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

He had made up his mind that nothing should be allowednow to rob him of his bargain. Nothing. Decoud haddied. But how? That he was dead he had not a shadow of adoubt. But four ingots? … What for? Did he mean to comefor more—some other time?The treasure was putting forth its latent power. It troubledthe clear mind of the man who had paid the price. Hewas sure that Decoud was dead. The island seemed full ofthat whisper. Dead! Gone! And he caught himself listeningfor the swish of bushes and the splash of the footfalls in thebed of the brook. Dead! The talker, the novio of Dona Antonia!‘Ha!’ he murmured, with his head on his knees, underthe livid clouded dawn breaking over the liberated Sulacoand upon the gulf as gray as ashes. ‘It is to her that he willfly. To her that he will fly!’And four ingots! Did he take them in revenge, to cast aspell, like the angry woman who had prophesied remorseand failure, and yet had laid upon him the task of savingthe children? Well, he had saved the children. He had defeatedthe spell of poverty and starvation. He had done it allalone—or perhaps helped by the devil. Who cared? He haddone it, betrayed as he was, and saving by the same strokethe San Tome mine, which appeared to him hateful and immense,lording it by its vast wealth over the valour, the toil,the fidelity of the poor, over war and peace, over the laboursof the town, the sea, and the Campo.The sun lit up the sky behind the peaks of the Cordillera.The Capataz looked down for a time upon the fall of loose