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er. No, senor; there is no rest till we find a north-bound
steamer, or else some ship finds us drifting about stretched
out dead upon the 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 trea-
sure rather than give it up to any stranger. Since it was the
good pleasure of the Caballeros 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 active sen-
sations 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 scepticism had lost all appearance of
reality. For a moment he was the prey of an extremely lan-
guid but not unpleasant indifference.
‘I am sure they didn’t mean you to take such a desperate
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 establishment in Su-
laco was described as ‘Foreman of the wharf’ against the
figure of his wages. ‘Was it for a joke 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, senor,’ Nostromo went on. ‘I never even re-

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