Page 142 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

Chief of the State Costaguana had ever known, pronounc-
ing, glass in hand, his simple watchwords of honesty, peace,
respect for law, political good faith abroad and at home—
the safeguards of national honour.
He sat down. During the respectful, appreciative buzz
of voices that followed the speech, General Montero raised
a pair of heavy, drooping eyelids and rolled his eyes with
a sort of uneasy dullness from face to face. The military
backwoods hero of the party, though secretly impressed
by the sudden novelties and splendours of his position (he
had never been on board a ship before, and had hardly ever
seen the sea except from a distance), understood by a sort
of instinct the advantage his surly, unpolished attitude of
a savage fighter gave him amongst all these refined Blanco
aristocrats. But why was it that nobody was looking at him?
he wondered to himself angrily. He was able to spell out the
print of newspapers, and knew that he had performed the
‘greatest military exploit of modern times.’
‘My husband wanted the railway,’ Mrs. Gould said to Sir
John in the general murmur of resumed conversations. ‘All
this brings nearer the sort of future we desire for the coun-
try, which has waited for it in sorrow long enough, God
knows. But I will confess that the other day, during my af-
ternoon drive when I suddenly saw an Indian boy ride out
of a wood with the red flag of a surveying party in his hand,
I felt something of a shock. The future means change—an
utter change. And yet even here there are simple and pictur-
esque things that one would like to preserve.’
Sir John listened, smiling. But it was his turn now to

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