Nostromo : A Tale of the Seaboard
"Is she bound to have a very bad time of it?" asked the chief engineer, with humane concern.
Slow, heavy footsteps moved across the planks above the heavy, hard-wood beams of the kitchen. Then down the narrow opening of the staircase made in the thickness of the wall, and narrow enough to be defended by one man against twenty enemies, came the murmur of two voices, one faint and broken, the other deep and gentle answering it, and in its graver tone covering the weaker sound.
The two men remained still and silent till the murmurs ceased; then the doctor shrugged his shoulders and muttered:
"Yes, she's bound to. And I could do nothing if I went up now."
A long period of silence above and below ensued.
"I fancy," began the engineer, in a subdued voice, "that you mistrust Captain Mitchell's capataz."
"Mistrust him," muttered the doctor, through his teeth. "I believe him capable of anything; even of the most absurd fidelity. I am the last person he spoke to before he left the wharf, you know. The poor
woman up there wanted to see him and I let him go up to her. The dying must not be contradicted, you know. She seemed then fairly calm and resigned, but the scoundrel in those ten minutes or so has done or said something which seems to have driven her into despair. You know," went on the doctor, hesitatingly, "women are so very unaccountable, in every position and at all times of life, that I thought sometimes she was, in a way, don't you see? in love with him―—the capataz. The rascal has his own charm indubitably, or
354
