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

in a tone of relief. Most of the Europeans in Sulaco werethere, rallied round Charles Gould, as if the silver of themine had been the emblem of a common cause, the symbolof the supreme importance of material interests. They hadloaded it into the lighter with their own hands. Nostromorecognized Don Carlos Gould, a thin, tall shape standing alittle apart and silent, to whom another tall shape, the engineer-in-chief,said aloud, ‘If it must be lost, it is a milliontimes better that it should go to the bottom of the sea.’Martin Decoud called out from the lighter, ‘Au revoir,messieurs, till we clasp hands again over the new-born OccidentalRepublic.’ Only a subdued murmur responded tohis clear, ringing tones; and then it seemed to him that thewharf was floating away into the night; but it was Nostromo,who was already pushing against a pile with one of theheavy sweeps. Decoud did not move; the effect was that ofbeing launched into space. After a splash or two there wasnot a sound but the thud of Nostromo’s feet leaping aboutthe boat. He hoisted the big sail; a breath of wind fannedDecoud’s cheek. Everything had vanished but the light ofthe lantern Captain Mitchell had hoisted upon the post atthe end of the jetty to guide Nostromo out of the harbour.The two men, unable to see each other, kept silent till thelighter, slipping before the fitful breeze, passed out betweenalmost invisible headlands into the still deeper darkness ofthe gulf. For a time the lantern on the jetty shone after them.The wind failed, then fanned up again, but so faintly thatthe big, half-decked boat slipped along with no more noisethan if she had been suspended in the air.