Page 474 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

meditating—or, perhaps, reading a paper. And not a sound
issued from the room.
Once more the Capataz stepped back. He wondered
who it was—some Monterist? But he dreaded to show him-
self. To discover his presence on shore, unless after many
days, would, he believed, endanger the treasure. With his
own knowledge possessing his whole soul, it seemed im-
possible that anybody in Sulaco should fail to jump at the
right surmise. After a couple of weeks or so it would be dif-
ferent. Who could tell he had not returned overland from
some port beyond the limits of the Republic? The existence
of the treasure confused his thoughts with a peculiar sort
of anxiety, as though his life had become bound up with it.
It rendered him timorous for a moment before that enig-
matic, lighted door. Devil take the fellow! He did not want
to see him. There would be nothing to learn from his face,
known or unknown. He was a fool to waste his time there
in waiting.
Less than five minutes after entering the place the Ca-
pataz began his retreat. He got away down the stairs with
perfect success, gave one upward look over his shoulder at
the light on the landing, and ran stealthily across the hall.
But at the very moment he was turning out of the great door,
with his mind fixed upon escaping the notice of the man
upstairs, somebody he had not heard coming briskly along
the front ran full into him. Both muttered a stifled excla-
mation of surprise, and leaped back and stood still, each
indistinct to the other. Nostromo was silent. The other man
spoke first, in an amazed and deadened tone.