a moral + principle. Mrs. Gould, the time approaches when all that the Gould + Concession stands for shall weigh as heavily upon the people as the + barbarism, cruelty, and misrule of a few years back.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you say that, Dr. Monygham?” she cried out, as if hurt in the + most sensitive place of her soul. + </p> + <p> + “I can say what is true,” the doctor insisted, obstinately. “It’ll weigh + as heavily, and provoke resentment, bloodshed, and vengeance, because the + men have grown different. Do you think that now the mine would march upon + the town to save their Senor Administrador? Do you think that?” + </p> + <p> + She pressed the backs of her entwined hands on her eyes and murmured + hopelessly— + </p> + <p> + “Is it this we have worked for, then?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor lowered his head. He could follow her silent thought. Was it + for this that her life had been robbed of all the intimate felicities of + daily affection which her tenderness needed as the human body needs air to + breathe? And the doctor, indignant with Charles Gould’s blindness, + hastened to change the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “It is about Nostromo that I wanted to talk to you. Ah! that fellow has + some continuity and force. Nothing will put an end to him. But never mind + that. There’s something inexplicable going on—or perhaps only too + easy to explain. You know, Linda is practically the lighthouse keeper of + the Great Isabel light. The Garibaldino is too old now. His part is to + clean the lamps and to cook in the house; but he can’t get up the stairs + any longer. The black-eyed Linda sleeps all day and watches the light all + night. Not all day, though. She is up towards five in the afternoon, when + our Nostromo, whenever he is in harbour with his schooner, comes out on + his courting visit, pulling in a small boat.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t they married yet?” Mrs. Gould asked. “The mother wished it, as far + as I can understand, while Linda was yet quite a child. When I had the + girls with me for a year or so during the War of Separation, that + extraordinary Linda used to declare quite simply that she was going to be + Gian’ Battista’s wife.” + </p> + <p> + “They are not married yet,” said the doctor, curtly. “I have looked after + them a little.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, dear Dr. Monygham,” said Mrs. Gould; and under the shade of + the big trees her little, even teeth gleamed in a youthful smile of gentle + malice. “People don’t know how really good you are. You will not let them + know, as if on purpose to annoy me, who have put my faith in your good + heart long ago.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor, with a lifting up of his upper lip, as though he were longing + to bite, bowed stiffly in his chair. With the utter absorption of a man to + whom love comes late, not as the most splendid of illusions, but like an + enlightening and priceless misfortune, the sight of that woman (of whom he + had been deprived for nearly a year) suggested ideas of adoration, of + kissing the hem of her robe. And this excess of feeling translated itself + naturally into an augmented grimness of speech. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid of being overwhelmed by too much gratitude. However, these + people interest me. I went out several times to the Great Isabel light to + look after old Giorgio.” + </p> + <p> + He did not tell Mrs. Gould that it was because he found there, in her + absence, the relief of an atmosphere of congenial sentiment in old + Giorgio’s austere admiration for the “English signora—the + benefactress”; in black-eyed Linda’s voluble, torrential, passionate + affection for “our Dona Emilia—that angel”; in the white-throated, + fair Giselle’s adoring upward turn of the eyes, which then glided towards + him with a sidelong, half-arch, half-candid glance, which made the doctor + exclaim to himself mentally, “If I weren’t what I am, old and ugly, I + would think the minx is making eyes at me. And perhaps she is. I dare say + she would make eyes at anybody.” Dr. Monygham said nothing of this to Mrs. + Gould, the providence of the Viola family, but reverted to what he called + “our great Nostromo.” + </p> + <p> + “What I wanted to tell you is this: Our great Nostromo did not take much + notice of the old man and the children for some years. It’s true, too, + that he was away on his coasting voyages certainly ten months out of the + twelve. He was making his fortune, as he told Captain Mitchell once. He + seems to have done uncommonly well. It was only to be expected. He is a + man full of resource, full of confidence in himself, ready to take chances + and risks of every sort. I remember being in Mitchell’s office one day, + when he came in with that calm, grave air he always carries everywhere. He + had been away trading in the Gulf of California, he said, looking straight + past us at the wall, as his manner is, and was glad to see on his return + that a lighthouse was being built on the cliff of the Great Isabel. Very + glad, he repeated. Mitchell explained that it was the O. S. N. Co. who was + building it, for the convenience of the mail service, on his own advice. + Captain Fidanza was good enough to say that it was excellent advice. I + remember him twisting up his moustaches and looking all round the cornice + of the room before he proposed that old Giorgio should be made the keeper + of that light.” + </p> + <p> + “I heard of this. I was consulted at the time,” Mrs. Gould said. “I + doubted whether it would be good for these girls to be shut up on that + island as if in a prison.” + </p> + <p> + “The proposal fell in with the old Garibaldino’s humour. As to Linda, any + place was lovely and delightful enough for her as long as it was + Nostromo’s suggestion. She could wait for her Gian’ Battista’s good + pleasure there as well as anywhere else. My opinion is that she was always + in love with that incorruptible Capataz. Moreover, both father and sister + were anxious to get Giselle away from the attentions of a certain + Ramirez.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Mrs. Gould, interested. “Ramirez? What sort of man is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Just a mozo of the town. His father was a Cargador. As a lanky boy he ran + about the wharf in rags, till Nostromo took him up and made a man of him. + When he got a little older, he put him into a lighter and very soon gave + him charge of the No. 3 boat—the boat which took the silver away, + Mrs. Gould. Nostromo selected that lighter for the work because she was + the best sailing and the strongest boat of all the Company’s fleet. Young + Ramirez was one of the five Cargadores entrusted with the removal of the + treasure from the Custom House on that famous night. As the boat he had + charge of was sunk, Nostromo, on leaving the Company’s service, + recommended him to Captain Mitchell for his successor. He had trained him + in the routine of work perfectly, and thus Mr. Ramirez, from a starving + waif, becomes a man and the Capataz of the Sulaco Cargadores.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks to Nostromo,” said Mrs. Gould, with warm approval. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks to Nostromo,” repeated Dr. Monygham. “Upon my word, the fellow’s + power frightens me when I think of it. That our poor old Mitchell was only + too glad to appoint somebody trained to the work, who saved him trouble, + is not surprising. What is wonderful is the fact that the Sulaco + Cargadores accepted Ramirez for their chief, simply because such was + Nostromo’s good pleasure. Of course, he is not a second Nostromo, as he + fondly imagined he would be; but still, the position was brilliant enough. + It emboldened him to make up to Giselle Viola, who, you know, is the + recognized beauty of the town. The old Garibaldino, however, took a + violent dislike to him. I don’t know why. Perhaps because he was not a + model of perfection like his Gian’ Battista, the incarnation of the + courage, the fidelity, the honour of ‘the people.’ Signor Viola does not + think much of Sulaco natives. Both of them, the old Spartan and that + white-faced Linda, with her red mouth and coal-black eyes, were looking + rather fiercely after the fair one. Ramirez was warned off. Father Viola, + I am told, threatened him with his gun once.” + </p> + <p> + “But what of Giselle herself?” asked Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “She’s a bit of a flirt, I believe,” said the doctor. “I don’t think she + cared much one way or another. Of course she likes men’s attentions. + Ramirez was not the only one, let me tell you, Mrs. Gould. There was one + engineer, at least, on the railway staff who got warned off with a gun, + too. Old Viola does not allow any trifling with his honour. He has grown + uneasy and suspicious since his wife died. He was very pleased to remove + his youngest girl away from the town. But look what happens, Mrs. Gould. + Ramirez, the honest, lovelorn swain, is forbidden the island. Very well. + He respects the prohibition, but naturally turns his eyes frequently + towards the Great Isabel. It seems as though he had been in the habit of + gazing late at night upon the light. And during these sentimental vigils + he discovers that Nostromo, Captain Fidanza that is, returns very late + from his visits to the Violas. As late as midnight at times.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor paused and stared meaningly at Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But I don’t understand,” she began, looking puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Now comes the strange part,” went on Dr. Monygham. “Viola, who is king on + his island, will allow no visitor on it after dark. Even Captain Fidanza + has got to leave after sunset, when Linda has gone up to tend the light. + And Nostromo goes away obediently. But what happens afterwards? What does + he do in the gulf between half-past six and midnight? He has been seen + more than once at that late hour pulling quietly into the harbour. Ramirez + is devoured by jealousy. He dared not approach old Viola; but he plucked + up courage to rail at Linda about it on Sunday morning as she came on the + mainland to hear mass and visit her mother’s grave. There was a scene on + the wharf, which, as a matter of fact, I witnessed. It was early morning. + He must have been waiting for her on purpose. I was there by the merest + chance, having been called to an urgent consultation by the doctor of the + German gunboat in the harbour. She poured wrath, scorn, and flame upon + Ramirez, who seemed out of his mind. It was a strange sight, Mrs. Gould: + the long jetty, with this raving Cargador in his crimson sash and the girl + all in black, at the end; the early Sunday morning quiet of the harbour in + the shade of the mountains; nothing but a canoe or two moving between the + ships at anchor, and the German gunboat’s gig coming to take me off. Linda + passed me within a foot. I noticed her wild eyes. I called out to her. She + never heard me. She never saw me. But I looked at her face. It was awful + in its anger and wretchedness.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould sat up, opening her eyes very wide. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Dr. Monygham? Do you mean to say that you suspect the + younger sister?” + </p> + <p> + “Quien sabe! Who can tell?” said the doctor, shrugging his shoulders like + a born Costaguanero. “Ramirez came up to me on the wharf. He reeled—he + looked insane. He took his head into his hands. He had to talk to someone—simply + had to. Of course for all his mad state he recognized me. People know me + well here. I have lived too long amongst them to be anything else but the + evil-eyed doctor, who can cure all the ills of the flesh, and bring bad + luck by a glance. He came up to me. He tried to be calm. He tried to make + it out that he wanted merely to warn me against Nostromo. It seems that + Captain Fidanza at some secret meeting or other had mentioned me as the + worst despiser of all the poor—of the people. It’s very possible. He + honours me with his undying dislike. And a word from the great Fidanza may + be quite enough to send some fool’s knife into my back. The Sanitary + Commission I preside over is not in favour with the populace. ‘Beware of + him, senor doctor. Destroy him, senor doctor,’ Ramirez hissed right into + my face. And then he broke out. ‘That man,’ he spluttered, ‘has cast a + spell upon both these girls.’ As to himself, he had said too much. He must + run away now—run away and hide somewhere. He moaned tenderly about + Giselle, and then called her names that cannot be repeated. If he thought + she could be made to love him by any means, he would carry her off from + the island. Off into the woods. But it was no good. . . . He strode away, + flourishing his arms above his head. Then I noticed an old negro, who had + been sitting behind a pile of cases, fishing from the wharf. He wound up + his lines and slunk away at once. But he must have heard something, and + must have talked, too, because some of the old Garibaldino’s railway + friends, I suppose, warned him against Ramirez. At any rate, the father + has been warned. But Ramirez has disappeared from the town.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel I have a duty towards these girls,” said Mrs. Gould, uneasily. “Is + Nostromo in Sulaco now?” + </p> + <p> + “He is, since last Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “He ought to be spoken to—at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Who will dare speak to him? Even the love-mad Ramirez runs away from the + mere shadow of Captain Fidanza.” + </p> + <p> + “I can. I will,” Mrs. Gould declared. “A word will be enough for a man + like Nostromo.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor smiled sourly. + </p> + <p> + “He must end this situation which lends itself to——I can’t + believe it of that child,” pursued Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “He’s very attractive,” muttered the doctor, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “He’ll see it, I am sure. He must put an end to all this by marrying Linda + at once,” pronounced the first lady of Sulaco with immense decision. + </p> + <p> + Through the garden gate emerged Basilio, grown fat and sleek, with an + elderly hairless face, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and his + jet-black, coarse hair plastered down smoothly. Stooping carefully behind + an ornamental clump of bushes, he put down with precaution a small child + he had been carrying on his shoulder—his own and Leonarda’s last + born. The pouting, spoiled Camerista and the head mozo of the Casa Gould + had been married for some years now. + </p> + <p> + He remained squatting on his heels for a time, gazing fondly at his + offspring, which returned his stare with imperturbable gravity; then, + solemn and respectable, walked down the path. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Basilio?” asked Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “A telephone came through from the office of the mine. The master remains + to sleep at the mountain to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham had got up and stood looking away. A profound silence reigned + for a time under the shade of the biggest trees in the lovely gardens of + the Casa Gould. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Basilio,” said Mrs. Gould. She watched him walk away along the + path, step aside behind the flowering bush, and reappear with the child + seated on his shoulder. He passed through the gateway between the garden + and the patio with measured steps, careful of his light burden. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, with his back to Mrs. Gould, contemplated a flower-bed away in + the sunshine. People believed him scornful and soured. The truth of his + nature consisted in his capacity for passion and in the sensitiveness of + his temperament. What he lacked was the polished callousness of men of the + world, the callousness from which springs an easy tolerance for oneself + and others; the tolerance wide as poles asunder from true sympathy and + human compassion. This want of callousness accounted for his sardonic turn + of mind and his biting speeches. + </p> + <p> + In profound silence, and glaring viciously at the brilliant flower-bed, + Dr. Monygham poured mental imprecations on Charles Gould’s head. Behind + him the immobility of Mrs. Gould added to the grace of her seated figure + the charm of art, of an attitude caught and interpreted for ever. Turning + abruptly, the doctor took his leave. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould leaned back in the shade of the big trees planted in a circle. + She leaned back with her eyes closed and her white hands lying idle on the + arms of her seat. The half-light under the thick mass of leaves brought + out the youthful prettiness of her face; made the clear, light fabrics and + white lace of her dress appear luminous. Small and dainty, as if radiating + a light of her own in the deep shade of the interlaced boughs, she + resembled a good fairy, weary with a long career of well-doing, touched by + the withering suspicion of the uselessness of her labours, the + powerlessness of her magic. + </p> + <p> + Had anybody asked her of what she was thinking, alone in the garden of the + Casa, with her husband at the mine and the house closed to the street like + an empty dwelling, her frankness would have had to evade the question. It + had come into her mind that for life to be large and full, it must contain + the care of the past and of the future in every passing moment of the + present. Our daily work must be done to the glory of the dead, and for the + good of those who come after. She thought that, and sighed without opening + her eyes—without moving at all. Mrs. Gould’s face became set and + rigid for a second, as if to receive, without flinching, a great wave of + loneliness that swept over her head. And it came into her mind, too, that + no one would ever ask her with solicitude what she was thinking of. No + one. No one, but perhaps the man who had just gone away. No; no one who + could be answered with careless sincerity in the ideal perfection of + confidence. + </p> + <p> + The word “incorrigible”—a word lately pronounced by Dr. Monygham—floated + into her still and sad immobility. Incorrigible in his devotion to the + great silver mine was the Senor Administrador! Incorrigible in his hard, + determined service of the material interests to which he had pinned his + faith in the triumph of order and justice. Poor boy! She had a clear + vision of the grey hairs on his temples. He was perfect—perfect. + What more could she have expected? It was a colossal and lasting success; + and love was only a short moment of forgetfulness, a short intoxication, + whose delight one remembered with a sense of sadness, as if it had been a + deep grief lived through. There was something inherent in the necessities + of successful action which carried with it the moral degradation of the + idea. She saw the San Tome mountain hanging over the Campo, over the whole + land, feared, hated, wealthy; more soulless than any tyrant, more pitiless + and autocratic than the worst Government; ready to crush innumerable lives + in the expansion of its greatness. He did not see it. He could not see it. + It was not his fault. He was perfect, perfect; but she would never have + him to herself. Never; not for one short hour altogether to herself in + this old Spanish house she loved so well! Incorrigible, the last of the + Corbelans, the last of the Avellanos, the doctor had said; but she saw + clearly the San Tome mine possessing, consuming, burning up the life of + the last of the Costaguana Goulds; mastering the energetic spirit of the + son as it had mastered the lamentable weakness of the father. A terrible + success for the last of the Goulds. The last! She had hoped for a long, + long time, that perhaps——But no! There were to be no more. An + immense desolation, the dread of her own continued life, descended upon + the first lady of Sulaco. With a prophetic vision she saw herself + surviving alone the degradation of her young ideal of life, of love, of + work—all alone in the Treasure House of the World. The profound, + blind, suffering expression of a painful dream settled on her face with + its closed eyes. In the indistinct voice of an unlucky sleeper lying + passive in the grip of a merciless nightmare, she stammered out aimlessly + the words— + </p> + <p> + “Material interest.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER TWELVE + </h2> + <p> + Nostromo had been growing rich very slowly. It was an effect of his + prudence. He could command himself even when thrown off his balance. And + to become the slave of a treasure with full self-knowledge is an + occurrence rare and mentally disturbing. But it was also in a great part + because of the difficulty of converting it into a form in which it could + become available. The mere act of getting it away from the island + piecemeal, little by little, was surrounded by difficulties, by the + dangers of imminent detection. He had to visit the Great Isabel in secret, + between his voyages along the coast, which were the ostensible source of + his fortune. The crew of his own schooner were to be feared as if they had + been spies upon their dreaded captain. He did not dare stay too long in + port. When his coaster was unloaded, he hurried away on another trip, for + he feared arousing suspicion even by a day’s delay. Sometimes during a + week’s stay, or more, he could only manage one visit to the treasure. And + that was all. A couple of ingots. He suffered through his fears as much as + through his prudence. To do things by stealth humiliated him. And he + suffered most from the concentration of his thought upon the treasure. + </p> + <p> + A transgression, a crime, entering a man’s existence, eats it up like a + malignant growth, consumes it like a fever. Nostromo had lost his peace; + the genuineness of all his qualities was destroyed. He felt it himself, + and often cursed the silver of San Tome. His courage, his magnificence, + his leisure, his work, everything was as before, only everything was a + sham. But the treasure was real. He clung to it with a more tenacious, + mental grip. But he hated the feel of the ingots. Sometimes, after putting + away a couple of them in his cabin—the fruit of a secret night + expedition to the Great Isabel—he would look fixedly at his fingers, + as if surprised they had left no stain on his skin. + </p> + <p> + He had found means of disposing of the silver bars in distant ports. The + necessity to go far afield made his coasting voyages long, and caused his + visits to the Viola household to be rare and far between. He was fated to + have his wife from there. He had said so once to Giorgio himself. But the + Garibaldino had put the subject aside with a majestic wave of his hand, + clutching a smouldering black briar-root pipe. There was plenty of time; + he was not the man to force his girls upon anybody. + </p> + <p> + As time went on, Nostromo discovered his preference for the younger of the + two. They had some profound similarities of nature, which must exist for + complete confidence and understanding, no matter what outward differences + of temperament there may be to exercise their own fascination of contrast. + His wife would have to know his secret or else life would be impossible. + He was attracted by Giselle, with her candid gaze and white throat, + pliable, silent, fond of excitement under her quiet indolence; whereas + Linda, with her intense, passionately pale face, energetic, all fire and + words, touched with gloom and scorn, a chip of the old block, true + daughter of the austere republican, but with Teresa’s voice, inspired him + with a deep-seated mistrust. Moreover, the poor girl could not conceal her + love for Gian’ Battista. He could see it would be violent, exacting, + suspicious, uncompromising—like her soul. Giselle, by her fair but + warm beauty, by the surface placidity of her nature holding a promise of + submissiveness, by the charm of her girlish mysteriousness, excited his + passion and allayed his fears as to the future. + </p> + <p> + His absences from Sulaco were long. On returning from the longest of them, + he made out lighters loaded with blocks of stone lying under the cliff of + the Great Isabel; cranes and scaffolding above; workmen’s figures moving + about, and a small lighthouse already rising from its foundations on the + edge of the cliff. + </p> + <p> + At this unexpected, undreamt-of, startling sight, he thought himself lost + irretrievably. What