Ностромо
Chapter 8
“Betrayed!Betrayed!”hemutteredtohimself.Noonecared.Hemighthavebeendrownedbythistime.Noonewouldhavecared—unless,perhaps,thechildren,hethoughttohimself.ButtheywerewiththeEnglishsignora,andnotthinkingofhimatall.
HewaveredinhispurposeofmakingstraightfortheCasaViola.Towhatend?Whatcouldheexpectthere?Hislifeseemedtofailhiminallitsdetails,eventothescornfulreproachesofTeresa.Hewasawarepainfullyofhisreluctance.Wasitthatremorsewhichshehadprophesiedwith,whathesawnow,washerlastbreath?
Meantime,hehaddeviatedfromthestraightcourse,incliningbyasortofinstincttotheright,towardsthejettyandtheharbour,thesceneofhisdailylabours.ThegreatlengthoftheCustomHouseloomedupallatoncelikethewallofafactory.Notasoulchallengedhisapproach,andhiscuriositybecameexcitedashepassedcautiouslytowardsthefrontbytheunexpectedsightoftwolightedwindows.
Theyhadthefascinationofalonelyvigilkeptbysomemysteriouswatcherupthere,thosetwowindowsshiningdimlyupontheharbourinthewholevastextentoftheabandonedbuilding.Thesolitudecouldalmostbefelt.Astrongsmellofwoodsmokehungaboutinathinhaze,whichwasfaintlyperceptibletohisraisedeyesagainsttheglitterofthestars.Asheadvancedintheprofoundsilence,theshrillingofinnumerablecicalasinthedrygrassseemedpositivelydeafeningtohisstrainedears.
