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

There was something in that immobility which reachedLinda in the depths of her paradise. The elder sister guessedangrily: the child is thinking of that wretched Ramirez. Lindalonged to talk. She said in her arbitrary voice, ‘Giselle!’and was not answered by the slightest movement.The girl that was going to live in a palace and walk onground of her own was ready to die with terror. Not foranything in the world would she have turned her head toface her sister. Her heart was beating madly. She said withsubdued haste—‘Do not speak to me. I am praying.’Linda, disappointed, went out quietly; and Giselle sat onunbelieving, lost, dazed, patient, as if waiting for the confirmationof the incredible. The hopeless blackness of theclouds seemed part of a dream, too. She waited.She did not wait in vain. The man whose soul was deadwithin him, creeping out of the ravine, weighted with silver,had seen the gleam of the lighted window, and could nothelp retracing his steps from the beach.On that impenetrable background, obliterating the loftymountains by the seaboard, she saw the slave of the SanTome silver, as if by an extraordinary power of a miracle.She accepted his return as if henceforth the world couldhold no surprise for all eternity.She rose, compelled and rigid, and began to speak longbefore the light from within fell upon the face of the approachingman.‘You have come back to carry me off. It is well! Open thyarms, Giovanni, my lover. I am coming.’