Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART SECOND: THE ISABELS 8. CHAPTER EIGHT (continued)

The murmuring loquacity of the Capataz disturbed Decoud like a
hint of weakness. And yet, talkative resolution may be as genuine
as grim silence.

"Sotillo is not baffled so far," he said. "Have you forgotten
that crazy man forward?"

Nostromo had not forgotten Senor Hirsch. He reproached himself
bitterly for not having visited the lighter carefully before
leaving the wharf. He reproached himself for not having stabbed
and flung Hirsch overboard at the very moment of discovery
without even looking at his face. That would have been consistent
with the desperate character of the affair. Whatever happened,
Sotillo was already baffled. Even if that wretch, now as silent
as death, did anything to betray the nearness of the lighter,
Sotillo--if Sotillo it was in command of the troops on
board--would be still baffled of his plunder.

"I have an axe in my hand," Nostromo whispered, wrathfully, "that
in three strokes would cut through the side down to the water's
edge. Moreover, each lighter has a plug in the stern, and I know
exactly where it is. I feel it under the sole of my foot."

Decoud recognized the ring of genuine determination in the
nervous murmurs, the vindictive excitement of the famous Capataz.
Before the steamer, guided by a shriek or two (for there could be
no more than that, Nostromo said, gnashing his teeth audibly),
could find the lighter there would be plenty of time to sink this
treasure tied up round his neck.

The last words he hissed into Decoud's ear. Decoud said nothing.
He was perfectly convinced. The usual characteristic quietness
of the man was gone. It was not equal to the situation as he
conceived it. Something deeper, something unsuspected by
everyone, had come to the surface. Decoud, with careful
movements, slipped off his overcoat and divested himself of his
boots; he did not consider himself bound in honour to sink with
the treasure. His object was to get down to Barrios, in Cayta, as
the Capataz knew very well; and he, too, meant, in his own way,
to put into that attempt all the desperation of which he was
capable. Nostromo muttered, "True, true! You are a politician,
senor. Rejoin the army, and start another revolution." He
pointed out, however, that there was a little boat belonging to
every lighter fit to carry two men, if not more. Theirs was
towing behind.