"No, you needn't explain," said Decoud, a little listlessly. "I can see
it well enough myself, that the possession of this treasure is very
much like a deadly disease for men situated as we are. But it had to be
removed from Sulaco, and you were the man for the task."
"I was; but I cannot believe," said Nostromo, "that its loss would have
impoverished Don Carlos Gould very much. There is more wealth in the
mountain. I have heard it rolling down the shoots on quiet nights when
I used to ride to Rincon to see a certain girl, after my work at the
harbour was done. For years the rich rocks have been pouring down with a
noise like thunder, and the miners say that there is enough at the heart
of the mountain to thunder on for years and years to come. And yet, the
day before yesterday, we have been fighting to save it from the mob,
and to-night I am sent out with it into this darkness, where there is no
wind to get away with; as if it were the last lot of silver on earth to
get bread for the hungry with. Ha! ha! Well, I am going to make it the
most famous and desperate affair of my life--wind or no wind. It shall
be talked about when the little children are grown up and the grown
men are old. Aha! the Monterists must not get hold of it, I am told,
whatever happens to Nostromo the Capataz; and they shall not have it, I
tell you, since it has been tied for safety round Nostromo's neck."
|