Page 567 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

‘Yes,’ he went on. ‘We all had our rewards—the engineer-
in-chief, Captain Mitchell——‘
‘We saw him,’ interrupted Mrs. Gould, in her charming
voice. ‘The poor dear man came up from the country on
purpose to call on us in our hotel in London. He comport-
ed himself with great dignity, but I fancy he regrets Sulaco.
He rambled feebly about ‘historical events’ till I felt I could
have a cry.’
‘H’m,’ grunted the doctor; ‘getting old, I suppose. Even
Nostromo is getting older—though he is not changed. And,
speaking of that fellow, I wanted to tell you something——‘
For some time the house had been full of murmurs, of
agitation. Suddenly the two gardeners, busy with rose trees
at the side of the garden arch, fell upon their knees with
bowed heads on the passage of Antonia Avellanos, who ap-
peared walking beside her uncle.
Invested with the red hat after a short visit to Rome,
where he had been invited by the Propaganda, Father Cor-
belan, missionary to the wild Indians, conspirator, friend
and patron of Hernandez the robber, advanced with big,
slow strides, gaunt and leaning forward, with his powerful
hands clasped behind his back. The first Cardinal-Arch-
bishop of Sulaco had preserved his fanatical and morose air;
the aspect of a chaplain of bandits. It was believed that his
unexpected elevation to the purple was a counter-move to
the Protestant invasion of Sulaco organized by the Holroyd
Missionary Fund. Antonia, the beauty of her face as if a lit-
tle blurred, her figure slightly fuller, advanced with her light
walk and her high serenity, smiling from a distance at Mrs.

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard