Page 367 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

the column. Near by a loud voice directed hurriedly, ‘Push
that railway car out of the way!’ At the rush of bare feet to
execute the order Captain Mitchell skipped back a pace or
two; the car, suddenly impelled by many hands, flew away
from him along the rails, and before he knew what had hap-
pened he found himself surrounded and seized by his arms
and the collar of his coat.
‘We have caught a man hiding here, mi teniente!’ cried
one of his captors.
‘Hold him on one side till the rearguard comes along,’ an-
swered the voice. The whole column streamed past Captain
Mitchell at a run, the thundering noise of their feet dying
away suddenly on the shore. His captors held him tightly,
disregarding his declaration that he was an Englishman
and his loud demands to be taken at once before their com-
manding officer. Finally he lapsed into dignified silence.
With a hollow rumble of wheels on the planks a couple of
field guns, dragged by hand, rolled by. Then, after a small
body of men had marched past escorting four or five figures
which walked in advance, with a jingle of steel scabbards,
he felt a tug at his arms, and was ordered to come along.
During the passage from the wharf to the Custom House it
is to be feared that Captain Mitchell was subjected to cer-
tain indignities at the hands of the soldiers—such as jerks,
thumps on the neck, forcible application of the butt of a ri-
fle to the small of his back. Their ideas of speed were not in
accord with his notion of his dignity. He became flustered,
flushed, and helpless. It was as if the world were coming to
an end.

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard