Page 527 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

the thought of the eternal stillness and silence fallen upon
the shrouded form stretched out on the bed upstairs, avert-
ed his face and raised his hand to his furrowed brow. ‘She
was dead before I could seize her hands,’ he stammered out,
pitifully.
Before the wide eyes of the Capataz, staring at the door-
way of the dark staircase, floated the shape of the Great
Isabel, like a strange ship in distress, freighted with enor-
mous wealth and the solitary life of a man. It was impossible
for him to do anything. He could only hold his tongue, since
there was no one to trust. The treasure would be lost, prob-
ably—unless Decoud…. And his thought came abruptly to
an end. He perceived that he could not imagine in the least
what Decoud was likely to do.
Old Viola had not stirred. And the motionless Capataz
dropped his long, soft eyelashes, which gave to the upper
part of his fierce, black-whiskered face a touch of feminine
ingenuousness. The silence had lasted for a long time.
‘God rest her soul!’ he murmured, gloomily.

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard