Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard
"Ha! Old Giorgio—the guardian of thine honour! Fancy the fête coming upon me so light of foot, so steady of aim. I myself could have done no better. But the price of a charge of powder might have been saved. The honour was safe. . . . Señora, she would have followed to the end of the world Nostromo the thief. . . . I have said the word. The spell is broken!"
A low moan from the girl made him cast his eyes down.
"I cannot see her. . . . No matter," he went on, with the shadow of the old magnificent carelessness in his voice. "One kiss is enough, if there is no time for more. An airy soul, señora! Bright and warm, like sunshine—soon clouded, and soon serene. They would crush it there between them. Señora, cast the eye of your compassion, as far-famed as the courage and daring of the man who speaks to you, from one end of the land to the other. She will console herself in time. And even Ramirez is not a bad fellow. I am not angry. No! It is not Ramirez who overcame the capataz of the Sulaco cargadores." He paused, made an effort, and in louder voice, a little wildly, declared:
"I die betrayed—betrayed by—"
But he did not say by whom or by what he was dying betrayed.
"She would not have betrayed me," he began again, opening his eyes very wide. "She was faithful. We were going very far—very soon. I could have torn myself away from that accursed treasure for her. For that child I would have left boxes and boxes of it—full. And Decoud took four. Four ingots. Why? Picardia! To betray me? How could I give back
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