Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard
far from the eyes of his fellows. He was eminently (it to appreciate the mental image he made for himself of the capataz, after hours of tension and anxiety precipitated suddenly into an abyss of waters and darkness, without earth or sky, and confronting it not only with an undismayed mind but with sensible success. Of course the man was an incomparable swimmer, that was known; but the doctor judged that this instance testified to a still greater intrepidity of spirit. It was pleasing to him; he augured well from it for the success of the arduous mission with which he meant to intrust the capataz, so marvellously restored to usefulness. And in a tone vaguely gratified he observed:
"It must have been terribly dark!"
"It was the worst darkness of the Golfo," the capataz assented, briefly. He was mollified by what seemed a sign of some faint interest in such things as had befallen him, and , dropped a few descriptive phrases with an affected and curt nonchalance. At that moment he felt communicative. He expected the continuance of that interest which, whether accepted or rejected, would have restored to him his personality—the only thing lost in that desperate affair. But the doctor, engrossed by a desperate adventure of his own, was terrible in the pursuit of his idea. He let an exclamation of regret escape him.
"I could almost wish you had shouted and shown a light."
This unexpected utterance astounded the capataz by its character of cold-blooded atrocity. It was as much as to say: "I wish you had shown vourself a
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