Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART THIRD: THE LIGHTHOUSE 12. CHAPTER TWELVE (continued)

"You are welcome like a son," the old man declared, quietly,
staring away upon the sea.

"Ah! thy son. I know. I am what thy son would have been. It is
well, viejo. It is a very good welcome. Listen, I have come to
ask you for----"

A sudden dread came upon the fearless and incorruptible Nostromo.
He dared not utter the name in his mind. The slight pause only
imparted a marked weight and solemnity to the changed end of the
phrase.

"For my wife!" . . . His heart was beating fast." It is time
you----"

The Garibaldino arrested him with an extended arm. "That was
left for you to judge."

He got up slowly. His beard, unclipped since Teresa's death,
thick, snow-white, covered his powerful chest. He turned his head
to the door, and called out in his strong voice--

"Linda."

Her answer came sharp and faint from within; and the appalled
Nostromo stood up, too, but remained mute, gazing at the door. He
was afraid. He was not afraid of being refused the girl he
loved--no mere refusal could stand between him and a woman he
desired--but the shining spectre of the treasure rose before him,
claiming his allegiance in a silence that could not be gainsaid.
He was afraid, because, neither dead nor alive, like the Gringos
on Azuera, he belonged body and soul to the unlawfulness of his
audacity. He was afraid of being forbidden the island. He was
afraid, and said nothing.

Seeing the two men standing up side by side to await her, Linda
stopped in the doorway. Nothing could alter the passionate dead
whiteness of her face; but her black eyes seemed to catch and
concentrate all the light of the low sun in a flaming spark
within the black depths, covered at once by the slow descent of
heavy eyelids.

"Behold thy husband, master, and benefactor." Old Viola's voice
resounded with a force that seemed to fill the whole gulf.