Page 507 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

indispensable man escaped his influence, because of that
indelible blot which made him fit for dirty work. A feeling
as of sickness came upon the doctor. He would have given
anything to know, but he dared not clear up the point. The
fanaticism of his devotion, fed on the sense of his abase-
ment, hardened his heart in sadness and scorn.
‘Why not, indeed?’ he reechoed, sardonically. ‘Then the
safe thing for you is to kill me on the spot. I would defend
myself. But you may just as well know I am going about un-
armed.’
‘Por Dios!’ said the Capataz, passionately. ‘You fine peo-
ple are all alike. All dangerous. All betrayers of the poor
who are your dogs.’
‘You do not understand,’ began the doctor, slowly.
‘I understand you all!’ cried the other with a violent
movement, as shadowy to the doctor’s eyes as the persistent
immobility of the late Senor Hirsch. ‘A poor man amongst
you has got to look after himself. I say that you do not care
for those that serve you. Look at me! After all these years,
suddenly, here I find myself like one of these curs that bark
outside the walls —without a kennel or a dry bone for my
teeth. (Caramba!’ But he relented with a contemptuous fair-
ness. ‘Of course,’ he went on, quietly, ‘I do not suppose that
you would hasten to give me up to Sotillo, for example. It is
not that. It is that I am nothing! Suddenly—‘ He swung his
arm downwards. ‘Nothing to any one,’ he repeated.
The doctor breathed freely. ‘Listen, Capataz,’ he said,
stretching out his arm almost affectionately towards Nos-
tromo’s shoulder. ‘I am going to tell you a very simple thing.

0 Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard