Here Captain Mitchell exclaimed with amazement7, amusement, and indignation, “You said that of Charles Gould!” Disgust, and even some suspicion, crept into his tone, for to him, too, as to other Europeans, there appeared to be something dubious8 about the doctor’s personality.
“What on earth made you say that to this watch-stealing scoundrel?” he asked. “What’s the object of an infernal lie of that sort? That confounded pick-pocket was quite capable of believing you.”
He snorted. For a time the doctor remained silent in the dark.
“Yes, that is exactly what I did say,” he uttered at last, in a tone which would have made it clear enough to a third party that the pause was not of a reluctant but of a reflective character. Captain Mitchell thought that he had never heard anything so brazenly9 impudent10 in his life.
“Well, well!” he muttered to himself, but he had not the heart to voice his thoughts. They were swept away by others full of astonishment11 and regret. A heavy sense of discomfiture12 crushed him: the loss of the silver, the death of Nostromo, which was really quite a blow to his sensibilities, because he had become attached to his Capataz as people get attached to their inferiors from love of ease and almost unconscious gratitude13. And when he thought of Decoud being drowned, too, his sensibility was almost overcome by this miserable14 end. What a heavy blow for that poor young woman! Captain Mitchell did not belong to the species of crabbed15 old bachelors; on the contrary, he liked to see young men paying attentions to young women. It seemed to him a natural and proper thing. Proper especially. As to sailors, it was different; it was not their place to marry, he maintained, but it was on moral grounds as a matter of self-denial, for, he explained, life on board ship is not fit for a woman even at best, and if you leave her on shore, first of all it is not fair, and next she either suffers from it or doesn’t care a bit, which, in both cases, is bad. He couldn’t have told what upset him most — Charles Gould’s immense material loss, the death of Nostromo, which was a heavy loss to himself, or the idea of that beautiful and accomplished16 young woman being plunged17 into mourning.
“Yes,” the doctor, who had been apparently18 reflecting, began again, “he believed me right enough. I thought he would have hugged me. ‘Si, si,’ he said, ‘he will write to that partner of his, the rich Americano in San Francisco, that it is all lost. Why not? There is enough to share with many people.’”
“But this is perfectly19 imbecile!” cried Captain Mitchell.
The doctor remarked that Sotillo was imbecile, and that his imbecility was ingenious enough to lead him completely astray. He had helped him only but a little way.
“I mentioned,” the doctor said, “in a sort of casual way, that treasure is generally buried in the earth rather than set afloat upon the sea. At this my Sotillo slapped his forehead. ‘Por Dios, yes,’ he said; ‘they must have buried it on the shores of this harbour somewhere before they sailed out.’”
“Heavens and earth!” muttered Captain Mitchell, “I should not have believed that anybody could be ass20 enough —” He paused, then went on mournfully: “But what’s the good of all this? It would have been a clever enough lie if the lighter had been still afloat. It would have kept that inconceivable idiot perhaps from sending out the steamer to cruise in the gulf21. That was the danger that worried me no end.” Captain Mitchell sighed profoundly.
“I had an object,” the doctor pronounced, slowly.
“Had you?” muttered Captain Mitchell. “Well, that’s lucky, or else I would have thought that you went on fooling him for the fun of the thing. And perhaps that was your object. Well, I must say I personally wouldn’t condescend23 to that sort of thing. It is not to my taste. No, no. Blackening a friend’s character is not my idea of fun, if it were to fool the greatest blackguard on earth.”
Had it not been for Captain Mitchell’s depression, caused by the fatal news, his disgust of Dr. Monygham would have taken a more outspoken24 shape; but he thought to himself that now it really did not matter what that man, whom he had never liked, would say and do.
“I wonder,” he grumbled26, “why they have shut us up together, or why Sotillo should have shut you up at all, since it seems to me you have been fairly chummy up there?”
“Yes, I wonder,” said the doctor grimly.
Captain Mitchell’s heart was so heavy that he would have preferred for the time being a complete solitude27 to the best of company. But any company would have been preferable to the doctor’s, at whom he had always looked askance as a sort of beachcomber of superior intelligence partly reclaimed28 from his abased29 state. That feeling led him to ask —
“What has that ruffian done with the other two?”
