Page 551 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

of light upon the water, the knitting of that brow had the
emphasis of a powerful gesture. Nothing else budged for a
long time; then the Capataz shook his head and again sur-
rendered himself to the universal repose of all visible things.
Suddenly he seized the oars, and with one movement made
the dinghy spin round, head-on to the Great Isabel. But
before he began to pull he bent once more over the brown
stain on the gunwale.
‘I know that thing,’ he muttered to himself, with a saga-
cious jerk of the head. ‘That’s blood.’
His stroke was long, vigorous, and steady. Now and then
he looked over his shoulder at the Great Isabel, present-
ing its low cliff to his anxious gaze like an impenetrable
face. At last the stem touched the strand. He flung rather
than dragged the boat up the little beach. At once, turn-
ing his back upon the sunset, he plunged with long strides
into the ravine, making the water of the stream spurt and
fly upwards at every step, as if spurning its shallow, clear,
murmuring spirit with his feet. He wanted to save every
moment of daylight.
A mass of earth, grass, and smashed bushes had fallen
down very naturally from above upon the cavity under the
leaning tree. Decoud had attended to the concealment of
the silver as instructed, using the spade with some intelli-
gence. But Nostromo’s half-smile of approval changed into
a scornful curl of the lip by the sight of the spade itself flung
there in full view, as if in utter carelessness or sudden panic,
giving away the whole thing. Ah! They were all alike in their
folly, these hombres finos that invented laws and govern-

0 Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard