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

matters of little moment.And he could not forget Father Beron with his monotonousphrase, ‘Will you confess now?’ reaching him in anawful iteration and lucidity of meaning through the deliriousincoherence of unbearable pain. He could not forget.But that was not the worst. Had he met Father Beron inthe street after all these years Dr. Monygham was sure hewould have quailed before him. This contingency was notto be feared now. Father Beron was dead; but the sickeningcertitude prevented Dr. Monygham from looking anybodyin the face.Dr. Monygham. had become, in a manner, the slave of aghost. It was obviously impossible to take his knowledge ofFather Beron home to Europe. When making his extortedconfessions to the Military Board, Dr. Monygham was notseeking to avoid death. He longed for it. Sitting half-nakedfor hours on the wet earth of his prison, and so motionlessthat the spiders, his companions, attached their webs to hismatted hair, he consoled the misery of his soul with acutereasonings that he had confessed to crimes enough for asentence of death—that they had gone too far with him tolet him live to tell the tale.But, as if by a refinement of cruelty, Dr. Monygham wasleft for months to decay slowly in the darkness of his gravelikeprison. It was no doubt hoped that it would finish himoff without the trouble of an execution; but Dr. Monyghamhad an iron constitution. It was Guzman Bento who died,not by the knife thrust of a conspirator, but from a strokeof apoplexy, and Dr. Monygham was liberated hastily. His