PART THIRD: THE LIGHTHOUSE
10. CHAPTER TEN
(continued)
And now, with the means of gaining the Great Isabel thrown thus
in his way at the earliest possible moment, his excitement had
departed, as when the soul takes flight leaving the body inert
upon an earth it knows no more. Nostromo did not seem to know the
gulf. For a long time even his eyelids did not flutter once upon
the glazed emptiness of his stare. Then slowly, without a limb
having stirred, without a twitch of muscle or quiver of an
eyelash, an expression, a living expression came upon the still
features, deep thought crept into the empty stare--as if an
outcast soul, a quiet, brooding soul, finding that untenanted
body in its way, had come in stealthily to take possession.
The Capataz frowned: and in the immense stillness of sea,
islands, and coast, of cloud forms on the sky and trails of light
upon the water, the knitting of that brow had the emphasis of a
powerful gesture. Nothing else budged for a long time; then the
Capataz shook his head and again surrendered himself to the
universal repose of all visible things. Suddenly he seized the
oars, and with one movement made the dinghy spin round, head-on
to the Great Isabel. But before he began to pull he bent once
more over the brown stain on the gunwale.
"I know that thing," he muttered to himself, with a sagacious
jerk of the head. "That's blood."
His stroke was long, vigorous, and steady. Now and then he looked
over his shoulder at the Great Isabel, presenting its low cliff
to his anxious gaze like an impenetrable face. At last the stem
touched the strand. He flung rather than dragged the boat up the
little beach. At once, turning his back upon the sunset, he
plunged with long strides into the ravine, making the water of
the stream spurt and fly upwards at every step, as if spurning
its shallow, clear, murmuring spirit with his feet. He wanted to
save every moment of daylight.
A mass of earth, grass, and smashed bushes had fallen down very
naturally from above upon the cavity under the leaning tree.
Decoud had attended to the concealment of the silver as
instructed, using the spade with some intelligence. But
Nostromo's half-smile of approval changed into a scornful curl of
the lip by the sight of the spade itself flung there in full
view, as if in utter carelessness or sudden panic, giving away
the whole thing. Ah! They were all alike in their folly, these
hombres finos that invented laws and governments and barren tasks
for the people.
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