Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard
Englishman's silver. Or, rather no, por Dios! I shall
cut down the gunwale with the axe right to the water's edge before thirst and hunger rob me of my strength. By all the saints and devils, I shall let the sea have the treasure rather than give it up to any stranger. Since it was the good pleasure of the cabal- leros to send me off on such an errand, they shall learn I am just the man they take me for." Decoud lay on the silver-boxes panting. All his ac- tive sensations and feelings, from as far back as he could remember, seemed to him the maddest of dreams. Even his passionate devotion to Antonia, into which he had worked himself up out of the depths of his scep- ticism, had lost all appearance of reality. For a mo- ment he was the prey of an extremely languid but not unpleasant indifference. " I am sure they didn't mean you to take such a des- perate view of this affair," he said. "What was it then? A joke?" snarled the man who, on the pay-sheets of the O.S.N. Company's es- tablishment in Sulaco, was described as "Foreman of the wharf" against the figure of his wages. "Was it for a joke that they woke me up from my sleep after two days of street fighting to make me stake my life upon a bad card? Everybody knows, too, that I am not a lucky gambler." "Yes, everybody knows of your good luck with women, capataz," Decoud propitiated his companion, in a weary drawl. "Look here, seƱor," Nostromo went on, "I never even remonstrated about, this affair. Directly I heard
what was wanted I saw what a desperate affair it must
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