Page 325 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

doze under their heavy saddles, while the men, in ragged
uniforms and pointed straw hats, lounge on a bench, with
their naked feet stuck out beyond the strip of shade; and a
sentry, in a red baize coat with holes at the elbows, stands at
the top of the steps glaring haughtily at the common people,
who uncover their heads to him as they pass.
Sotillo’s ideas did not soar above the care for his personal
safety and the chance of plundering the town in his charge,
but he feared that such a late adhesion would earn but scant
gratitude from the victors. He had believed just a little too
long in the power of the San Tome mine. The seized cor-
respondence had confirmed his previous information of a
large amount of silver ingots lying in the Sulaco Custom
House. To gain possession of it would be a clear Monter-
ist move; a sort of service that would have to be rewarded.
With the silver in his hands he could make terms for him-
self and his soldiers. He was aware neither of the riots, nor
of the President’s escape to Sulaco and the close pursuit led
by Montero’s brother, the guerrillero. The game seemed in
his own hands. The initial moves were the seizure of the
cable telegraph office and the securing of the Government
steamer lying in the narrow creek which is the harbour of
Esmeralda. The last was effected without difficulty by a com-
pany of soldiers swarming with a rush over the gangways as
she lay alongside the quay; but the lieutenant charged with
the duty of arresting the telegraphist halted on the way be-
fore the only cafe in Esmeralda, where he distributed some
brandy to his men, and refreshed himself at the expense
of the owner, a known Ribierist. The whole party became

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard