Page 589 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

nothing of his opening speech; and Captain Fidanza, lav-
ishly generous as usual to some poor comrades, made no
speech at all. He had listened, frowning, with his mind far
away, and walked off unapproachable, silent, like a man full
of cares.
His frown deepened as, in the early morning, he watched
the stone-masons go off to the Great Isabel, in lighters load-
ed with squared blocks of stone, enough to add another
course to the squat light-tower. That was the rate of the
work. One course per day.
And Captain Fidanza meditated. The presence of strang-
ers on the island would cut him completely off the treasure.
It had been difficult and dangerous enough before. He was
afraid, and he was angry. He thought with the resolution of
a master and the cunning of a cowed slave. Then he went
ashore.
He was a man of resource and ingenuity; and, as usual,
the expedient he found at a critical moment was effective
enough to alter the situation radically. He had the gift of
evolving safety out of the very danger, this incomparable
Nostromo, this ‘fellow in a thousand.’ With Giorgio es-
tablished on the Great Isabel, there would be no need for
concealment. He would be able to go openly, in daylight,
to see his daughters—one of his daughters—and stay late
talking to the old Garibaldino. Then in the dark … Night
after night … He would dare to grow rich quicker now. He
yearned to clasp, embrace, absorb, subjugate in unques-
tioned possession this treasure, whose tyranny had weighed
upon his mind, his actions, his very sleep.

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard