Page 211 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

them from the people in the sala.
Outside it had grown dark. From the deep trench of
shadow between the houses, lit up vaguely by the glimmer
of street lamps, ascended the evening silence of Sulaco; the
silence of a town with few carriages, of unshod horses, and
a softly sandalled population. The windows of the Casa
Gould flung their shining parallelograms upon the house
of the Avellanos. Now and then a shuffle of feet passed be-
low with the pulsating red glow of a cigarette at the foot
of the walls; and the night air, as if cooled by the snows of
Higuerota, refreshed their faces.
‘We Occidentals,’ said Martin Decoud, using the usual
term the provincials of Sulaco applied to themselves, ‘have
been always distinct and separated. As long as we hold Cay-
ta nothing can reach us. In all our troubles no army has
marched over those mountains. A revolution in the central
provinces isolates us at once. Look how complete it is now!
The news of Barrios’ movement will be cabled to the United
States, and only in that way will it reach Sta. Marta by the
cable from the other seaboard. We have the greatest riches,
the greatest fertility, the purest blood in our great families,
the most laborious population. The Occidental Province
should stand alone. The early Federalism was not bad for
us. Then came this union which Don Henrique Gould re-
sisted. It opened the road to tyranny; and, ever since, the
rest of Costaguana hangs like a millstone round our necks.
The Occidental territory is large enough to make any man’s
country. Look at the mountains! Nature itself seems to cry
to us, ‘Separate!’’

10 Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard