Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART SECOND: THE ISABELS 5. CHAPTER FIVE (continued)

Behind their backs the political tide that once in every
twenty-four hours set with a strong flood through the Gould
drawing-room could be heard, rising higher in a hum of voices.
Men had been dropping in singly, or in twos and threes: the
higher officials of the province, engineers of the railway,
sunburnt and in tweeds, with the frosted head of their chief
smiling with slow, humorous indulgence amongst the young eager
faces. Scarfe, the lover of fandangos, had already slipped out in
search of some dance, no matter where, on the outskirts of the
town. Don Juste Lopez, after taking his daughters home, had
entered solemnly, in a black creased coat buttoned up under his
spreading brown beard. The few members of the Provincial Assembly
present clustered at once around their President to discuss the
news of the war and the last proclamation of the rebel Montero,
the miserable Montero, calling in the name of "a justly incensed
democracy" upon all the Provincial Assemblies of the Republic to
suspend their sittings till his sword had made peace and the will
of the people could be consulted. It was practically an
invitation to dissolve: an unheard-of audacity of that evil
madman.

The indignation ran high in the knot of deputies behind Jose
Avellanos. Don Jose, lifting up his voice, cried out to them over
the high back of his chair, "Sulaco has answered by sending
to-day an army upon his flank. If all the other provinces show
only half as much patriotism as we Occidentals--"

A great outburst of acclamations covered the vibrating treble of
the life and soul of the party. Yes! Yes! This was true! A great
truth! Sulaco was in the forefront, as ever! It was a boastful
tumult, the hopefulness inspired by the event of the day breaking
out amongst those caballeros of the Campo thinking of their
herds, of their lands, of the safety of their families.
Everything was at stake. . . . No! It was impossible that Montero
should succeed! This criminal, this shameless Indio! The clamour
continued for some time, everybody else in the room looking
towards the group where Don Juste had put on his air of impartial
solemnity as if presiding at a sitting of the Provincial
Assembly. Decoud had turned round at the noise, and, leaning his
back on the balustrade, shouted into the room with all the
strength of his lungs, "Gran' bestia!"