Page 270 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

it were to an assembly of trained monkeys. I know his inten-
tions. I have seen him change the plates at table. Whoever is
allowed to live on in terror, I must die the death.
‘No, I didn’t stay to the end to hear Don Juste Lopez
trying to persuade himself in a grave oration of the clem-
ency and justice, and honesty, and purity of the brothers
Montero. I went out abruptly to seek Antonia. I saw her in
the gallery. As I opened the door, she extended to me her
clasped hands.
‘What are they doing in there?’ she asked.
‘Talking,’ I said, with my eyes looking into hers.
‘Yes, yes, but—‘
‘Empty speeches,’ I interrupted her. ‘Hiding their fears
behind imbecile hopes. They are all great Parliamentarians
there—on the English model, as you know.’ I was so furious
that I could hardly speak. She made a gesture of despair.
‘Through the door I held a little ajar behind me, we heard
Dun Juste’s measured mouthing monotone go on from
phrase to phrase, like a sort of awful and solemn madness.
‘After all, the Democratic aspirations have, perhaps, their
legitimacy. The ways of human progress are inscrutable,
and if the fate of the country is in the hand of Montero, we
ought—‘
‘I crashed the door to on that; it was enough; it was too
much. There was never a beautiful face expressing more
horror and despair than the face of Antonia. I couldn’t bear
it; I seized her wrists.
‘Have they killed my father in there?’ she asked.
‘Her eyes blazed with indignation, but as I looked on, fas-