Page 223 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

ked, carrying a bullock-hide shield, and, no doubt, a long
lance, too—who knows? That he had wandered clothed in
skins, seeking for proselytes somewhere near the snow line
of the Cordillera. Of these exploits Padre Corbelan himself
was never known to talk. But he made no secret of his opin-
ion that the politicians of Sta. Marta had harder hearts and
more corrupt minds than the heathen to whom he had car-
ried the word of God. His injudicious zeal for the temporal
welfare of the Church was damaging the Ribierist cause. It
was common knowledge that he had refused to be made tit-
ular bishop of the Occidental diocese till justice was done to
a despoiled Church. The political Gefe of Sulaco (the same
dignitary whom Captain Mitchell saved from the mob af-
terwards) hinted with naive cynicism that doubtless their
Excellencies the Ministers sent the padre over the moun-
tains to Sulaco in the worst season of the year in the hope
that he would be frozen to death by the icy blasts of the high
paramos. Every year a few hardy muleteers—men inured
to exposure—were known to perish in that way. But what
would you have? Their Excellencies possibly had not real-
ized what a tough priest he was. Meantime, the ignorant
were beginning to murmur that the Ribierist reforms meant
simply the taking away of the land from the people. Some
of it was to be given to foreigners who made the railway; the
greater part was to go to the padres.
These were the results of the Grand Vicar’s zeal. Even
from the short allocution to the troops on the Plaza (which
only the first ranks could have heard) he had not been able
to keep out his fixed idea of an outraged Church waiting

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard