Page 436 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

and the bullet-speckled walls of the houses opposite lightly
veiled by a sunny haze of dust. The word ‘PORVENIR’ in
immense black capitals, alternating with broken windows,
stared at him across the vast space; and he thought with
delight of the hour of vengeance, because he was very sure
of laying his hands upon Decoud. On his left hand, Gama-
cho, big and hot, wiping his hairy wet face, uncovered a set
of yellow fangs in a grin of stupid hilarity. On his right, Se-
nor Fuentes, small and lean, looked on with compressed
lips. The crowd stared literally open-mouthed, lost in eager
stillness, as though they had expected the great guerrillero,
the famous Pedrito, to begin scattering at once some sort
of visible largesse. What he began was a speech. He began
it with the shouted word ‘Citizens!’ which reached even
those in the middle of the Plaza. Afterwards the greater part
of the citizens remained fascinated by the orator’s action
alone, his tip-toeing, the arms flung above his head with
the fists clenched, a hand laid flat upon the heart, the silver
gleam of rolling eyes, the sweeping, pointing, embracing
gestures, a hand laid familiarly on Gamacho’s shoulder; a
hand waved formally towards the little black-coated person
of Senor Fuentes, advocate and politician and a true friend
of the people. The vivas of those nearest to the orator burst-
ing out suddenly propagated themselves irregularly to the
confines of the crowd, like flames running over dry grass,
and expired in the opening of the streets. In the intervals,
over the swarming Plaza brooded a heavy silence, in which
the mouth of the orator went on opening and shutting, and
detached phrases—‘The happiness of the people,’ ‘Sons of