Ностромо

           Themorningwaswearingon;therewerealreadysignsofdisruption,currentsandeddiesinthecrowd.SomewereseekingtheshadeofthewallsandunderthetreesoftheAlameda.Horsemenspurredthrough,shouting;groupsofsombrerossetlevelonheadsagainsttheverticalsunweredriftingawayintothestreets,wheretheopendoorsofpulperiasrevealedanenticinggloomresoundingwiththegentletinklingofguitars.TheNationalGuardswerethinkingofsiesta,andtheeloquenceofGamacho,theirchief,wasexhausted.Lateron,when,inthecoolerhoursoftheafternoon,theytriedtoassembleagainforfurtherconsiderationofpublicaffairs,detachmentsofMontero’scavalrycampedontheAlamedachargedthemwithoutparley,atspeed,withlonglanceslevelledattheirflyingbacksasfarastheendsofthestreets.TheNationalGuardsofSulacoweresurprisedbythisproceeding.Buttheywerenotindignant.NoCostaguanerohadeverlearnedtoquestiontheeccentricitiesofamilitaryforce.Theywerepartofthenaturalorderofthings.Thismustbe,theyconcluded,somekindofadministrativemeasure,nodoubt.Butthemotiveofitescapedtheirunaidedintelligence,andtheirchiefandorator,Gamacho,CommandanteoftheNationalGuard,waslyingdrunkandasleepinthebosomofhisfamily.Hisbarefeetwereupturnedintheshadowsrepulsively,inthemannerofacorpse.Hiseloquentmouthhaddroppedopen.Hisyoungestdaughter,scratchingherheadwithonehand,withtheotherwavedagreenboughoverhisscorchedandpeelingface.