Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART THIRD: THE LIGHTHOUSE 9. CHAPTER NINE (continued)

The other wheeled his horse to face the portal resembling the
high gate of a dismal barn. He raised himself in his stirrups,
extended one arm. He was a facetious scoundrel, entertaining for
these stupid Occidentals a feeling of great scorn natural in a
native from the central provinces. The folly of Esmeraldians
especially aroused his amused contempt. He began an oration upon
Pedro Montero, keeping a solemn countenance. He flourished his
hand as if introducing him to their notice. And when he saw every
face set, all the eyes fixed upon his lips, he began to shout a
sort of catalogue of perfections: "Generous, valorous, affable,
profound"--(he snatched off his hat enthusiastically)--"a
statesman, an invincible chief of partisans--" He dropped his
voice startlingly to a deep, hollow note--"and a dentist."

He was off instantly at a smart walk; the rigid straddle of his
legs, the turned-out feet, the stiff back, the rakish slant of
the sombrero above the square, motionless set of the shoulders
expressing an infinite, awe-inspiring impudence.

Upstairs, behind the jalousies, Sotillo did not move for a long
time. The audacity of the fellow appalled him. What were his
officers saying below? They were saying nothing. Complete
silence. He quaked. It was not thus that he had imagined himself
at that stage of the expedition. He had seen himself triumphant,
unquestioned, appeased, the idol of the soldiers, weighing in
secret complacency the agreeable alternatives of power and wealth
open to his choice. Alas! How different! Distracted, restless,
supine, burning with fury, or frozen with terror, he felt a dread
as fathomless as the sea creep upon him from every side. That
rogue of a doctor had to come out with his information. That was
clear. It would be of no use to him--alone. He could do nothing
with it. Malediction! The doctor would never come out. He was
probably under arrest already, shut up together with Don Carlos.
He laughed aloud insanely. Ha! ha! ha! ha! It was Pedrito Montero
who would get the information. Ha! ha! ha! ha!--and the silver.
Ha!

All at once, in the midst of the laugh, he became motionless and
silent as if turned into stone. He too, had a prisoner. A
prisoner who must, must know the real truth. He would have to be
made to speak. And Sotillo, who all that time had not quite
forgotten Hirsch, felt an inexplicable reluctance at the notion
of proceeding to extremities.