Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART SECOND: THE ISABELS 7. CHAPTER SEVEN (continued)

"I recognized something impassive and careless in its tone,
characteristic of that Genoese sailor who, like me, has come
casually here to be drawn into the events for which his
scepticism as well as mine seems to entertain a sort of passive
contempt. The only thing he seems to care for, as far as I have
been able to discover, is to be well spoken of. An ambition fit
for noble souls, but also a profitable one for an exceptionally
intelligent scoundrel. Yes. His very words, 'To be well spoken
of. Si, senor.' He does not seem to make any difference between
speaking and thinking. Is it sheer naiveness or the practical
point of view, I wonder? Exceptional individualities always
interest me, because they are true to the general formula
expressing the moral state of humanity.

"He joined me on the harbour road after I had passed them under
the dark archway without stopping. It was a woman in trouble he
had been talking to. Through discretion I kept silent while he
walked by my side. After a time he began to talk himself. It was
not what I expected. It was only an old woman, an old lace-maker,
in search of her son, one of the street-sweepers employed by the
municipality. Friends had come the day before at daybreak to the
door of their hovel calling him out. He had gone with them, and
she had not seen him since; so she had left the food she had been
preparing half-cooked on the extinct embers and had crawled out
as far as the harbour, where she had heard that some town mozos
had been killed on the morning of the riot. One of the Cargadores
guarding the Custom House had brought out a lantern, and had
helped her to look at the few dead left lying about there. Now
she was creeping back, having failed in her search. So she sat
down on the stone seat under the arch, moaning, because she was
very tired. The Capataz had questioned her, and after hearing her
broken and groaning tale had advised her to go and look amongst
the wounded in the patio of the Casa Gould. He had also given her
a quarter dollar, he mentioned carelessly."

"'Why did you do that?' I asked. 'Do you know her?'