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

of our high officials, is a stranger, too—an Isleno. He mighthave been a Cargador on the O. S. N. wharf had he not (theposadero of Rincon is ready to swear it) murdered a pedlarin the woods and stolen his pack to begin life on. And doyou think that Gamacho, then, would have ever become ahero with the democracy of this place, like our Capataz? Ofcourse not. He isn’t half the man. No; decidedly, I think thatNostromo is a fool.’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 Gamachoharanguing his friends in the street. He has a howling voice,and he shouted like mad, lifting his clenched fist right abovehis head, and throwing his body half out of the window. Atevery pause the rabble below yelled, ‘Down with the Oligarchs!Viva la Libertad!’ Fuentes inside looked extremelymiserable. You know, he is the brother of Jorge Fuentes,who has been Minister of the Interior for six months orso, some few years back. Of course, he has no conscience;but he is a man of birth and education—at one time the directorof the Customs of Cayta. That idiot-brute Gamachofastened himself upon him with his following of the lowestrabble. His sickly fear of that ruffian was the most rejoicingsight imaginable.’He got up and went to the door to look out towards theharbour. ‘All quiet,’ he said; ‘I wonder if Sotillo really meansto turn up here?’