“The chief engineer he would have let go in any case,” said the doctor. “He wouldn’t like to have a quarrel with the railway upon his hands. Not just yet, at any rate. I don’t think, Captain Mitchell, that you understand exactly what Sotillo’s position is —”
“I don’t see why I should bother my head about it,” snarled30 Captain Mitchell.
“No,” assented31 the doctor, with the same grim composure. “I don’t see why you should. It wouldn’t help a single human being in the world if you thought ever so hard upon any subject whatever.”
“No,” said Captain Mitchell, simply, and with evident depression. “A man locked up in a confounded dark hole is not much use to anybody.”
“As to old Viola,” the doctor continued, as though he had not heard, “Sotillo released him for the same reason he is presently going to release you.”
“Eh? What?” exclaimed Captain Mitchell, staring like an owl22 in the darkness. “What is there in common between me and old Viola? More likely because the old chap has no watch and chain for the pickpocket32 to steal. And I tell you what, Dr. Monygham,” he went on with rising choler, “he will find it more difficult than he thinks to get rid of me. He will burn his fingers over that job yet, I can tell you. To begin with, I won’t go without my watch, and as to the rest — we shall see. I dare say it is no great matter for you to be locked up. But Joe Mitchell is a different kind of man, sir. I don’t mean to submit tamely to insult and robbery. I am a public character, sir.”
And then Captain Mitchell became aware that the bars of the opening had become visible, a black grating upon a square of grey. The coming of the day silenced Captain Mitchell as if by the reflection that now in all the future days he would be deprived of the invaluable33 services of his Capataz. He leaned against the wall with his arms folded on his breast, and the doctor walked up and down the whole length of the place with his peculiar34 hobbling gait, as if slinking about on damaged feet. At the end furthest from the grating he would be lost altogether in the darkness. Only the slight limping shuffle35 could be heard. There was an air of moody36 detachment in that painful prowl kept up without a pause. When the door of the prison was suddenly flung open and his name shouted out he showed no surprise. He swerved37 sharply in his walk, and passed out at once, as though much depended upon his speed; but Captain Mitchell remained for some time with his shoulders against the wall, quite undecided in the bitterness of his spirit whether it wouldn’t be better to refuse to stir a limb in the way of protest. He had half a mind to get himself carried out, but after the officer at the door had shouted three or four times in tones of remonstrance38 and surprise he condescended39 to walk out.
Sotillo’s manner had changed. The colonel’s off-hand civility was slightly irresolute40, as though he were in doubt if civility were the proper course in this case. He observed Captain Mitchell attentively41 before he spoke25 from the big armchair behind the table in a condescending42 voice —
“I have concluded not to detain you, Senor Mitchell. I am of a forgiving disposition43. I make allowances. Let this be a lesson to you, however.”
The peculiar dawn of Sulaco, which seems to break far away to the westward44 and creep back into the shade of the mountains, mingled45 with the reddish light of the candles. Captain Mitchell, in sign of contempt and indifference46, let his eyes roam all over the room, and he gave a hard stare to the doctor, perched already on the casement47 of one of the windows, with his eyelids48 lowered, careless and thoughtful — or perhaps ashamed.
Sotillo, ensconced in the vast armchair, remarked, “I should have thought that the feelings of a caballero would have dictated49 to you an appropriate reply.”
He waited for it, but Captain Mitchell remaining mute, more from extreme resentment50 than from reasoned intention, Sotillo hesitated, glanced towards the doctor, who looked up and nodded, then went on with a slight effort —
“Here, Senor Mitchell, is your watch. Learn how hasty and unjust has been your judgment51 of my patriotic52 soldiers.”
Lying back in his seat, he extended his arm over the table and pushed the watch away slightly. Captain Mitchell walked up with undisguised eagerness, put it to his ear, then slipped it into his pocket coolly.
Sotillo seemed to overcome an immense reluctance54. Again he looked aside at the doctor, who stared at him unwinkingly.
But as Captain Mitchell was turning away, without as much as a nod or a glance, he hastened to say —
“You may go and wait downstairs for the senor doctor, whom I am going to liberate55, too. You foreigners are insignificant56, to my mind.”
He forced a slight, discordant57 laugh out of himself, while Captain Mitchell, for the first time, looked at him with some interest.
“The law shall take note later on of your transgressions,” Sotillo hurried on. “But as for me, you can live free, unguarded, unobserved. Do you hear, Senor Mitchell? You may depart to your affairs. You are beneath my notice. My attention is claimed by matters of the very highest importance.”
