Page 332 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

the breast of Senor Hirsch, who simply seized hold of it,
without in the least knowing what it was, but curling his
arms and legs upon the part above the fluke with an invin-
cible, unreasonable tenacity. The lighter yawed off wide, and
the steamer, moving on, carried him away, clinging hard,
and shouting for help. It was some time, however, after the
steamer had stopped that his position was discovered. His
sustained yelping for help seemed to come from somebody
swimming in the water. At last a couple of men went over
the bows and hauled him on board. He was carried straight
off to Sotillo on the bridge. His examination confirmed the
impression that some craft had been run over and sunk, but
it was impracticable on such a dark night to look for the pos-
itive proof of floating wreckage. Sotillo was more anxious
than ever now to enter the harbour without loss of time; the
idea that he had destroyed the principal object of his expe-
dition was too intolerable to be accepted. This feeling made
the story he had heard appear the more incredible. Senor
Hirsch, after being beaten a little for telling lies, was thrust
into the chartroom. But he was beaten only a little. His tale
had taken the heart out of Sotillo’s Staff, though they all re-
peated round their chief, ‘Impossible! impossible!’ with the
exception of the old major, who triumphed gloomily.
‘I told you; I told you,’ he mumbled. ‘I could smell some
treachery, some diableria a league off.’
Meantime, the steamer had kept on her way towards
Sulaco, where only the truth of that matter could be ascer-
tained. Decoud and Nostromo heard the loud churning of
her propeller diminish and die out; and then, with no use-

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