Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART SECOND: THE ISABELS 7. CHAPTER SEVEN (continued)

"Caramba!" said Nostromo, suddenly, during one of those intervals
when they lolled idly against the heavy handles of the sweeps.
"What is it? Are you distressed, Don Martin?"

Decoud assured him that he was not distressed in the least.
Nostromo for a time kept perfectly still, and then in a whisper
invited Martin to come aft.

With his lips touching Decoud's ear he declared his belief that
there was somebody else besides themselves upon the lighter.
Twice now he had heard the sound of stifled sobbing.

"Senor," he whispered with awed wonder, "I am certain that there
is somebody weeping in this lighter."

Decoud had heard nothing. He expressed his incredulity. However,
it was easy to ascertain the truth of the matter.

"It is most amazing," muttered Nostromo. "Could anybody have
concealed himself on board while the lighter was lying alongside
the wharf?"

"And you say it was like sobbing?" asked Decoud, lowering his
voice, too. "If he is weeping, whoever he is he cannot be very
dangerous."

Clambering over the precious pile in the middle, they crouched
low on the foreside of the mast and groped under the half-deck.
Right forward, in the narrowest part, their hands came upon the
limbs of a man, who remained as silent as death. Too startled
themselves to make a sound, they dragged him aft by one arm and
the collar of his coat. He was limp--lifeless.

The light of the bit of candle fell upon a round, hook-nosed face
with black moustaches and little side-whiskers. He was extremely
dirty. A greasy growth of beard was sprouting on the shaven parts
of the cheeks. The thick lips were slightly parted, but the eyes
remained closed. Decoud, to his immense astonishment, recognized
Senor Hirsch, the hide merchant from Esmeralda. Nostromo, too,
had recognized him. And they gazed at each other across the body,
lying with its naked feet higher than its head, in an absurd
pretence of sleep, faintness, or death.