Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

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

He spoke in an abrupt, independent tone, but evidently he was
communicative with a purpose. He told Charles Gould that he had
been a ranchero in one of the lower valleys, far south, a
neighbour of Hernandez in the old days, and godfather to his
eldest boy; one of those who joined him in his resistance to the
recruiting raid which was the beginning of all their misfortunes.
It was he that, when his compadre had been carried off, had
buried his wife and children, murdered by the soldiers.

"Si, senor," he muttered, hoarsely, "I and two or three others,
the lucky ones left at liberty, buried them all in one grave near
the ashes of their ranch, under the tree that had shaded its
roof."

It was to him, too, that Hernandez came after he had deserted,
three years afterwards. He had still his uniform on with the
sergeant's stripes on the sleeve, and the blood of his colonel
upon his hands and breast. Three troopers followed him, of those
who had started in pursuit but had ridden on for liberty. And he
told Charles Gould how he and a few friends, seeing those
soldiers, lay in ambush behind some rocks ready to pull the
trigger on them, when he recognized his compadre and jumped up
from cover, shouting his name, because he knew that Hernandez
could not have been coming back on an errand of injustice and
oppression. Those three soldiers, together with the party who lay
behind the rocks, had formed the nucleus of the famous band, and
he, the narrator, had been the favourite lieutenant of Hernandez
for many, many years. He mentioned proudly that the officials had
put a price upon his head, too; but it did not prevent it getting
sprinkled with grey upon his shoulders. And now he had lived long
enough to see his compadre made a general.

He had a burst of muffled laughter. "And now from robbers we have
become soldiers. But look, Caballero, at those who made us
soldiers and him a general! Look at these people!"