Ностромо
Chapter 7
Imperialdemocracywasthepowerofthefuture.Pedrito,theguerrillero,showinghishand,loweredhisvoiceforcibly.Amansingledoutbyhisfellow-citizensforthehonourablenicknameofElReydeSulacocouldnotbutreceiveafullrecognitionfromanimperialdemocracyasagreatcaptainofindustryandapersonofweightycounsel,whosepopulardesignationwouldbesoonreplacedbyamoresolidtitle.“Eh,DonCarlos?No!Whatdoyousay?CondedeSulaco—Eh?—ormarquis...”
Heceased.TheairwascoolonthePlaza,whereapatrolofcavalryroderoundandroundwithoutpenetratingintothestreets,whichresoundedwithshoutsandthestrummingofguitarsissuingfromtheopendoorsofpulperias.Theorderswerenottointerferewiththeenjoymentsofthepeople.Andabovetheroofs,nexttotheperpendicularlinesofthecathedraltowersthesnowycurveofHiguerotablockedalargespaceofdarkeningblueskybeforethewindowsoftheIntendencia.AfteratimePedritoMontero,thrustinghishandinthebosomofhiscoat,bowedhisheadwithslowdignity.Theaudiencewasover.
CharlesGouldongoingoutpassedhishandoverhisforeheadasiftodispersethemistsofanoppressivedream,whosegrotesqueextravaganceleavesbehindasubtlesenseofbodilydangerandintellectualdecay.InthepassagesandonthestaircasesoftheoldpalaceMontero’stroopersloungedaboutinsolently,smokingandmakingwayfornoone;theclankingofsabresandspursresoundedalloverthebuilding.