Captain Mitchell was very nearly provoked to an answer. It displeased58 him to be liberated59 insultingly; but want of sleep, prolonged anxieties, a profound disappointment with the fatal ending of the silver-saving business weighed upon his spirits. It was as much as he could do to conceal60 his uneasiness, not about himself perhaps, but about things in general. It occurred to him distinctly that something underhand was going on. As he went out he ignored the doctor pointedly61.
“A brute63!” said Sotillo, as the door shut.
Dr. Monygham slipped off the window-sill, and, thrusting his hands into the pockets of the long, grey dust coat he was wearing, made a few steps into the room.
Sotillo got up, too, and, putting himself in the way, examined him from head to foot.
“So your countrymen do not confide3 in you very much, senor doctor. They do not love you, eh? Why is that, I wonder?”
The doctor, lifting his head, answered by a long, lifeless stare and the words, “Perhaps because I have lived too long in Costaguana.”
Sotillo had a gleam of white teeth under the black moustache.
“Aha! But you love yourself,” he said, encouragingly.
“If you leave them alone,” the doctor said, looking with the same lifeless stare at Sotillo’s handsome face, “they will betray themselves very soon. Meantime, I may try to make Don Carlos speak?”
“Ah! senor doctor,” said Sotillo, wagging his head, “you are a man of quick intelligence. We were made to understand each other.” He turned away. He could bear no longer that expressionless and motionless stare, which seemed to have a sort of impenetrable emptiness like the black depth of an abyss.
Even in a man utterly64 devoid65 of moral sense there remains66 an appreciation67 of rascality68 which, being conventional, is perfectly clear. Sotillo thought that Dr. Monygham, so different from all Europeans, was ready to sell his countrymen and Charles Gould, his employer, for some share of the San Tome silver. Sotillo did not despise him for that. The colonel’s want of moral sense was of a profound and innocent character. It bordered upon stupidity, moral stupidity. Nothing that served his ends could appear to him really reprehensible69. Nevertheless, he despised Dr. Monygham. He had for him an immense and satisfactory contempt. He despised him with all his heart because he did not mean to let the doctor have any reward at all. He despised him, not as a man without faith and honour, but as a fool. Dr. Monygham’s insight into his character had deceived Sotillo completely. Therefore he thought the doctor a fool.
Since his arrival in Sulaco the colonel’s ideas had undergone some modification70.
He no longer wished for a political career in Montero’s administration. He had always doubted the safety of that course. Since he had learned from the chief engineer that at daylight most likely he would be confronted by Pedro Montero his misgivings71 on that point had considerably72 increased. The guerrillero brother of the general — the Pedrito of popular speech — had a reputation of his own. He wasn’t safe to deal with. Sotillo had vaguely73 planned seizing not only the treasure but the town itself, and then negotiating at leisure. But in the face of facts learned from the chief engineer (who had frankly74 disclosed to him the whole situation) his audacity75, never of a very dashing kind, had been replaced by a most cautious hesitation76.
“An army — an army crossed the mountains under Pedrito already,” he had repeated, unable to hide his consternation77. “If it had not been that I am given the news by a man of your position I would never have believed it. Astonishing!”
“An armed force,” corrected the engineer, suavely78. His aim was attained79. It was to keep Sulaco clear of any armed occupation for a few hours longer, to let those whom fear impelled80 leave the town. In the general dismay there were families hopeful enough to fly upon the road towards Los Hatos, which was left open by the withdrawal81 of the armed rabble82 under Senores Fuentes and Gamacho, to Rincon, with their enthusiastic welcome for Pedro Montero. It was a hasty and risky83 exodus84, and it was said that Hernandez, occupying with his band the woods about Los Hatos, was receiving the fugitives85. That a good many people he knew were contemplating86 such a flight had been well known to the chief engineer.
