Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

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

But Father Corbelan, escaping to Hernandez, had the document in
his pocket, a piece of official writing turning a bandit into a
general in a memorable last official act of the Ribierist party,
whose watchwords were honesty, peace, and progress. Probably
neither the priest nor the bandit saw the irony of it. Father
Corbelan must have found messengers to send into the town, for
early on the second day of the disturbances there were rumours of
Hernandez being on the road to Los Hatos ready to receive those
who would put themselves under his protection. A strange-looking
horseman, elderly and audacious, had appeared in the town, riding
slowly while his eyes examined the fronts of the houses, as
though he had never seen such high buildings before. Before the
cathedral he had dismounted, and, kneeling in the middle of the
Plaza, his bridle over his arm and his hat lying in front of him
on the ground, had bowed his head, crossing himself and beating
his breast for some little time. Remounting his horse, with a
fearless but not unfriendly look round the little gathering
formed about his public devotions, he had asked for the Casa
Avellanos. A score of hands were extended in answer, with fingers
pointing up the Calle de la Constitucion.

The horseman had gone on with only a glance of casual curiosity
upwards to the windows of the Amarilla Club at the corner. His
stentorian voice shouted periodically in the empty street, "Which
is the Casa Avellanos?" till an answer came from the scared
porter, and he disappeared under the gate. The letter he was
bringing, written by Father Corbelan with a pencil by the
camp-fire of Hernandez, was addressed to Don Jose, of whose
critical state the priest was not aware. Antonia read it, and,
after consulting Charles Gould, sent it on for the information of
the gentlemen garrisoning the Amarilla Club. For herself, her
mind was made up; she would rejoin her uncle; she would entrust
the last day--the last hours perhaps--of her father's life to the
keeping of the bandit, whose existence was a protest against the
irresponsible tyranny of all parties alike, against the moral
darkness of the land. The gloom of Los Hatos woods was
preferable; a life of hardships in the train of a robber band
less debasing. Antonia embraced with all her soul her uncle's
obstinate defiance of misfortune. It was grounded in the belief
in the man whom she loved.