Nostromo - A Tale of the Seaboard.pdf - Planet eBook

humanity.‘He joined me on the harbour road after I had passed themunder the dark archway without stopping. It was a womanin trouble he had been talking to. Through discretion I keptsilent while he walked by my side. After a time he began totalk himself. It was not what I expected. It was only an oldwoman, an old lace-maker, in search of her son, one of thestreet-sweepers employed by the municipality. Friends hadcome the day before at daybreak to the door of their hovelcalling him out. He had gone with them, and she had notseen him since; so she had left the food she had been preparinghalf-cooked on the extinct embers and had crawled outas far as the harbour, where she had heard that some townmozos had been killed on the morning of the riot. One ofthe Cargadores guarding the Custom House had broughtout a lantern, and had helped her to look at the few dead leftlying about there. Now she was creeping back, having failedin her search. So she sat down on the stone seat under thearch, moaning, because she was very tired. The Capataz hadquestioned her, and after hearing her broken and groaningtale had advised her to go and look amongst the wounded inthe patio of the Casa Gould. He had also given her a quarterdollar, he mentioned carelessly.’‘Why did you do that?’ I asked. ‘Do you know her?’‘No, senor. I don’t suppose I have ever seen her before.How should I? She has not probably been out in the streetsfor years. She is one of those old women that you find in thiscountry at the back of huts, crouching over fireplaces, witha stick on the ground by their side, and almost too feeble