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

had left it twenty-four hours before, when he had nothingto hide from the world. He remained before it, irresolute,like a fugitive, like a man betrayed. Poverty, misery, starvation!Where had he heard these words? The anger of a dyingwoman had prophesied that fate for his folly. It looked asif it would come true very quickly. And the leperos wouldlaugh—she had said. Yes, they would laugh if they knewthat the Capataz de Cargadores was at the mercy of the maddoctor whom they could remember, only a few years ago,buying cooked food from a stall on the Plaza for a coppercoin—like one of themselves.At that moment the notion of seeking Captain Mitchellpassed through his mind. He glanced in the direction ofthe jetty and saw a small gleam of light in the O.S.N. Company’sbuilding. The thought of lighted windows was notattractive. Two lighted windows had decoyed him into theempty Custom House, only to fall into the clutches of thatdoctor. No! He would not go near lighted windows againon that night. Captain Mitchell was there. And what couldhe be told? That doctor would worm it all out of him as ifhe were a child.On the threshold he called out ‘Giorgio!’ in an undertone.Nobody answered. He stepped in. ‘Ola! viejo! Are youthere? …’ In the impenetrable darkness his head swam withthe illusion that the obscurity of the kitchen was as vast asthe Placid Gulf, and that the floor dipped forward like asinking lighter. ‘Ola! viejo!’ he repeated, falteringly, swayingwhere he stood. His hand, extended to steady himself,fell upon the table. Moving a step forward, he shifted it, and