Page 336 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

I was in love with. Poor Teresa could never understand that.
On that particular Sunday, senor, she scolded so that I went
out of the house swearing that I would never darken their
door again unless to fetch away my hammock and my chest
of clothes. Senor, there is nothing more exasperating than
to hear a woman you respect rail against your good reputa-
tion when you have not a single brass coin in your pocket. I
untied one of the small boats and pulled myself out of the
harbour with nothing but three cigars in my pocket to help
me spend the day on this island. But the water of this riv-
ulet you hear under your feet is cool and sweet and good,
senor, both before and after a smoke.’ He was silent for a
while, then added reflectively, ‘That was the first Sunday af-
ter I brought down the white-whiskered English rico all the
way down the mountains from the Paramo on the top of the
Entrada Pass—and in the coach, too! No coach had gone up
or down that mountain road within the memory of man,
senor, till I brought this one down in charge of fifty peons
working like one man with ropes, pickaxes, and poles under
my direction. That was the rich Englishman who, as peo-
ple say, pays for the making of this railway. He was very
pleased with me. But my wages were not due till the end of
the month.’
He slid down the bank suddenly. Decoud heard the
splash of his feet in the brook and followed his footsteps
down the ravine. His form was lost among the bushes till
he had reached the strip of sand under the cliff. As often
happens in the gulf when the showers during the first part
of the night had been frequent and heavy, the darkness had