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

der-blades. From there his eyes traced in one instantaneousglance the hide rope going upwards from the tied wristsover a heavy beam and down to a staple in the wall. He didnot want to look at the rigid legs, at the feet hanging downnervelessly, with their bare toes some six inches above thefloor, to know that the man had been given the estrapadetill he had swooned. His first impulse was to dash forwardand sever the rope at one blow. He felt for his knife. He hadno knife—not even a knife. He stood quivering, and thedoctor, perched on the edge of the table, facing thoughtfullythe cruel and lamentable sight, his chin in his hand,uttered, without stirring—‘Tortured—and shot dead through the breast—gettingcold.’This information calmed the Capataz. One of the candlesflickering in the socket went out. ‘Who did this?’ he asked.‘Sotillo, I tell you. Who else? Tortured—of course. Butwhy shot?’ The doctor looked fixedly at Nostromo, whoshrugged his shoulders slightly. ‘And mark, shot suddenly,on impulse. It is evident. I wish I had his secret.’Nostromo had advanced, and stooped slightly to look. ‘Iseem to have seen that face somewhere,’ he muttered. ‘Whois he?’The doctor turned his eyes upon him again. ‘I may yetcome to envying his fate. What do you think of that, Capataz,eh?’But Nostromo did not even hear these words. Seizing theremaining light, he thrust it under the drooping head. Thedoctor sat oblivious, with a lost gaze. Then the heavy iron