Ностромо
Chapter 7
“Coulditbethatthereisanotherboatnearusinthegulf?Wecouldnotseeit,youknow.”
Nostromolaughedalittleattheabsurdityoftheidea.Theydismisseditfromtheirminds.Thesolitudecouldalmostbefelt.Andwhenthebreezeceased,theblacknessseemedtoweighuponDecoudlikeastone.
“Thisisoverpowering,”hemuttered.“Dowemoveatall,Capataz?”
“Notsofastasacrawlingbeetletangledinthegrass,”answeredNostromo,andhisvoiceseemeddeadenedbythethickveilofobscuritythatfeltwarmandhopelessallaboutthem.Therewerelongperiodswhenhemadenosound,invisibleandinaudibleasifhehadmysteriouslysteppedoutofthelighter.
InthefeaturelessnightNostromowasnotevencertainwhichwaythelighterheadedafterthewindhadcompletelydiedout.Hepeeredfortheislands.Therewasnotahintofthemtobeseen,asiftheyhadsunktothebottomofthegulf.HethrewhimselfdownbythesideofDecoudatlast,andwhisperedintohisearthatifdaylightcaughtthemneartheSulacoshorethroughwantofwind,itwouldbepossibletosweepthelighterbehindthecliffatthehighendoftheGreatIsabel,whereshewouldlieconcealed.Decoudwassurprisedatthegrimnessofhisanxiety.Tohimtheremovalofthetreasurewasapoliticalmove.ItwasnecessaryforseveralreasonsthatitshouldnotfallintothehandsofMontero,butherewasamanwhotookanotherviewofthisenterprise.