Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART THIRD: THE LIGHTHOUSE 3. CHAPTER THREE (continued)

"Caballeros, a moment of silence! A moment of silence! We ought
to make it clear that we bow in all good faith to the
accomplished facts."

The utterance of that phrase seemed to give him a melancholy
satisfaction. The hubbub of voices round him was growing strained
and hoarse. In the sudden pauses the excited grimacing of the
faces would sink all at once into the stillness of profound
dejection.

Meantime, the exodus had begun. Carretas full of ladies and
children rolled swaying across the Plaza, with men walking or
riding by their side; mounted parties followed on mules and
horses; the poorest were setting out on foot, men and women
carrying bundles, clasping babies in their arms, leading old
people, dragging along the bigger children. When Charles Gould,
after leaving the doctor and the engineer at the Casa Viola,
entered the town by the harbour gate, all those that had meant to
go were gone, and the others had barricaded themselves in their
houses. In the whole dark street there was only one spot of
flickering lights and moving figures, where the Senor
Administrador recognized his wife's carriage waiting at the door
of the Avellanos's house. He rode up, almost unnoticed, and
looked on without a word while some of his own servants came out
of the gate carrying Don Jose Avellanos, who, with closed eyes
and motionless features, appeared perfectly lifeless. His wife
and Antonia walked on each side of the improvised stretcher,
which was put at once into the carriage. The two women embraced;
while from the other side of the landau Father Corbelan's
emissary, with his ragged beard all streaked with grey, and high,
bronzed cheek-bones, stared, sitting upright in the saddle. Then
Antonia, dry-eyed, got in by the side of the stretcher, and,
after making the sign of the cross rapidly, lowered a thick veil
upon her face. The servants and the three or four neighbours who
had come to assist, stood back, uncovering their heads. On the
box, Ignacio, resigned now to driving all night (and to having
perhaps his throat cut before daylight) looked back surlily over
his shoulder.

"Drive carefully," cried Mrs. Gould in a tremulous voice.

"Si, carefully; si nina," he mumbled, chewing his lips, his round
leathery cheeks quivering. And the landau rolled slowly out of
the light.