could save him from detection now? Nothing! He was + struck with amazed dread at this turn of chance, that would kindle a + far-reaching light upon the only secret spot of his life; that life whose + very essence, value, reality, consisted in its reflection from the + admiring eyes of men. All of it but that thing which was beyond common + comprehension; which stood between him and the power that hears and gives + effect to the evil intention of curses. It was dark. Not every man had + such a darkness. And they were going to put a light there. A light! He saw + it shining upon disgrace, poverty, contempt. Somebody was sure to. . . . + Perhaps somebody had already. . . . + </p> + <p> + The incomparable Nostromo, the Capataz, the respected and feared Captain + Fidanza, the unquestioned patron of secret societies, a republican like + old Giorgio, and a revolutionist at heart (but in another manner), was on + the point of jumping overboard from the deck of his own schooner. That + man, subjective almost to insanity, looked suicide deliberately in the + face. But he never lost his head. He was checked by the thought that this + was no escape. He imagined himself dead, and the disgrace, the shame going + on. Or, rather, properly speaking, he could not imagine himself dead. He + was possessed too strongly by the sense of his own existence, a thing of + infinite duration in its changes, to grasp the notion of finality. The + earth goes on for ever. + </p> + <p> + And he was courageous. It was a corrupt courage, but it was as good for + his purposes as the other kind. He sailed close to the cliff of the Great + Isabel, throwing a penetrating glance from the deck at the mouth of the + ravine, tangled in an undisturbed growth of bushes. He sailed close enough + to exchange hails with the workmen, shading their eyes on the edge of the + sheer drop of the cliff overhung by the jib-head of a powerful crane. He + perceived that none of them had any occasion even to approach the ravine + where the silver lay hidden; let alone to enter it. In the harbour he + learned that no one slept on the island. The labouring gangs returned to + port every evening, singing chorus songs in the empty lighters towed by a + harbour tug. For the moment he had nothing to fear. + </p> + <p> + But afterwards? he asked himself. Later, when a keeper came to live in the + cottage that was being built some hundred and fifty yards back from the + low lighttower, and four hundred or so from the dark, shaded, jungly + ravine, containing the secret of his safety, of his influence, of his + magnificence, of his power over the future, of his defiance of ill-luck, + of every possible betrayal from rich and poor alike—what then? He + could never shake off the treasure. His audacity, greater than that of + other men, had welded that vein of silver into his life. And the feeling + of fearful and ardent subjection, the feeling of his slavery—so + irremediable and profound that often, in his thoughts, he compared himself + to the legendary Gringos, neither dead nor alive, bound down to their + conquest of unlawful wealth on Azuera—weighed heavily on the + independent Captain Fidanza, owner and master of a coasting schooner, + whose smart appearance (and fabulous good-luck in trading) were so well + known along the western seaboard of a vast continent. + </p> + <p> + Fiercely whiskered and grave, a shade less supple in his walk, the vigour + and symmetry of his powerful limbs lost in the vulgarity of a brown tweed + suit, made by Jews in the slums of London, and sold by the clothing + department of the Compania Anzani, Captain Fidanza was seen in the streets + of Sulaco attending to his business, as usual, that trip. And, as usual, + he allowed it to get about that he had made a great profit on his cargo. + It was a cargo of salt fish, and Lent was approaching. He was seen in + tramcars going to and fro between the town and the harbour; he talked with + people in a cafe or two in his measured, steady voice. Captain Fidanza was + seen. The generation that would know nothing of the famous ride to Cayta + was not born yet. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo, the miscalled Capataz de Cargadores, had made for himself, under + his rightful name, another public existence, but modified by the new + conditions, less picturesque, more difficult to keep up in the increased + size and varied population of Sulaco, the progressive capital of the + Occidental Republic. + </p> + <p> + Captain Fidanza, unpicturesque, but always a little mysterious, was + recognized quite sufficiently under the lofty glass and iron roof of the + Sulaco railway station. He took a local train, and got out in Rincon, + where he visited the widow of the Cargador who had died of his wounds (at + the dawn of the New Era, like Don Jose Avellanos) in the patio of the Casa + Gould. He consented to sit down and drink a glass of cool lemonade in the + hut, while the woman, standing up, poured a perfect torrent of words to + which he did not listen. He left some money with her, as usual. The + orphaned children, growing up and well schooled, calling him uncle, + clamoured for his blessing. He gave that, too; and in the doorway paused + for a moment to look at the flat face of the San Tome mountain with a + faint frown. This slight contraction of his bronzed brow casting a marked + tinge of severity upon his usual unbending expression, was observed at the + Lodge which he attended—but went away before the banquet. He wore it + at the meeting of some good comrades, Italians and Occidentals, assembled + in his honour under the presidency of an indigent, sickly, somewhat + hunchbacked little photographer, with a white face and a magnanimous soul + dyed crimson by a bloodthirsty hate of all capitalists, oppressors of the + two hemispheres. The heroic Giorgio Viola, old revolutionist, would have + understood nothing of his opening speech; and Captain Fidanza, lavishly + generous as usual to some poor comrades, made no speech at all. He had + listened, frowning, with his mind far away, and walked off unapproachable, + silent, like a man full of cares. + </p> + <p> + His frown deepened as, in the early morning, he watched the stone-masons + go off to the Great Isabel, in lighters loaded with squared blocks of + stone, enough to add another course to the squat light-tower. That was the + rate of the work. One course per day. + </p> + <p> + And Captain Fidanza meditated. The presence of strangers on the island + would cut him completely off the treasure. It had been difficult and + dangerous enough before. He was afraid, and he was angry. He thought with + the resolution of a master and the cunning of a cowed slave. Then he went + ashore. + </p> + <p> + He was a man of resource and ingenuity; and, as usual, the expedient he + found at a critical moment was effective enough to alter the situation + radically. He had the gift of evolving safety out of the very danger, this + incomparable Nostromo, this “fellow in a thousand.” With Giorgio + established on the Great Isabel, there would be no need for concealment. + He would be able to go openly, in daylight, to see his daughters—one + of his daughters—and stay late talking to the old Garibaldino. Then + in the dark . . . Night after night . . . He would dare to grow rich + quicker now. He yearned to clasp, embrace, absorb, subjugate in + unquestioned possession this treasure, whose tyranny had weighed upon his + mind, his actions, his very sleep. + </p> + <p> + He went to see his friend Captain Mitchell—and the thing was done as + Dr. Monygham had related to Mrs. Gould. When the project was mooted to the + Garibaldino, something like the faint reflection, the dim ghost of a very + ancient smile, stole under the white and enormous moustaches of the old + hater of kings and ministers. His daughters were the object of his anxious + care. The younger, especially. Linda, with her mother’s voice, had taken + more her mother’s place. Her deep, vibrating “Eh, Padre?” seemed, but for + the change of the word, the very echo of the impassioned, remonstrating + “Eh, Giorgio?” of poor Signora Teresa. It was his fixed opinion that the + town was no proper place for his girls. The infatuated but guileless + Ramirez was the object of his profound aversion, as resuming the sins of + the country whose people were blind, vile esclavos. + </p> + <p> + On his return from his next voyage, Captain Fidanza found the Violas + settled in the light-keeper’s cottage. His knowledge of Giorgio’s + idiosyncrasies had not played him false. The Garibaldino had refused to + entertain the idea of any companion whatever, except his girls. And + Captain Mitchell, anxious to please his poor Nostromo, with that felicity + of inspiration which only true affection can give, had formally appointed + Linda Viola as under-keeper of the Isabel’s Light. + </p> + <p> + “The light is private property,” he used to explain. “It belongs to my + Company. I’ve the power to nominate whom I like, and Viola it shall be. + It’s about the only thing Nostromo—a man worth his weight in gold, + mind you—has ever asked me to do for him.” + </p> + <p> + Directly his schooner was anchored opposite the New Custom House, with its + sham air of a Greek temple, flatroofed, with a colonnade, Captain Fidanza + went pulling his small boat out of the harbour, bound for the Great + Isabel, openly in the light of a declining day, before all men’s eyes, + with a sense of having mastered the fates. He must establish a regular + position. He would ask him for his daughter now. He thought of Giselle as + he pulled. Linda loved him, perhaps, but the old man would be glad to keep + the elder, who had his wife’s voice. + </p> + <p> + He did not pull for the narrow strand where he had landed with Decoud, and + afterwards alone on his first visit to the treasure. He made for the beach + at the other end, and walked up the regular and gentle slope of the + wedge-shaped island. Giorgio Viola, whom he saw from afar, sitting on a + bench under the front wall of the cottage, lifted his arm slightly to his + loud hail. He walked up. Neither of the girls appeared. + </p> + <p> + “It is good here,” said the old man, in his austere, far-away manner. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo nodded; then, after a short silence— + </p> + <p> + “You saw my schooner pass in not two hours ago? Do you know why I am here + before, so to speak, my anchor has fairly bitten into the ground of this + port of Sulaco?” + </p> + <p> + “You are welcome like a son,” the old man declared, quietly, staring away + upon the sea. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! thy son. I know. I am what thy son would have been. It is well, + viejo. It is a very good welcome. Listen, I have come to ask you for——” + </p> + <p> + A sudden dread came upon the fearless and incorruptible Nostromo. He dared + not utter the name in his mind. The slight pause only imparted a marked + weight and solemnity to the changed end of the phrase. + </p> + <p> + “For my wife!” . . . His heart was beating fast. “It is time you——” + </p> + <p> + The Garibaldino arrested him with an extended arm. “That was left for you + to judge.” + </p> + <p> + He got up slowly. His beard, unclipped since Teresa’s death, thick, + snow-white, covered his powerful chest. He turned his head to the door, + and called out in his strong voice— + </p> + <p> + “Linda.” + </p> + <p> + Her answer came sharp and faint from within; and the appalled Nostromo + stood up, too, but remained mute, gazing at the door. He was afraid. He + was not afraid of being refused the girl he loved—no mere refusal + could stand between him and a woman he desired—but the shining + spectre of the treasure rose before him, claiming his allegiance in a + silence that could not be gainsaid. He was afraid, because, neither dead + nor alive, like the Gringos on Azuera, he belonged body and soul to the + unlawfulness of his audacity. He was afraid of being forbidden the island. + He was afraid, and said nothing. + </p> + <p> + Seeing the two men standing up side by side to await her, Linda stopped in + the doorway. Nothing could alter the passionate dead whiteness of her + face; but her black eyes seemed to catch and concentrate all the light of + the low sun in a flaming spark within the black depths, covered at once by + the slow descent of heavy eyelids. + </p> + <p> + “Behold thy husband, master, and benefactor.” Old Viola’s voice resounded + with a force that seemed to fill the whole gulf. + </p> + <p> + She stepped forward with her eyes nearly closed, like a sleep-walker in a + beatific dream. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo made a superhuman effort. “It is time, Linda, we two were + betrothed,” he said, steadily, in his level, careless, unbending tone. + </p> + <p> + She put her hand into his offered palm, lowering her head, dark with + bronze glints, upon which her father’s hand rested for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “And so the soul of the dead is satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + This came from Giorgio Viola, who went on talking for a while of his dead + wife; while the two, sitting side by side, never looked at each other. + Then the old man ceased; and Linda, motionless, began to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Ever since I felt I lived in the world, I have lived for you alone, Gian’ + Battista. And that you knew! You knew it . . . Battistino.” + </p> + <p> + She pronounced the name exactly with her mother’s intonation. A gloom as + of the grave covered Nostromo’s heart. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I knew,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The heroic Garibaldino sat on the same bench bowing his hoary head, his + old soul dwelling alone with its memories, tender and violent, terrible + and dreary—solitary on the earth full of men. + </p> + <p> + And Linda, his best-loved daughter, was saying, “I was yours ever since I + can remember. I had only to think of you for the earth to become empty to + my eyes. When you were there, I could see no one else. I was yours. + Nothing is changed. The world belongs to you, and you let me live in it.” + . . . She dropped her low, vibrating voice to a still lower note, and + found other things to say—torturing for the man at her side. Her + murmur ran on ardent and voluble. She did not seem to see her sister, who + came out with an altar-cloth she was embroidering in her hands, and passed + in front of them, silent, fresh, fair, with a quick glance and a faint + smile, to sit a little away on the other side of Nostromo. + </p> + <p> + The evening was still. The sun sank almost to the edge of a purple ocean; + and the white lighthouse, livid against the background of clouds filling + the head of the gulf, bore the lantern red and glowing, like a live ember + kindled by the fire of the sky. Giselle, indolent and demure, raised the + altar-cloth from time to time to hide nervous yawns, as of a young + panther. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Linda rushed at her sister, and seizing her head, covered her + face with kisses. Nostromo’s brain reeled. When she left her, as if + stunned by the violent caresses, with her hands lying in her lap, the + slave of the treasure felt as if he could shoot that woman. Old Giorgio + lifted his leonine head. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Linda?” + </p> + <p> + “To the light, padre mio.” + </p> + <p> + “Si, si—to your duty.” + </p> + <p> + He got up, too, looked after his eldest daughter; then, in a tone whose + festive note seemed the echo of a mood lost in the night of ages— + </p> + <p> + “I am going in to cook something. Aha! Son! The old man knows where to + find a bottle of wine, too.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to Giselle, with a change to austere tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “And you, little one, pray not to the God of priests and slaves, but to + the God of orphans, of the oppressed, of the poor, of little children, to + give thee a man like this one for a husband.” + </p> + <p> + His hand rested heavily for a moment on Nostromo’s shoulder; then he went + in. The hopeless slave of the San Tome silver felt at these words the + venomous fangs of jealousy biting deep into his heart. He was appalled by + the novelty of the experience, by its force, by its physical intimacy. A + husband! A husband for her! And yet it was natural that Giselle should + have a husband at some time or other. He had never realized that before. + In discovering that her beauty could belong to another he felt as though + he could kill this one of old Giorgio’s daughters also. He muttered + moodily— + </p> + <p> + “They say you love Ramirez.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head without looking at him. Coppery glints rippled to and + fro on the wealth of her gold hair. Her smooth forehead had the soft, pure + sheen of a priceless pearl in the splendour of the sunset, mingling the + gloom of starry spaces, the purple of the sea, and the crimson of the sky + in a magnificent stillness. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, slowly. “I never loved him. I think I never . . . He loves + me—perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + The seduction of her slow voice died out of the air, and her raised eyes + remained fixed on nothing, as if indifferent and without thought. + </p> + <p> + “Ramirez told you he loved you?” asked Nostromo, restraining himself. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! once—one evening . . .” + </p> + <p> + “The miserable . . . Ha!” + </p> + <p> + He had jumped up as if stung by a gad-fly, and stood before her mute with + anger. + </p> + <p> + “Misericordia Divina! You, too, Gian’ Battista! Poor wretch that I am!” + she lamented in ingenuous tones. “I told Linda, and she scolded—she + scolded. Am I to live blind, dumb, and deaf in this world? And she told + father, who took down his gun and cleaned it. Poor Ramirez! Then you came, + and she told you.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her. He fastened his eyes upon the hollow of her white + throat, which had the invincible charm of things young, palpitating, + delicate, and alive. Was this the child he had known? Was it possible? It + dawned upon him that in these last years he had really seen very little—nothing—of + her. Nothing. She had come into the world like a thing unknown. She had + come upon him unawares. She was a danger. A frightful danger. The + instinctive mood of fierce determination that had never failed him before + the perils of this life added its steady force to the violence of his + passion. She, in a voice that recalled to him the song of running water, + the tinkling of a silver bell, continued— + </p> + <p> + “And between you three you have brought me here into this captivity to the + sky and water. Nothing else. Sky and water. Oh, Sanctissima Madre. My hair + shall turn grey on this tedious island. I could hate you, Gian’ Battista!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed loudly. Her voice enveloped him like a caress. She bemoaned her + fate, spreading unconsciously, like a flower its perfume in the coolness + of the evening, the indefinable seduction of her person. Was it her fault + that nobody ever had admired Linda? Even when they were little, going out + with their mother to Mass, she remembered that people took no notice of + Linda, who was fearless, and chose instead to frighten her, who was timid, + with their attention. It was her hair like gold, she supposed. + </p> + <p> + He broke out— + </p> + <p> + “Your hair like gold, and your eyes like violets, and your lips like the + rose; your round arms, your white throat.” . . . + </p> + <p> + Imperturbable in the indolence of her pose, she blushed deeply all over to + the roots of her hair. She was not conceited. She was no more + self-conscious than a flower. But she was pleased. And perhaps even a + flower loves to hear itself praised. He glanced down, and added, + impetuously— + </p> + <p> + “Your little feet!” + </p> + <p> + Leaning back against the rough stone wall of the cottage, she seemed to + bask languidly in the warmth of the rosy flush. Only her lowered eyes + glanced at her little feet. + </p> + <p> + “And so you are going at last to marry our Linda. She is terrible. Ah! now + she will understand better since you have told her you love her. She will + not be so fierce.” + </p> + <p> + “Chica!” said Nostromo, “I have not told her anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Then make haste. Come to-morrow. Come and tell her, so that I may have + some peace from her scolding and—perhaps—who knows . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Be allowed to listen to your Ramirez, eh? Is that it? You . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy of God! How violent you are, Giovanni,” she said, unmoved. “Who is + Ramirez . . . Ramirez . . . Who is he?” she repeated, dreamily, in the + dusk and gloom of the clouded gulf, with a low red streak in the west like + a hot bar of glowing iron laid across the entrance of a world sombre as a + cavern, where the magnificent Capataz de Cargadores had hidden his + conquests of love and wealth. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Giselle,” he said, in measured tones; “I will tell no word of + love to your sister. Do you want to know why?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! I could not understand perhaps, Giovanni. Father says you are not + like other men; that no one had ever understood you properly; that the + rich will be surprised yet. . . . Oh! saints in heaven! I am weary.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her embroidery to conceal the lower part of her face, then let + it fall on her lap. The lantern was shaded on the land side, but slanting + away from the dark column of the lighthouse they could see the long shaft + of light, kindled by Linda, go out to strike the expiring glow in a + horizon of purple and red. + </p> + <p> + Giselle Viola, with her head resting against the wall of the house, her + eyes half closed, and her little feet, in white stockings and black + slippers, crossed over each other, seemed to surrender herself, tranquil + and fatal, to the gathering dusk. The charm of her body, the promising + mysteriousness of her indolence, went out into the night of the Placid + Gulf like a fresh and intoxicating fragrance spreading out in the shadows, + impregnating the air. The incorruptible Nostromo breathed her ambient + seduction in the tumultuous heaving of his breast. Before leaving the + harbour he had thrown off the store clothing of Captain Fidanza, for + greater ease in the long pull out to the islands. He stood before her in + the red sash and check shirt as he used to appear on the Company’s wharf—a + Mediterranean sailor come ashore to try his luck in Costaguana. The dusk + of purple and red enveloped him, too—close, soft, profound, as no + more than fifty yards from that spot it had gathered evening after evening + about the self-destructive passion of Don Martin Decoud’s utter + scepticism, flaming up to death in solitude. + </p> + <p> + “You have got to hear,” he began at last, with perfect self-control. “I + shall say no word of love to your sister, to whom I am betrothed from this + evening, because it is you that I love. It is you!” . . . + </p> + <p> + The dusk let him see yet the tender and voluptuous smile that came + instinctively upon her lips shaped for love and kisses, freeze hard in the + drawn, haggard lines of terror. He could not restrain himself any longer. + While she shrank from his approach, her arms went out to him, abandoned + and regal in the dignity of her languid surrender. He held her head in his + two hands, and showered rapid kisses upon the upturned face that gleamed + in the purple dusk. Masterful and tender, he was entering slowly upon the + fulness of his possession. And he perceived that she was crying. Then the + incomparable Capataz, the man of careless loves, became gentle and + caressing, like a woman to the grief of a child. He murmured to her + fondly. He sat down by her and nursed her fair head on his breast. He + called her his star and his little flower. + </p> + <p> + It had grown dark. From the living-room of the light-keeper’s cottage, + where Giorgio, one of the Immortal Thousand, was bending his leonine and + heroic head over a charcoal fire, there came the sound of sizzling and the + aroma of an artistic frittura. + </p> + <p> + In the obscure disarray of that thing, happening like a cataclysm, it was + in her feminine head that some gleam of reason survived. He was lost to + the world in their embraced stillness. But she said, whispering into his + ear— + </p> + <p> + “God of mercy! What will become of me—here—now—between + this sky and this water I hate? Linda, Linda—I see her!” . . . She + tried to get out of his arms, suddenly relaxed at the sound of that name. + But there was no one approaching their black shapes, enlaced and + struggling on the white background of the wall. “Linda! Poor Linda! I + tremble! I shall die of fear before my poor sister Linda, betrothed to-day + to Giovanni—my lover! Giovanni, you must have been mad! I cannot + understand you! You are not like other men! I will not give you up—never—only + to God himself! But why have you done this blind, mad, cruel, frightful + thing?” + </p> + <p> + Released, she hung her head, let fall her hands. The altar-cloth, as if + tossed by a great wind, lay far away from them, gleaming white on the + black ground. + </p> + <p> + “From fear of losing my hope of you,” said Nostromo. + </p> + <p> + “You knew that you had my soul! You know everything! It was made for you! + But what could stand between you and me? What? Tell me!” she repeated, + without impatience, in superb assurance. + </p> + <p> + “Your dead mother,” he said, very low. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! . . . Poor mother! She has always . . . She is a saint in heaven now, + and I cannot give you up to her. No, Giovanni. Only to God alone. You were + mad—but it is done. Oh! what have you done? Giovanni, my beloved, my + life, my master, do not leave me here in this grave of clouds. You cannot + leave me now. You must take me away—at once—this instant—in + the little boat. Giovanni, carry me off to-night, from my fear of Linda’s + eyes, before I have to look at her again.” + </p> + <p> + She nestled close to him. The slave of the San Tome silver felt the weight + as of chains upon his limbs, a pressure as of a cold hand upon his lips. + He struggled against the spell. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” he said. “Not yet. There is something that stands between us + two and the freedom of the world.” + </p> + <p> + She pressed her form closer to his side with a subtle and naive instinct + of seduction. + </p> + <p> + “You rave, Giovanni—my lover!” she whispered, engagingly. “What can + there be? Carry me off—in thy very hands—to Dona Emilia—away + from here. I am not very heavy.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed as though she expected him to lift her up at once in his two + palms. She had lost the notion of all impossibility. Anything could happen + on this night of wonder. As he made no movement, she almost cried aloud— + </p> + <p> + “I tell you I am afraid of Linda!” And still he did not move. She became + quiet and wily. “What can there be?” she asked, coaxingly. + </p> + <p> + He felt her warm, breathing, alive, quivering in the hollow of his arm. In + the exulting consciousness of his strength, and the triumphant excitement + of his mind, he struck out for his freedom. + </p> + <p> + “A treasure,” he said. All was still. She did not understand. “A treasure. + A treasure of silver to buy a gold crown for thy brow.” + </p> + <p> + “A treasure?” she repeated in a faint voice, as if from the depths of a + dream. “What is it you say?” + </p> + <p> + She disengaged herself gently. He got up and looked down at her, aware of + her face, of her hair, her lips, the dimples on her cheeks—seeing + the fascination of her person in the night of the gulf as if in the blaze + of noonday. Her nonchalant and seductive voice trembled with the + excitement of admiring awe and ungovernable curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “A treasure of silver!” she stammered out. Then pressed on faster: “What? + Where? How did you get it, Giovanni?” + </p> + <p> + He wrestled with the spell of captivity. It was as if striking a heroic + blow that he burst out— + </p> + <p> + “Like a thief!” + </p> + <p> + The densest blackness of the Placid Gulf seemed to fall upon his head. He + could not see her now. She had vanished into a long, obscure abysmal + silence, whence her voice came back to him after a time with a faint + glimmer, which was her face. + </p> + <p> + “I love you! I love you!” + </p> + <p> + These words gave him an unwonted sense of freedom; they cast a spell + stronger than the accursed spell of the treasure; they changed his weary + subjection to that dead thing into an exulting conviction of his power. He + would cherish her, he said, in a splendour as great as Dona Emilia’s. The + rich lived on wealth stolen from the people, but he had taken from the + rich nothing—nothing that was not lost to them already by their + folly and their betrayal. For he had been betrayed—he said—deceived, + tempted. She believed him. . . . He had kept the treasure for purposes of + revenge; but now he cared nothing for it. He cared only for her. He would + put her beauty in a palace on a hill crowned with olive trees—a + white palace above a blue sea. He would keep her there like a jewel in a + casket. He would get land for her—her own land fertile with vines + and corn—to set her little feet upon. He kissed them. . . . He had + already paid for it all with the soul of a woman and the life of a man. . + . . The Capataz de Cargadores tasted the supreme intoxication of his + generosity. He flung the mastered treasure superbly at her feet in the + impenetrable darkness of the gulf, in the darkness defying—as men + said—the knowledge of God and the wit of the devil. But she must let + him grow rich first—he warned her. + </p> + <p> + She listened as if in a trance. Her fingers stirred in his hair. He got up + from his knees reeling, weak, empty, as though he had flung his soul away. + </p> + <p> + “Make haste, then,” she said. “Make haste, Giovanni, my lover, my master, + for I will give thee up to no one but God. And I am afraid of Linda.” + </p> + <p> + He guessed at her shudder, and swore to do his best. He trusted the + courage of her love. She promised to be brave in order to be loved always—far + away in a white palace upon a hill above a blue sea. Then with a timid, + tentative eagerness she murmured— + </p> + <p> + “Where is it? Where? Tell me that, Giovanni.” + </p> + <p> + He opened his mouth and remained silent—thunderstruck. + </p> + <p> + “Not that! Not that!” he gasped out, appalled at the spell of secrecy that + had kept him dumb before so many people falling upon his lips again with + unimpaired force. Not even to her. Not even to her. It was too dangerous. + “I forbid thee to ask,” he cried at her, deadening cautiously the anger of + his voice. + </p> + <p> + He had not regained his freedom. The spectre of the unlawful treasure + arose, standing by her side like a figure of silver, pitiless and secret, + with a finger on its pale lips. His soul died within him at the vision of + himself creeping in presently along the ravine, with the smell of earth, + of damp foliage in his nostrils—creeping in, determined in a purpose + that numbed his breast, and creeping out again loaded with silver, with + his ears alert to every sound. It must be done on this very night—that + work of a craven slave! + </p> + <p> + He stooped low, pressed the hem of her skirt to his lips, with a muttered + command— + </p> + <p> + “Tell him I would not stay,” and was gone suddenly from her, silent, + without as much as a footfall in the dark night. + </p> + <p> + She sat still, her head resting indolently against the wall, and her + little feet in white stockings and black slippers crossed over each other. + Old Giorgio, coming out, did not seem to be surprised at the intelligence + as much as she had vaguely feared. For she was full of inexplicable fear + now—fear of everything and everybody except of her Giovanni and his + treasure. But that was incredible. + </p> + <p> + The heroic Garibaldino accepted Nostromo’s abrupt departure with a + sagacious indulgence. He remembered his own feelings, and exhibited a + masculine penetration of the true state of the case. + </p> + <p> + “Va bene. Let him go. Ha! ha! No matter how fair the woman, it galls a + little. Liberty, liberty. There’s more than one kind! He has said the + great word, and son Gian’ Battista is not tame.” He seemed to be + instructing the motionless and scared Giselle. . . . “A man should not be + tame,” he added, dogmatically out of the doorway. Her stillness and + silence seemed to displease him. “Do not give way to the enviousness of + your sister’s lot,” he admonished her, very grave, in his deep voice. + </p> + <p> + Presently he had to come to the door again to call in his younger + daughter. It was late. He shouted her name three times before she even + moved her head. Left alone, she had become the helpless prey of + astonishment. She walked into the bedroom she shared with Linda like a + person profoundly asleep. That aspect was so marked that even old Giorgio, + spectacled, raising his eyes from the Bible, shook his head as she shut + the door behind her. + </p> + <p> + She walked right across the room without looking at anything, and sat down + at once by the open window. Linda, stealing down from the tower in the + exuberance of her happiness, found her with a lighted candle at her back, + facing the black night full of sighing gusts of wind and the sound of + distant showers—a true night of the gulf, too dense for the eye of + God and the wiles of the devil. She did not turn her head at the opening + of the door. + </p> + <p> + There was something in that immobility which reached Linda in the depths + of her paradise. The elder sister guessed angrily: the child is thinking + of that wretched Ramirez. Linda longed to talk. She said in her arbitrary + voice, “Giselle!” and was not answered by the slightest movement. + </p> + <p> + The girl that was going to live in a palace and walk on ground of her own + was ready to die with terror. Not for anything in the world would she have + turned her head to face her sister. Her heart was beating madly. She said + with subdued haste— + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak to me. I am praying.” + </p> + <p> + Linda, disappointed, went out quietly; and Giselle sat on unbelieving, + lost, dazed, patient, as if waiting for the confirmation of the + incredible. The hopeless blackness of the clouds seemed part of a dream, + too. She waited. + </p> + <p> + She did not wait in vain. The man whose soul was dead within him, creeping + out of the ravine, weighted with silver, had seen the gleam of the lighted + window, and could not help retracing his steps from the beach. + </p> + <p> + On that impenetrable background, obliterating the lofty mountains by the + seaboard, she saw the slave of the San Tome silver, as if by an + extraordinary power of a miracle. She accepted his return as if henceforth + the world could hold no surprise for all eternity. + </p> + <p> + She rose, compelled and rigid, and began to speak long before the light + from within fell upon the face of the approaching man. + </p> + <p> + “You have come back to carry me off. It is well! Open thy arms, Giovanni, + my lover. I am coming.” + </p> + <p> + His prudent footsteps stopped, and with his eyes glistening wildly, he + spoke in a harsh voice: + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. I must grow rich slowly.” . . . A threatening note came into his + tone. “Do not forget that you have a thief for your lover.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes!” she whispered, hastily. “Come nearer! Listen! Do not give me + up, Giovanni! Never, never! . . . I will be patient! . . .” + </p> + <p> + Her form drooped consolingly over the low casement towards the slave of + the unlawful treasure. The light in the room went out, and weighted with + silver, the magnificent Capataz clasped her round her white neck in the + darkness of the gulf as a drowning man clutches at a straw. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THIRTEEN + </h2> + <p> + On the day Mrs. Gould was going, in Dr. Monygham’s words, to “give a + tertulia,” Captain Fidanza went down the side of his schooner lying in + Sulaco harbour, calm, unbending, deliberate in the way he sat down in his + dinghy and took up his sculls. He was later than usual. The afternoon was + well advanced before he landed on the beach of the Great Isabel, and with + a steady pace climbed the slope of the island. + </p> + <p> + From a distance he made out Giselle sitting in a chair tilted back against + the end of the house, under the window of the girl’s room. She had her + embroidery in her hands, and held it well up to her eyes. The tranquillity + of that girlish figure exasperated the feeling of perpetual struggle and + strife he carried in his breast. He became angry. It seemed to him that + she ought to hear the clanking of his fetters—his silver fetters, + from afar. And while ashore that day, he had met the doctor with the evil + eye, who had looked at him very hard. + </p> + <p> + The raising of her eyes mollified him. They smiled in their flower-like + freshness straight upon his heart. Then she frowned. It was a warning to + be cautious. He stopped some distance away, and in a loud, indifferent + tone, said— + </p> + <p> + “Good day, Giselle. Is Linda up yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She is in the big room with father.” + </p> + <p> + He approached then, and, looking through the window into the bedroom for + fear of being detected by Linda returning there for some reason, he said, + moving only his lips— + </p> + <p> + “You love me?” + </p> + <p> + “More than my life.” She went on with her embroidery under his + contemplating gaze and continued to speak, looking at her work, “Or I + could not live. I could not, Giovanni. For this life is like death. Oh, + Giovanni, I shall perish if you do not take me away.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled carelessly. “I will come to the window when it’s dark,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No, don’t, Giovanni. Not-to-night. Linda and father have been talking + together for a long time today.” + </p> + <p> + “What about?” + </p> + <p> + “Ramirez, I fancy I heard. I do not know. I am afraid. I am always afraid. + It is like dying a thousand times a day. Your love is to me like your + treasure to you. It is there, but I can never get enough of it.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her very still. She was beautiful. His desire had grown + within him. He had two masters now. But she was incapable of sustained + emotion. She was sincere in what she said, but she slept placidly at + night. When she saw him she flamed up always. Then only an increased + taciturnity marked the change in her. She was afraid of betraying herself. + She was afraid of pain, of bodily harm, of sharp words, of facing anger, + and witnessing violence. For her soul was light and tender with a pagan + sincerity in its impulses. She murmured— + </p> + <p> + “Give up the palazzo, Giovanni, and the vineyard on the hills, for which + we are starving our love.” + </p> + <p> + She ceased, seeing Linda standing silent at the corner of the house. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo turned to his affianced wife with a greeting, and was amazed at + her sunken eyes, at her hollow cheeks, at the air of illness and anguish + in her face. + </p> + <p> + “Have you been ill?” he asked, trying to put some concern into this + question. + </p> + <p> + Her black eyes blazed at him. “Am I thinner?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—perhaps—a little.” + </p> + <p> + “And older?” + </p> + <p> + “Every day counts—for all of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall go grey, I fear, before the ring is on my finger,” she said, + slowly, keeping her gaze fastened upon him. + </p> + <p> + She waited for what he would say, rolling down her turned-up sleeves. + </p> + <p> + “No fear of that,” he said, absently. + </p> + <p> + She turned away as if it had been something final, and busied herself with + household cares while Nostromo talked with her father. Conversation with + the old Garibaldino was not easy. Age had left his faculties unimpaired, + only they seemed to have withdrawn somewhere deep within him. His answers + were slow in coming, with an effect of august gravity. But that day he was + more animated, quicker; there seemed to be more life in the old lion. He + was uneasy for the integrity of his honour. He believed Sidoni’s warning + as to Ramirez’s designs upon his younger daughter. And he did not trust + her. She was flighty. He said nothing of his cares to “Son Gian’ + Battista.” It was a touch of senile vanity. He wanted to show that he was + equal yet to the task of guarding alone the honour of his house. + </p> + <p> + Nostromo went away early. As soon as he had disappeared, walking towards + the beach, Linda stepped over the threshold and, with a haggard smile, sat + down by the side of her father. + </p> + <p> + Ever since that Sunday, when the infatuated and desperate Ramirez had + waited for her on the wharf, she had no doubts whatever. The jealous + ravings of that man were no revelation. They had only fixed with + precision, as with a nail driven into her heart, that sense of unreality + and deception which, instead of bliss and security, she had found in her + intercourse with her promised husband. She had passed on, pouring + indignation and scorn upon Ramirez; but, that Sunday, she nearly died of + wretchedness and shame, lying on the carved and lettered stone of Teresa’s + grave, subscribed for by the engine-drivers and the fitters of the railway + workshops, in sign of their respect for the hero of Italian Unity. Old + Viola had not been able to carry out his desire of burying his wife in the + sea; and Linda wept upon the stone. + </p> + <p> + The gratuitous outrage appalled her. If he wished to break her heart—well + and good. Everything was permitted to Gian’ Battista. But why trample upon + the pieces; why seek to humiliate her spirit? Aha! He could not break + that. She dried her tears. And Giselle! Giselle! The little one that, ever + since she could toddle, had always clung to her skirt for protection. What + duplicity! But she could not help it probably. When there was a man in the + case the poor featherheaded wretch could not help herself. + </p> + <p> + Linda had a good share of the Viola stoicism. She resolved to say nothing. + But woman-like she put passion into her stoicism. Giselle’s short answers, + prompted by fearful caution, drove her beside herself by their curtness + that resembled disdain. One day she flung herself upon the chair in which + her indolent sister was lying and impressed the mark of her teeth at the + base of the whitest neck in Sulaco. Giselle cried out. But she had her + share of the Viola heroism. Ready to faint with terror, she only said, in + a lazy voice, “Madre de Dios! Are you going to eat me alive, Linda?” And + this outburst passed off leaving no trace upon the situation. “She knows + nothing. She cannot know any thing,” reflected Giselle. “Perhaps it is not + true. It cannot be true,” Linda tried to persuade herself. + </p> + <p> + But when she saw Captain Fidanza for the first time after her meeting with + the distracted Ramirez, the certitude of her misfortune returned. She + watched him from the doorway go away to his boat, asking herself + stoically, “Will they meet to-night?” She made up her mind not to leave + the tower for a second. When he had disappeared she came out and sat down + by her father. + </p> + <p> + The venerable Garibaldino felt, in his own words, “a young man yet.” In + one way or another a good deal of talk about Ramirez had reached him of + late; and his contempt and dislike of that man who obviously was not what + his son would have been, had made him restless. He slept very little now; + but for several nights past instead of reading—or only sitting, with + Mrs. Gould’s silver spectacles on his nose, before the open Bible, he had + been prowling actively all about the island with his old gun, on watch + over his honour. + </p> + <p> + Linda, laying her thin brown hand on his knee, tried to soothe his + excitement. Ramirez was not in Sulaco. Nobody knew where he was. He was + gone. His talk of what he would do meant nothing. + </p> + <p> + “No,” the old man interrupted. “But son Gian’ Battista told me—quite + of himself—that the cowardly esclavo was drinking and gambling with + the rascals of Zapiga, over there on the north side of the gulf. He may + get some of the worst scoundrels of that scoundrelly town of negroes to + help him in his attempt upon the little one. . . . But I am not so old. + No!” + </p> + <p> + She argued earnestly against the probability of any attempt being made; + and at last the old man fell silent, chewing his white moustache. Women + had their obstinate notions which must be humoured—his poor wife was + like that, and Linda resembled her mother. It was not seemly for a man to + argue. “May be. May be,” he mumbled. + </p> + <p> + She was by no means easy in her mind. She loved Nostromo. She turned her + eyes upon Giselle, sitting at a distance, with something of maternal + tenderness, and the jealous anguish of a rival outraged in her defeat. + Then she rose and walked over to her. + </p> + <p> + “Listen—you,” she said, roughly. + </p> + <p> + The invincible candour of the gaze, raised up all violet and dew, excited + her rage and admiration. She had beautiful eyes—the Chica—this + vile thing of white flesh and black deception. She did not know whether + she wanted to tear them out with shouts of vengeance or cover up their + mysterious and shameless innocence with kisses of pity and love. And + suddenly they became empty, gazing blankly at her, except for a little + fear not quite buried deep enough with all the other emotions in Giselle’s + heart. + </p> + <p> + Linda said, “Ramirez is boasting in town that he will carry you off from + the island.” + </p> + <p> + “What folly!” answered the other, and in a perversity born of long + restraint, she added: “He is not the man,” in a jesting tone with a + trembling audacity. + </p> + <p> + “No?” said Linda, through her clenched teeth. “Is he not? Well, then, look + to it; because father has been walking about with a loaded gun at night.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not good for him. You must tell him not to, Linda. He will not + listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall say nothing—never any more—to anybody,” cried Linda, + passionately. + </p> + <p> + This could not last, thought Giselle. Giovanni must take her away soon—the + very next time he came. She would not suffer these terrors for ever so + much silver. To speak with her sister made her ill. But she was not uneasy + at her father’s watchfulness. She had begged Nostromo not to come to the + window that night. He had promised to keep away for this once. And she did + not know, could not guess or imagine, that he had another reason for + coming on the island. + </p> + <p> + Linda had gone straight to the tower. It was time to light up. She + unlocked the little door, and went heavily up the spiral staircase, + carrying her love for the magnificent Capataz de Cargadores like an + ever-increasing load of shameful fetters. No; she could not throw it off. + No; let Heaven dispose of these two. And moving about the lantern, filled + with twilight and the sheen of the moon, with careful movements she + lighted the lamp. Then her arms fell along her body. + </p> + <p> + “And with our mother looking on,” she murmured. “My own sister—the + Chica!” + </p> + <p> + The whole refracting apparatus, with its brass fittings and rings of + prisms, glittered and sparkled like a domeshaped shrine of diamonds, + containing not a lamp, but some sacred flame, dominating the sea. And + Linda, the keeper, in black, with a pale face, drooped low in a wooden + chair, alone with her jealousy, far above the shames and passions of the + earth. A strange, dragging pain as if somebody were pulling her about + brutally by her dark hair with bronze glints, made her put her hands up to + her temples. They would meet. They would meet. And she knew where, too. At + the window. The sweat of torture fell in drops on her cheeks, while the + moonlight in the offing closed as if with a colossal bar of silver the + entrance of the Placid Gulf—the sombre cavern of clouds and + stillness in the surf-fretted seaboard. + </p> + <p> + Linda Viola stood up suddenly with a finger on her lip. He loved neither + her nor her sister. The whole thing seemed so objectless as to frighten + her, and also give her some hope. Why did he not carry her off? What + prevented him? He was incomprehensible. What were they waiting for? For + what end were these two lying and deceiving? Not for the ends of their + love. There was no such thing. The hope of regaining him for herself made + her break her vow of not leaving the tower that night. She must talk at + once to her father, who was wise, and would understand. She ran down the + spiral stairs. At the moment of opening the door at the bottom she heard + the sound of the first shot ever fired on the Great Isabel. + </p> + <p> + She felt a shock, as though the bullet had struck her breast. She ran on + without pausing. The cottage was dark. She cried at the door, “Giselle! + Giselle!” then dashed round the corner and screamed her sister’s name at + the open window, without getting an answer; but as she was rushing, + distracted, round the house, Giselle came out of the door, and darted past + her, running silently, her hair loose, and her eyes staring straight + ahead. She seemed to skim along the grass as if on tiptoe, and vanished. + </p> + <p> + Linda walked on slowly, with her arms stretched out before her. All was + still on the island; she did not know where she was going. The tree under + which Martin Decoud spent his last days, beholding life like a succession + of senseless images, threw a large blotch of black shade upon the grass. + Suddenly she saw her father, standing quietly all alone in the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + The Garibaldino—big, erect, with his snow-white hair and beard—had + a monumental repose in his immobility, leaning upon a rifle. She put her + hand upon his arm lightly. He never stirred. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done?” she asked, in her ordinary voice. + </p> + <p> + “I have shot Ramirez—infame!” he answered, with his eyes directed to + where the shade was blackest. “Like a thief he came, and like a thief he + fell. The child had to be protected.” + </p> + <p> + He did not offer to move an inch, to advance a single step. He stood + there, rugged and unstirring, like a statue of an old man guarding the + honour of his house. Linda removed her trembling hand from his arm, firm + and steady like an arm of stone, and, without a word, entered the + blackness of the shade. She saw a stir of formless shapes on the ground, + and stopped short. A murmur of despair and tears grew louder to her + strained hearing. + </p> + <p> + “I entreated you not to come to-night. Oh, my Giovanni! And you promised. + Oh! Why—why did you come, Giovanni?” + </p> + <p> + It was her sister’s voice. It broke on a heartrending sob. And the voice + of the resourceful Capataz de Cargadores, master and slave of the San Tome + treasure, who had been caught unawares by old Giorgio while stealing + across the open towards the ravine to get some more silver, answered + careless and cool, but sounding startlingly weak from the ground. + </p> + <p> + “It seemed as though I could not live through the night without seeing + thee once more—my star, my little flower.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The brilliant tertulia was just over, the last guests had departed, and + the Senor Administrador had gone to his room already, when Dr. Monygham, + who had been expected in the evening but had not turned up, arrived + driving along the wood-block pavement under the electric-lamps of the + deserted Calle de la Constitucion, and found the great gateway of the Casa + still open. + </p> + <p> + He limped in, stumped up the stairs, and found the fat and sleek Basilio + on the point of turning off the lights in the sala. The prosperous + majordomo remained open-mouthed at this late invasion. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t put out the lights,” commanded the doctor. “I want to see the + senora.” + </p> + <p> + “The senora is in the Senor Adminstrador’s cancillaria,” said Basilio, in + an unctuous voice. “The Senor Administrador starts for the mountain in an + hour. There is some trouble with the workmen to be feared, it appears. A + shameless people without reason and decency. And idle, senor. Idle.” + </p> + <p> + “You are shamelessly lazy and imbecile yourself,” said the doctor, with + that faculty for exasperation which made him so generally beloved. “Don’t + put the lights out.” + </p> + <p> + Basilio retired with dignity. Dr. Monygham, waiting in the brilliantly + lighted sala, heard presently a door close at the further end of the + house. A jingle of spurs died out. The Senor Administrador was off to the + mountain. + </p> + <p> + With a measured swish of her long train, flashing with jewels and the + shimmer of silk, her delicate head bowed as if under the weight of a mass + of fair hair, in which the silver threads were lost, the “first lady of + Sulaco,” as Captain Mitchell used to describe her, moved along the lighted + corredor, wealthy beyond great dreams of wealth, considered, loved, + respected, honoured, and as solitary as any human being had ever been, + perhaps, on this earth. + </p> + <p> + The doctor’s “Mrs. Gould! One minute!” stopped her with a start at the + door of the lighted and empty sala. From the similarity of mood and + circumstance, the sight of the doctor, standing there all alone amongst + the groups of furniture, recalled to her emotional memory her unexpected + meeting with Martin Decoud; she seemed to hear in the silence the voice of + that man, dead miserably so many years ago, pronounce the words, “Antonia + left her fan here.” But it was the doctor’s voice that spoke, a little + altered by his excitement. She remarked his shining eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Gould, you are wanted. Do you know what has happened? You remember + what I told you yesterday about Nostromo. Well, it seems that a lancha, a + decked boat, coming from Zapiga, with four negroes in her, passing close + to the Great Isabel, was hailed from the cliff by a woman’s voice—Linda’s, + as a matter of fact—commanding them (it’s a moonlight night) to go + round to the beach and take up a wounded man to the town. The patron (from + whom I’ve heard all this), of course, did so at once. He told me that when + they got round to the low side of the Great Isabel, they found Linda Viola + waiting for them. They followed her: she led them under a tree not far + from the cottage. There they found Nostromo lying on the ground with his + head in the younger girl’s lap, and father Viola standing some distance + off leaning on his gun. Under Linda’s direction they got a table out of + the cottage for a stretcher, after breaking off the legs. They are here, + Mrs. Gould. I mean Nostromo and—and Giselle. The negroes brought him + in to the first-aid hospital near the harbour. He made the attendant send + for me. But it was not me he wanted to see—it was you, Mrs. Gould! + It was you.” + </p> + <p> + “Me?” whispered Mrs. Gould, shrinking a little. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you!” the doctor burst out. “He begged me—his enemy, as he + thinks—to bring you to him at once. It seems he has something to say + to you alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” murmured Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “He said to me, ‘Remind her that I have done something to keep a roof over + her head.’ . . . Mrs. Gould,” the doctor pursued, in the greatest + excitement. “Do you remember the silver? The silver in the lighter—that + was lost?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould remembered. But she did not say she hated the mere mention of + that silver. Frankness personified, she remembered with an exaggerated + horror that for the first and last time of her life she had concealed the + truth from her husband about that very silver. She had been corrupted by + her fears at that time, and she had never forgiven herself. Moreover, that + silver, which would never have come down if her husband had been made + acquainted with the news brought by Decoud, had been in a roundabout way + nearly the cause of Dr. Monygham’s death. And these things appeared to her + very dreadful. + </p> + <p> + “Was it lost, though?” the doctor exclaimed. “I’ve always felt that there + was a mystery about our Nostromo ever since. I do believe he wants now, at + the point of death——” + </p> + <p> + “The point of death?” repeated Mrs. Gould. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Yes. . . . He wants perhaps to tell you something concerning that + silver which——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! No!” exclaimed Mrs. Gould, in a low voice. “Isn’t it lost and + done with? Isn’t there enough treasure without it to make everybody in the + world miserable?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor remained still, in a submissive, disappointed silence. At last + he ventured, very low— + </p> + <p> + “And there is that Viola girl, Giselle. What are we to do? It looks as + though father and sister had——” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould admitted that she felt in duty bound to do her best for these + girls. + </p> + <p> + “I have a volante here,” the doctor said. “If you don’t mind getting into + that——” + </p> + <p> + He waited, all impatience, till Mrs. Gould reappeared, having thrown over + her dress a grey cloak with a deep hood. + </p> + <p> + It was thus that, cloaked and monastically hooded over her evening + costume, this woman, full of endurance and compassion, stood by the side + of the bed on which the splendid Capataz de Cargadores lay stretched out + motionless on his back. The whiteness of sheets and pillows gave a sombre + and energetic relief to his bronzed face, to the dark, nervous hands, so + good on a tiller, upon a bridle and on a trigger, lying open and idle upon + a white coverlet. + </p> + <p> + “She is innocent,” the Capataz was saying in a deep and level voice, as + though afraid that a louder word would break the slender hold his spirit + still kept upon his body. “She is innocent. It is I alone. But no matter. + For these things I would answer to no man or woman alive.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Mrs. Gould’s face, very white within the shadow of the hood, + bent over him with an invincible and dreary sadness. And the low sobs of + Giselle Viola, kneeling at the end of the bed, her gold hair with coppery + gleams loose and scattered over the Capataz’s feet, hardly troubled the + silence of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Old Giorgio—the guardian of thine honour! Fancy the Vecchio + coming upon me so light of foot, so steady of aim. I myself could have + done no better. But the price of a charge of powder might have been saved. + The honour was safe. . . . Senora, she would have followed to the end of + the world Nostromo the thief. . . . I have said the word. The spell is + broken!” + </p> + <p> + A low moan from the girl made him cast his eyes down. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot see her. . . . No matter,” he went on, with the shadow of the + old magnificent carelessness in his voice. “One kiss is enough, if there + is no time for more. An airy soul, senora! Bright and warm, like sunshine—soon + clouded, and soon serene. They would crush it there between them. Senora, + cast on her the eye of your compassion, as famed from one end of the land + to the other as the courage and daring of the man who speaks to you. She + will console herself in time. And even Ramirez is not a bad fellow. I am + not angry. No! It is not Ramirez who overcame the Capataz of the Sulaco + Cargadores.” He paused, made an effort, and in louder voice, a little + wildly, declared— + </p> + <p> + “I die betrayed—betrayed by——” + </p> + <p> + But he did not say by whom or by what he was dying betrayed. + </p> + <p> + “She would not have betrayed me,” he began again, opening his eyes very + wide. “She was faithful. We were going very far—very soon. I could + have torn myself away from that accursed treasure for her. For that child + I would have left boxes and boxes of it—full. And Decoud took four. + Four ingots. Why? Picardia! To betray me? How could I give back the + treasure with four ingots missing? They would have said I had purloined + them. The doctor would have said that. Alas! it holds me yet!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould bent low, fascinated—cold with apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “What became of Don Martin on that night, Nostromo?” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? I wondered what would become of me. Now I know. Death was to + come upon me unawares. He went away! He betrayed me. And you think I have + killed him! You are all alike, you fine people. The silver has killed me. + It has held me. It holds me yet. Nobody knows where it is. But you are the + wife of Don Carlos, who put it into my hands and said, ‘Save it on your + life.’ And when I returned, and you all thought it was lost, what do I + hear? ‘It was nothing of importance. Let it go. Up, Nostromo, the + faithful, and ride away to save us, for dear life!’” + </p> + <p> + “Nostromo!” Mrs. Gould whispered, bending very low. “I, too, have hated + the idea of that silver from the bottom of my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Marvellous!—that one of you should hate the wealth that you know so + well how to take from the hands of the poor. The world rests upon the + poor, as old Giorgio says. You have been always good to the poor. But + there is something accursed in wealth. Senora, shall I tell you where the + treasure is? To you alone. . . . Shining! Incorruptible!” + </p> + <p> + A pained, involuntary reluctance lingered in his tone, in his eyes, plain + to the woman with the genius of sympathetic intuition. She averted her + glance from the miserable subjection of the dying man, appalled, wishing + to hear no more of the silver. + </p> + <p> + “No, Capataz,” she said. “No one misses it now. Let it be lost for ever.” + </p> + <p> + After hearing these words, Nostromo closed his eyes, uttered no word, made + no movement. Outside the door of the sick-room Dr. Monygham, excited to + the highest pitch, his eyes shining with eagerness, came up to the two + women. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mrs. Gould,” he said, almost brutally in his impatience, “tell me, + was I right? There is a mystery. You have got the word of it, have you + not? He told you——” + </p> + <p> + “He told me nothing,” said Mrs. Gould, steadily. + </p> + <p> + The light of his temperamental enmity to Nostromo went out of Dr. + Monygham’s eyes. He stepped back submissively. He did not believe Mrs. + Gould. But her word was law. He accepted her denial like an inexplicable + fatality affirming the victory of Nostromo’s genius over his own. Even + before that woman, whom he loved with secret devotion, he had been + defeated by the magnificent Capataz de Cargadores, the man who had lived + his own life on the assumption of unbroken fidelity, rectitude, and + courage! + </p> + <p> + “Pray send at once somebody for my carriage,” spoke Mrs. Gould from within + her hood. Then, turning to Giselle Viola, “Come nearer me, child; come + closer. We will wait here.” + </p> + <p> + Giselle Viola, heartbroken and childlike, her face veiled in her falling + hair, crept up to her side. Mrs. Gould slipped her hand through the arm of + the unworthy daughter of old Viola, the immaculate republican, the hero + without a stain. Slowly, gradually, as a withered flower droops, the head + of the girl, who would have followed a thief to the end of the world, + rested on the shoulder of Dona Emilia, the first lady of Sulaco, the wife + of the Senor Administrador of the San Tome mine. And Mrs. Gould, feeling + her suppressed sobbing, nervous and excited, had the first and only moment + of bitterness in her life. It was worthy of Dr. Monygham himself. + </p> + <p> + “Console yourself, child. Very soon he would have forgotten you for his + treasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Senora, he loved me. He loved me,” Giselle whispered, despairingly. “He + loved me as no one had ever been loved before.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been loved, too,” Mrs. Gould said in a severe tone. + </p> + <p> + Giselle clung to her convulsively. “Oh, senora, but you shall live adored + to the end of your life,” she sobbed out. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gould kept an unbroken silence till the carriage arrived. She helped + in the half-fainting girl. After the doctor had shut the door of the + landau, she leaned over to him. + </p> + <p> + “You can do nothing?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “No, Mrs. Gould. Moreover, he won’t let us touch him. It does not matter. + I just had one look. . . . Useless.” + </p> + <p> + But he promised to see old Viola and the other girl that very night. He + could get the police-boat to take him off to the island. He remained in + the street, looking after the landau rolling away slowly behind the white + mules. + </p> + <p> + The rumour of some accident—an accident to Captain Fidanza—had + been spreading along the new quays with their rows of lamps and the dark + shapes of towering cranes. A knot of night prowlers—the poorest of + the poor—hung about the door of the first-aid hospital, whispering + in the moonlight of the empty street. + </p> + <p> + There was no one with the wounded man but the pale photographer, small, + frail, bloodthirsty, the hater of capitalists, perched on a high stool + near the head of the bed with his knees up and his chin in his hands. He + had been fetched by a comrade who, working late on the wharf, had heard + from a negro belonging to a lancha, that Captain Fidanza had been brought + ashore mortally wounded. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any dispositions to make, comrade?” he asked, anxiously. “Do not + forget that we want money for our work. The rich must be fought with their + own weapons.” + </p> + <p> + Nostromo made no answer. The other did not insist, remaining huddled up on + the stool, shock-headed, wildly hairy, like a hunchbacked monkey. Then, + after a long silence— + </p> + <p> + “Comrade Fidanza,” he began, solemnly, “you have refused all aid from that + doctor. Is he really a dangerous enemy of the people?” + </p> + <p> + In the dimly lit room Nostromo rolled his head slowly on the pillow and + opened his eyes, directing at the weird figure perched by his bedside a + glance of enigmatic and profound inquiry. Then his head rolled back, his + eyelids fell, and the Capataz de Cargadores died without a word or moan + after an hour of immobility, broken by short shudders testifying to the + most atrocious sufferings. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham, going out in the police-galley to the islands, beheld the + glitter of the moon upon the gulf and the high black shape of the Great + Isabel sending a shaft of light afar, from under the canopy of clouds. + </p> + <p> + “Pull easy,” he said, wondering what he would find there. He tried to + imagine Linda and her father, and discovered a strange reluctance within + himself. “Pull easy,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + * * * * * * + </p> + <p> + From the moment he fired at the thief of his honour, Giorgio Viola had not + stirred from the spot. He stood, his old gun grounded, his hand grasping + the barrel near the muzzle. After the lancha carrying off Nostromo for + ever from her had left the shore, Linda, coming up, stopped before him. He + did not seem to be aware of her presence, but when, losing her forced + calmness, she cried out— + </p> + <p> + “Do you know whom you have killed?” he answered— + </p> + <p> + “Ramirez the vagabond.” + </p> + <p> + White, and staring insanely at her father, Linda laughed in his face. + After a time he joined her faintly in a deep-toned and distant echo of her + peals. Then she stopped, and the old man spoke as if startled— + </p> + <p> + “He cried out in son Gian’ Battista’s voice.” + </p> + <p> + The gun fell from his opened hand, but the arm remained extended for a + moment as if still supported. Linda seized it roughly. + </p> + <p> + “You are too old to understand. Come into the house.” + </p> + <p> + He let her lead him. On the threshold he stumbled heavily, nearly coming + to the ground together with his daughter. His excitement, his activity of + the last few days, had been like the flare of a dying lamp. He caught at + the back of his chair. + </p> + <p> + “In son Gian’ Battista’s voice,” he repeated in a severe tone. “I heard + him—Ramirez—the miserable——” + </p> + <p> + Linda helped him into the chair, and, bending low, hissed into his ear— + </p> + <p> + “You have killed Gian’ Battista.” + </p> + <p> + The old man smiled under his thick moustache. Women had strange fancies. + </p> + <p> + “Where is the child?” he asked, surprised at the penetrating chilliness of + the air and the unwonted dimness of the lamp by which he used to sit up + half the night with the open Bible before him. + </p> + <p> + Linda hesitated a moment, then averted her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “She is asleep,” she said. “We shall talk of her tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + She could not bear to look at him. He filled her with terror and with an + almost unbearable feeling of pity. She had observed the change that came + over him. He would never understand what he had done; and even to her the + whole thing remained incomprehensible. He said with difficulty— + </p> + <p> + “Give me the book.” + </p> + <p> + Linda laid on the table the closed volume in its worn leather cover, the + Bible given him ages ago by an Englishman in Palermo. + </p> + <p> + “The child had to be protected,” he said, in a strange, mournful voice. + </p> + <p> + Behind his chair Linda wrung her hands, crying without noise. Suddenly she + started for the door. He heard her move. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “To the light,” she answered, turning round to look at him balefully. + </p> + <p> + “The light! Si—duty.” + </p> + <p> + Very upright, white-haired, leonine, heroic in his absorbed quietness, he + felt in the pocket of his red shirt for the spectacles given him by Dona + Emilia. He put them on. After a long period of immobility he opened the + book, and from on high looked through the glasses at the small print in + double columns. A rigid, stern expression settled upon his features with a + slight frown, as if in response to some gloomy thought or unpleasant + sensation. But he never detached his eyes from the book while he swayed + forward, gently, gradually, till his snow-white head rested upon the open + pages. A wooden clock ticked methodically on the white-washed wall, and + growing slowly cold the Garibaldino lay alone, rugged, undecayed, like an + old oak uprooted by a treacherous gust of wind. + </p> + <p> + The light of the Great Isabel burned unfailing above the lost treasure of + the San Tome mine. Into the bluish sheen of a night without stars the + lantern sent out a yellow beam towards the far horizon. Like a black speck + upon the shining panes, Linda, crouching in the outer gallery, rested her + head on the rail. The moon, drooping in the western board, looked at her + radiantly. + </p> + <p> + Below, at the foot of the cliff, the regular splash of oars from a passing + boat ceased, and Dr. Monygham stood up in the stern sheets. + </p> + <p> + “Linda!” he shouted, throwing back his head. “Linda!” + </p> + <p> + Linda stood up. She had recognized the voice. + </p> + <p> + “Is he dead?” she cried, bending over. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my poor girl. I am coming round,” the doctor answered from below. + “Pull to the beach,” he said to the rowers. + </p> + <p> + Linda’s black figure detached itself upright on the light of the lantern + with her arms raised above her head as though she were going to throw + herself over. + </p> + <p> + “It is I who loved you,” she whispered, with a face as set and white as + marble in the moonlight. “I! Only I! She will forget thee, killed + miserably for her pretty face. I cannot understand. I cannot understand. + But I shall never forget thee. Never!” + </p> + <p> + She stood silent and still, collecting her strength to throw all her + fidelity, her pain, bewilderment, and despair into one great cry. + </p> + <p> + “Never! Gian’ Battista!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Monygham, pulling round in the police-galley, heard the name pass over + his head. It was another of Nostromo’s triumphs, the greatest, the most + enviable, the most sinister of all. In that true cry of undying passion + that seemed to ring aloud from Punta Mala to Azuera and away to the bright + line of the horizon, overhung by a big white cloud shining like a mass of + solid silver, the genius of the magnificent Capataz de Cargadores + dominated the dark gulf containing his conquests of treasure and love. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard, by Joseph Conrad + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOSTROMO: A TALE OF THE SEABOARD *** + +***** This file should be named 2021-h.htm or 2021-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/2/2021/ + +Produced by Judy Boss and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. + +The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> |