Quotation from: Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard

Written by: Joseph Conrad


The morning was wearing on; there were already signs of disruption,
currents and eddies in the crowd. Some were seeking the shade of the
walls and under the trees of the Alameda. Horsemen spurred through,
shouting; groups of sombreros set level on heads against the vertical
sun were drifting away into the streets, where the open doors of
pulperias revealed an enticing gloom resounding with the gentle tinkling
of guitars. The National Guards were thinking of siesta, and the
eloquence of Gamacho, their chief, was exhausted. Later on, when, in the
cooler hours of the afternoon, they tried to assemble again for further
consideration of public affairs, detachments of Montero's cavalry camped
on the Alameda charged them without parley, at speed, with long lances
levelled at their flying backs as far as the ends of the streets. The
National Guards of Sulaco were surprised by this proceeding. But they
were not indignant. No Costaguanero had ever learned to question the
eccentricities of a military force. They were part of the natural order
of things. This must be, they concluded, some kind of administrative
measure, no doubt. But the motive of it escaped their unaided
intelligence, and their chief and orator, Gamacho, Commandante of the
National Guard, was lying drunk and asleep in the bosom of his family.
His bare feet were upturned in the shadows repulsively, in the manner
of a corpse. His eloquent mouth had dropped open. His youngest daughter,
scratching her head with one hand, with the other waved a green bough
over his scorched and peeling face.

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Old Dominion University CS Dept
Designed by Joan A. Smith for the CRATE project
Created: 2007-2-22T12:35:29Z
Part of the CratePreservation Project
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Part of a series of experiments in web preservation under the direction of Michael L. Nelson, Ph.D.