Father Corbelan’s efforts in the cause of that most pious87 robber had not been altogether fruitless. The political chief of Sulaco had yielded at the last moment to the urgent entreaties89 of the priest, had signed a provisional nomination90 appointing Hernandez a general, and calling upon him officially in this new capacity to preserve order in the town. The fact is that the political chief, seeing the situation desperate, did not care what he signed. It was the last official document he signed before he left the palace of the Intendencia for the refuge of the O.S.N. Company’s office. But even had he meant his act to be effective it was already too late. The riot which he feared and expected broke out in less than an hour after Father Corbelan had left him. Indeed, Father Corbelan, who had appointed a meeting with Nostromo in the Dominican Convent, where he had his residence in one of the cells, never managed to reach the place. From the Intendencia he had gone straight on to the Avellanos’s house to tell his brother-in-law, and though he stayed there no more than half an hour he had found himself cut off from his ascetic91 abode92. Nostromo, after waiting there for some time, watching uneasily the increasing uproar93 in the street, had made his way to the offices of the Porvenir, and stayed there till daylight, as Decoud had mentioned in the letter to his sister. Thus the Capataz, instead of riding towards the Los Hatos woods as bearer of Hernandez’s nomination, had remained in town to save the life of the President Dictator, to assist in repressing the outbreak of the mob, and at last to sail out with the silver of the mine.
But Father Corbelan, escaping to Hernandez, had the document in his pocket, a piece of official writing turning a bandit into a general in a memorable94 last official act of the Ribierist party, whose watchwords were honesty, peace, and progress. Probably neither the priest nor the bandit saw the irony95 of it. Father Corbelan must have found messengers to send into the town, for early on the second day of the disturbances96 there were rumours97 of Hernandez being on the road to Los Hatos ready to receive those who would put themselves under his protection. A strange-looking horseman, elderly and audacious, had appeared in the town, riding slowly while his eyes examined the fronts of the houses, as though he had never seen such high buildings before. Before the cathedral he had dismounted, and, kneeling in the middle of the Plaza98, his bridle99 over his arm and his hat lying in front of him on the ground, had bowed his head, crossing himself and beating his breast for some little time. Remounting his horse, with a fearless but not unfriendly look round the little gathering100 formed about his public devotions, he had asked for the Casa Avellanos. A score of hands were extended in answer, with fingers pointing up the Calle de la Constitucion.
The horseman had gone on with only a glance of casual curiosity upwards101 to the windows of the Amarilla Club at the corner. His stentorian102 voice shouted periodically in the empty street, “Which is the Casa Avellanos?” till an answer came from the scared porter, and he disappeared under the gate. The letter he was bringing, written by Father Corbelan with a pencil by the camp-fire of Hernandez, was addressed to Don Jose, of whose critical state the priest was not aware. Antonia read it, and, after consulting Charles Gould, sent it on for the information of the gentlemen garrisoning103 the Amarilla Club. For herself, her mind was made up; she would rejoin her uncle; she would entrust104 the last day — the last hours perhaps — of her father’s life to the keeping of the bandit, whose existence was a protest against the irresponsible tyranny of all parties alike, against the moral darkness of the land. The gloom of Los Hatos woods was preferable; a life of hardships in the train of a robber band less debasing. Antonia embraced with all her soul her uncle’s obstinate105 defiance106 of misfortune. It was grounded in the belief in the man whom she loved.
In his message the Vicar-General answered upon his head for Hernandez’s fidelity107. As to his power, he pointed62 out that he had remained unsubdued for so many years. In that letter Decoud’s idea of the new Occidental State (whose flourishing and stable condition is a matter of common knowledge now) was for the first time made public and used as an argument. Hernandez, ex-bandit and the last general of Ribierist creation, was confident of being able to hold the tract108 of country between the woods of Los Hatos and the coast range till that devoted109 patriot53, Don Martin Decoud, could bring General Barrios back to Sulaco for the reconquest of the town.
“Heaven itself wills it. Providence110 is on our side,” wrote Father Corbelan; there was no time to reflect upon or to controvert111 his statement; and if the discussion started upon the reading of that letter in the Amarilla Club was violent, it was also shortlived. In the general bewilderment of the collapse112 some jumped at the idea with joyful113 astonishment as upon the amazing discovery of a new hope. Others became fascinated by the prospect114 of immediate115 personal safety for their women and children. The majority caught at it as a drowning man catches at a straw. Father Corbelan was unexpectedly offering them a refuge from Pedrito Montero with his llaneros allied116 to Senores Fuentes and Gamacho with their armed rabble.
