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

sensible his profound isolation. His pace became slower. Noone waited for him; no one thought of him; no one expectedor wished his return. ‘Betrayed! Betrayed!’ he muttered tohimself. No one cared. He might have been drowned by thistime. No one would have cared—unless, perhaps, the children,he thought to himself. But they were with the Englishsignora, and not thinking of him at all.He wavered in his purpose of making straight for theCasa Viola. To what end? What could he expect there? Hislife seemed to fail him in all its details, even to the scornfulreproaches 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?Meantime, he had deviated from the straight course, incliningby a sort of instinct to the right, towards the jetty andthe harbour, the scene of his daily labours. The great lengthof the Custom House loomed up all at once like the wall of afactory. Not a soul challenged his approach, and his curiositybecame excited as he passed cautiously towards the frontby the unexpected sight of two lighted windows.They had the fascination of a lonely vigil kept by somemysterious watcher up there, those two windows shiningdimly upon the harbour in the whole vast extent of theabandoned building. The solitude could almost be felt. Astrong smell of wood smoke hung about in a thin haze,which was faintly perceptible to his raised eyes against theglitter of the stars. As he advanced in the profound silence,the shrilling of innumerable cicalas in the dry grass seemedpositively deafening to his strained ears. Slowly, step by step,