Ностромо
Chapter 8
TheCapatazwasheardstrikingthetablewithhisfist.“Everything?Whatareyousaying,there?Everything?Knoweverything?Itisimpossible!Everything?”
“Ofcourse.Whatdoyoumeanbyimpossible?ItellyouIhaveheardthisHirschquestionedlastnight,here,inthisveryroom.Heknewyourname,Decoud’sname,andallabouttheloadingofthesilver....Thelighterwascutintwo.HewasgrovellinginabjectterrorbeforeSotillo,butherememberedthatmuch.Whatdoyouwantmore?Heknewleastabouthimself.Theyfoundhimclingingtotheiranchor.Hemusthavecaughtatitjustasthelighterwenttothebottom.”
“Wenttothebottom?”repeatedNostromo,slowly.“Sotillobelievesthat?Bueno!”
Thedoctor,alittleimpatiently,wasunabletoimaginewhatelsecouldanybodybelieve.Yes,Sotillobelievedthatthelighterwassunk,andtheCapatazdeCargadores,togetherwithMartinDecoudandperhapsoneortwootherpoliticalfugitives,hadbeendrowned.
“Itoldyouwell,senordoctor,”remarkedNostromoatthatpoint,“thatSotillodidnotknoweverything.”
“Eh?Whatdoyoumean?”
“HedidnotknowIwasnotdead.”
“Neitherdidwe.”
“Andyoudidnotcare—noneofyoucaballerosonthewharf—onceyougotoffamanoffleshandbloodlikeyourselvesonafool’sbusinessthatcouldnotendwell.