All the latter part of the afternoon an animated117 discussion went on in the big rooms of the Amarilla Club. Even those members posted at the windows with rifles and carbines to guard the end of the street in case of an offensive return of the populace shouted their opinions and arguments over their shoulders. As dusk fell Don Juste Lopez, inviting118 those caballeros who were of his way of thinking to follow him, withdrew into the corredor, where at a little table in the light of two candles he busied himself in composing an address, or rather a solemn declaration to be presented to Pedrito Montero by a deputation of such members of Assembly as had elected to remain in town. His idea was to propitiate119 him in order to save the form at least of parliamentary institutions. Seated before a blank sheet of paper, a goose-quill pen in his hand and surged upon from all sides, he turned to the right and to the left, repeating with solemn insistence120 —
“Caballeros, a moment of silence! A moment of silence! We ought to make it clear that we bow in all good faith to the accomplished facts.”
The utterance121 of that phrase seemed to give him a melancholy122 satisfaction. The hubbub123 of voices round him was growing strained and hoarse124. In the sudden pauses the excited grimacing125 of the faces would sink all at once into the stillness of profound dejection.
Meantime, the exodus had begun. Carretas full of ladies and children rolled swaying across the Plaza, with men walking or riding by their side; mounted parties followed on mules126 and horses; the poorest were setting out on foot, men and women carrying bundles, clasping babies in their arms, leading old people, dragging along the bigger children. When Charles Gould, after leaving the doctor and the engineer at the Casa Viola, entered the town by the harbour gate, all those that had meant to go were gone, and the others had barricaded127 themselves in their houses. In the whole dark street there was only one spot of flickering128 lights and moving figures, where the Senor Administrador recognized his wife’s carriage waiting at the door of the Avellanos’s house. He rode up, almost unnoticed, and looked on without a word while some of his own servants came out of the gate carrying Don Jose Avellanos, who, with closed eyes and motionless features, appeared perfectly lifeless. His wife and Antonia walked on each side of the improvised129 stretcher, which was put at once into the carriage. The two women embraced; while from the other side of the landau Father Corbelan’s emissary, with his ragged130 beard all streaked131 with grey, and high, bronzed cheek-bones, stared, sitting upright in the saddle. Then Antonia, dry-eyed, got in by the side of the stretcher, and, after making the sign of the cross rapidly, lowered a thick veil upon her face. The servants and the three or four neighbours who had come to assist, stood back, uncovering their heads. On the box, Ignacio, resigned now to driving all night (and to having perhaps his throat cut before daylight) looked back surlily over his shoulder.
“Drive carefully,” cried Mrs. Gould in a tremulous voice.
“Si, carefully; si nina,” he mumbled132, chewing his lips, his round leathery cheeks quivering. And the landau rolled slowly out of the light.
“I will see them as far as the ford133,” said Charles Gould to his wife. She stood on the edge of the sidewalk with her hands clasped lightly, and nodded to him as he followed after the carriage. And now the windows of the Amarilla Club were dark. The last spark of resistance had died out. Turning his head at the corner, Charles Gould saw his wife crossing over to their own gate in the lighted patch of the street. One of their neighbours, a well-known merchant and landowner of the province, followed at her elbow, talking with great gestures. As she passed in all the lights went out in the street, which remained dark and empty from end to end.
The houses of the vast Plaza were lost in the night. High up, like a star, there was a small gleam in one of the towers of the cathedral; and the equestrian134 statue gleamed pale against the black trees of the Alameda, like a ghost of royalty135 haunting the scenes of revolution. The rare prowlers they met ranged themselves against the wall. Beyond the last houses the carriage rolled noiselessly on the soft cushion of dust, and with a greater obscurity a feeling of freshness seemed to fall from the foliage136 of the trees bordering the country road. The emissary from Hernandez’s camp pushed his horse close to Charles Gould.
“Caballero,” he said in an interested voice, “you are he whom they call the King of Sulaco, the master of the mine? Is it not so?”
“Yes, I am the master of the mine,” answered Charles Gould.
The man cantered for a time in silence, then said, “I have a brother, a sereno in your service in the San Tome valley. You have proved yourself a just man. There has been no wrong done to any one since you called upon the people to work in the mountains. My brother says that no official of the Government, no oppressor of the Campo, has been seen on your side of the stream. Your own officials do not oppress the people in the gorge137. Doubtless they are afraid of your severity. You are a just man and a powerful one,” he added.
He spoke in an abrupt138, 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 eldest140 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, hoarsely141, “I and two or three others, the lucky ones left at liberty, buried them all in one grave near the ashes of their ranch139, under the tree that had shaded its roof.”
