Page 515 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

‘It will be worse for him than thirst at sea or hunger in
a town full of people. Do you know what that is? He shall
suffer greater torments than he inflicted upon that terrified
wretch who had no invention. None! none! Not like me. I
could have told Sotillo a deadly tale for very little pain.’
He laughed wildly and turned in the doorway towards
the body of the late Senor Hirsch, an opaque long blotch
in the semi-transparent obscurity of the room between the
two tall parallelograms of the windows full of stars.
‘You man of fear!’ he cried. ‘You shall be avenged by me—
Nostromo. Out of my way, doctor! Stand aside—or, by the
suffering soul of a woman dead without confession, I will
strangle you with my two hands.’
He bounded downwards into the black, smoky hall.
With a grunt of astonishment, Dr. Monygham threw him-
self recklessly into the pursuit. At the bottom of the charred
stairs he had a fall, pitching forward on his face with a force
that would have stunned a spirit less intent upon a task of
love and devotion. He was up in a moment, jarred, shak-
en, with a queer impression of the terrestrial globe having
been flung at his head in the dark. But it wanted more than
that to stop Dr. Monygham’s body, possessed by the exal-
tation of self-sacrifice; a reasonable exaltation, determined
not to lose whatever advantage chance put into its way. He
ran with headlong, tottering swiftness, his arms going like
a windmill in his effort to keep his balance on his crippled
feet. He lost his hat; the tails of his open gaberdine flew
behind him. He had no mind to lose sight of the indispens-
able man. But it was a long time, and a long way from the

1 Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard