Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART THIRD: THE LIGHTHOUSE 13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN (continued)

It was her sister's voice. It broke on a heartrending sob. And
the voice of the resourceful Capataz de Cargadores, master and
slave of the San Tome treasure, who had been caught unawares by
old Giorgio while stealing across the open towards the ravine to
get some more silver, answered careless and cool, but sounding
startlingly weak from the ground.

"It seemed as though I could not live through the night without
seeing thee once more--my star, my little flower."

* * * * *

The brilliant tertulia was just over, the last guests had
departed, and the Senor Administrador had gone to his room
already, when Dr. Monygham, who had been expected in the evening
but had not turned up, arrived driving along the wood-block
pavement under the electric-lamps of the deserted Calle de la
Constitucion, and found the great gateway of the Casa still open.

He limped in, stumped up the stairs, and found the fat and sleek
Basilio on the point of turning off the lights in the sala. The
prosperous majordomo remained open-mouthed at this late invasion.

"Don't put out the lights," commanded the doctor. "I want to see
the senora."

"The senora is in the Senor Adminstrador's cancillaria," said
Basilio, in an unctuous voice. "The Senor Administrador starts
for the mountain in an hour. There is some trouble with the
workmen to be feared, it appears. A shameless people without
reason and decency. And idle, senor. Idle."

"You are shamelessly lazy and imbecile yourself," said the
doctor, with that faculty for exasperation which made him so
generally beloved. "Don't put the lights out."

Basilio retired with dignity. Dr. Monygham, waiting in the
brilliantly lighted sala, heard presently a door close at the
further end of the house. A jingle of spurs died out. The Senor
Administrador was off to the mountain.