It was to him, too, that Hernandez came after he had deserted142, 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 ambush143 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 injustice144 and oppression. Those three soldiers, together with the party who lay behind the rocks, had formed the nucleus145 of the famous band, and he, the narrator, had been the favourite lieutenant146 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 muffled147 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!”
Ignacio shouted. The light of the carriage lamps, running along the nopal hedges that crowned the bank on each side, flashed upon the scared faces of people standing148 aside in the road, sunk deep, like an English country lane, into the soft soil of the Campo. They cowered149; their eyes glistened150 very big for a second; and then the light, running on, fell upon the half-denuded roots of a big tree, on another stretch of nopal hedge, caught up another bunch of faces glaring back apprehensively151. Three women — of whom one was carrying a child — and a couple of men in civilian152 dress — one armed with a sabre and another with a gun — were grouped about a donkey carrying two bundles tied up in blankets. Further on Ignacio shouted again to pass a carreta, a long wooden box on two high wheels, with the door at the back swinging open. Some ladies in it must have recognized the white mules, because they screamed out, “Is it you, Dona Emilia?”
At the turn of the road the glare of a big fire filled the short stretch vaulted153 over by the branches meeting overhead. Near the ford of a shallow stream a roadside rancho of woven rushes and a roof of grass had been set on fire by accident, and the flames, roaring viciously, lit up an open space blocked with horses, mules, and a distracted, shouting crowd of people. When Ignacio pulled up, several ladies on foot assailed154 the carriage, begging Antonia for a seat. To their clamour she answered by pointing silently to her father.
“I must leave you here,” said Charles Gould, in the uproar. The flames leaped up sky-high, and in the recoil155 from the scorching156 heat across the road the stream of fugitives pressed against the carriage. A middle-aged157 lady dressed in black silk, but with a coarse manta over her head and a rough branch for a stick in her hand, staggered against the front wheel. Two young girls, frightened and silent, were clinging to her arms. Charles Gould knew her very well.
“Misericordia! We are getting terribly bruised158 in this crowd!” she exclaimed, smiling up courageously159 to him. “We have started on foot. All our servants ran away yesterday to join the democrats160. We are going to put ourselves under the protection of Father Corbelan, of your sainted uncle, Antonia. He has wrought161 a miracle in the heart of a most merciless robber. A miracle!”
She raised her voice gradually up to a scream as she was borne along by the pressure of people getting out of the way of some carts coming up out of the ford at a gallop162, with loud yells and cracking of whips. Great masses of sparks mingled with black smoke flew over the road; the bamboos of the walls detonated in the fire with the sound of an irregular fusillade. And then the bright blaze sank suddenly, leaving only a red dusk crowded with aimless dark shadows drifting in contrary directions; the noise of voices seemed to die away with the flame; and the tumult163 of heads, arms, quarrelling, and imprecations passed on fleeing into the darkness.
“I must leave you now,” repeated Charles Gould to Antonia. She turned her head slowly and uncovered her face. The emissary and compadre of Hernandez spurred his horse close up.
“Has not the master of the mine any message to send to Hernandez, the master of the Campo?”
The truth of the comparison struck Charles Gould heavily. In his determined164 purpose he held the mine, and the indomitable bandit held the Campo by the same precarious165 tenure166. They were equals before the lawlessness of the land. It was impossible to disentangle one’s activity from its debasing contacts. A close-meshed net of crime and corruption167 lay upon the whole country. An immense and weary discouragement sealed his lips for a time.
“You are a just man,” urged the emissary of Hernandez. “Look at those people who made my compadre a general and have turned us all into soldiers. Look at those oligarchs fleeing for life, with only the clothes on their backs. My compadre does not think of that, but our followers168 may be wondering greatly, and I would speak for them to you. Listen, senor! For many months now the Campo has been our own. We need ask no man for anything; but soldiers must have their pay to live honestly when the wars are over. It is believed that your soul is so just that a prayer from you would cure the sickness of every beast, like the orison of the upright judge. Let me have some words from your lips that would act like a charm upon the doubts of our partida, where all are men.”
“Do you hear what he says?” Charles Gould said in English to Antonia.
“Forgive us our misery169!” she exclaimed, hurriedly. “It is your character that is the inexhaustible treasure which may save us all yet; your character, Carlos, not your wealth. I entreat88 you to give this man your word that you will accept any arrangement my uncle may make with their chief. One word. He will want no more.”
