PART SECOND: THE ISABELS
6. CHAPTER SIX
 (continued)
Decoud admitted that it was possible.  He knew well the town
 
children of the Sulaco Campo: sullen, thievish, vindictive, and
 
bloodthirsty, whatever great qualities their brothers of the
 
plain might have had.  But then there was that other
 
sentimentalist, who attached a strangely idealistic meaning to
 
concrete facts. This stream of silver must be kept flowing north
 
to return in the form of financial backing from the great house
 
of Holroyd. Up at the mountain in the strong room of the mine the
 
silver bars were worth less for his purpose than so much lead,
 
from which at least bullets may be run. Let it come down to the
 
harbour, ready for shipment. 
 
The next north-going steamer would carry it off for the very
 
salvation of the San Tome mine, which had produced so much
 
treasure.  And, moreover, the rumour was probably false, he
 
remarked, with much conviction in his hurried tone. 
 
"Besides, senora," concluded Decoud, "we may suppress it for many
 
days. I have been talking with the telegraphist in the middle of
 
the Plaza Mayor; thus I am certain that we could not have been
 
overheard.  There was not even a bird in the air near us. And
 
also let me tell you something more. I have been making friends
 
with this man called Nostromo, the Capataz.  We had a
 
conversation this very evening, I walking by the side of his
 
horse as he rode slowly out of the town just now. He promised me
 
that if a riot took place for any reason--even for the most
 
political of reasons, you understand--his Cargadores, an
 
important part of the populace, you will admit, should be found
 
on the side of the Europeans." 
 
"He has promised you that?" Mrs. Gould inquired, with interest.
 
"What made him make that promise to you?" 
 
"Upon my word, I don't know," declared Decoud, in a slightly
 
surprised tone. "He certainly promised me that, but now you ask
 
me why, I could not tell you his reasons. He talked with his
 
usual carelessness, which, if he had been anything else but a
 
common sailor, I would call a pose or an affectation." 
 
Decoud, interrupting himself, looked at Mrs. Gould curiously. 
 
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