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

‘Where is it? Where? Tell me that, Giovanni.’He opened his mouth and remained silent—thunderstruck.‘Not that! Not that!’ he gasped out, appalled at the spellof secrecy that had kept him dumb before so many peoplefalling upon his lips again with unimpaired force. Not evento her. Not even to her. It was too dangerous. ‘I forbid theeto ask,’ he cried at her, deadening cautiously the anger ofhis voice.He had not regained his freedom. The spectre of the unlawfultreasure arose, standing by her side like a figure ofsilver, pitiless and secret, with a finger on its pale lips. Hissoul died within him at the vision of himself creeping inpresently along the ravine, with the smell of earth, of dampfoliage in his nostrils—creeping in, determined in a purposethat numbed his breast, and creeping out again loadedwith silver, with his ears alert to every sound. It must bedone on this very night—that work of a craven slave!He stooped low, pressed the hem of her skirt to his lips,with a muttered command—‘Tell him I would not stay,’ and was gone suddenly fromher, silent, without as much as a footfall in the dark night.She sat still, her head resting indolently against the wall,and her little feet in white stockings and black slipperscrossed over each other. Old Giorgio, coming out, did notseem to be surprised at the intelligence as much as she hadvaguely feared. For she was full of inexplicable fear now—fear of everything and everybody except of her Giovanniand his treasure. But that was incredible.