On the site of the roadside hut there remained nothing but an enormous heap of embers, throwing afar a darkening red glow, in which Antonia’s face appeared deeply flushed with excitement. Charles Gould, with only a short hesitation, pronounced the required pledge. He was like a man who had ventured on a precipitous path with no room to turn, where the only chance of safety is to press forward. At that moment he understood it thoroughly170 as he looked down at Don Jose stretched out, hardly breathing, by the side of the erect171 Antonia, vanquished172 in a lifelong struggle with the powers of moral darkness, whose stagnant173 depths breed monstrous174 crimes and monstrous illusions. In a few words the emissary from Hernandez expressed his complete satisfaction. Stoically Antonia lowered her veil, resisting the longing175 to inquire about Decoud’s escape. But Ignacio leered morosely176 over his shoulder.
“Take a good look at the mules, mi amo,” he grumbled. “You shall never see them again!”
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1
rapacity
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| n.贪婪，贪心，劫掠的欲望 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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7
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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8
dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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9
brazenly
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| adv.厚颜无耻地；厚脸皮地肆无忌惮地 | |
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10
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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11
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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12
discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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13
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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14
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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15
crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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17
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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18
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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19
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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20
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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21
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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22
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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23
condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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24
outspoken
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| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
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25
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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26
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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27
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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28
reclaimed
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| adj.再生的；翻造的；收复的；回收的v.开拓( reclaim的过去式和过去分词 )；要求收回；从废料中回收（有用的材料）；挽救 | |
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29
abased
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| 使谦卑( abase的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到羞耻； 使降低（地位、身份等）； 降下 | |
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30
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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31
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
pickpocket
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| n.扒手；v.扒窃 | |
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33
invaluable
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| adj.无价的，非常宝贵的，极为贵重的 | |
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34
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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35
shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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36
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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37
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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39
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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40
irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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41
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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42
condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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43
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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44
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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45
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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46
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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47
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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48
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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49
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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50
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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51
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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52
patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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53
patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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54
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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55
liberate
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| v.解放，使获得自由，释出，放出；vt.解放，使获自由 | |
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56
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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57
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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58
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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59
liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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60
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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61
pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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62
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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63
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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64
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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65
devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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66
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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67
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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68
rascality
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| 流氓性，流氓集团 | |
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69
reprehensible
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| adj.该受责备的 | |
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70
modification
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| n.修改，改进，缓和，减轻 | |
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71
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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72
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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73
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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74
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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75
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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76
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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77
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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78
suavely
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79
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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80
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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82
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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83
risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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84
exodus
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| v.大批离去，成群外出 | |
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85
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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86
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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87
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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88
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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89
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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90
nomination
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| n.提名，任命，提名权 | |
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91
ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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92
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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93
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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94
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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95
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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96
disturbances
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| n.骚乱( disturbance的名词复数 )；打扰；困扰；障碍 | |
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97
rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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98
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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99
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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100
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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101
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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102
stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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103
garrisoning
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| 卫戍部队守备( garrison的现在分词 )； 派部队驻防 | |
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104
entrust
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| v.信赖，信托，交托 | |
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105
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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106
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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107
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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108
tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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109
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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110
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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111
controvert
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| v.否定；否认 | |
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112
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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113
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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114
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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115
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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116
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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117
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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118
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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119
propitiate
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| v.慰解，劝解 | |
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120
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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121
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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122
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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123
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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124
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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125
grimacing
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的现在分词 ) | |
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126
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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127
barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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128
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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129
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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130
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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131
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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132
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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134
equestrian
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| adj.骑马的；n.马术 | |
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135
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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136
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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137
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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138
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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139
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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140
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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141
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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142
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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143
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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144
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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145
nucleus
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| n.核，核心，原子核 | |
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146
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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147
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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148
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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149
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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150
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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151
apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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152
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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153
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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154
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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155
recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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156
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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157
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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158
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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159
courageously
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| ad.勇敢地，无畏地 | |
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160
democrats
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
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161
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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162
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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163
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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164
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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165
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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166
tenure
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| n.终身职位；任期；(土地)保有权，保有期 | |
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167
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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168
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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169
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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170
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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171
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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172
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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173
stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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174
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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175
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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176
morosely
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| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
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