Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard
fever had overtaken the "muy valiente" colonel. A wavering wildness of expression caused by the passing waves of a slight colic which had declared itself suddenly, and the rattling teeth of repressed panic had a genuineness which impressed the envoy. It was a cold fit. The colonel explained that he was unable to think, to listen, to speak. With an appearance of superhuman effort the colonel gasped out that he was not in a state to return a suitable reply or to execute any of his Excellency's orders. But, to-morrow! To-morrow! Ah! to-morrow. Let his Excellency Don Pedro be without uneasiness. The brave Esmeralda regiment held the harbor, held—And closing his eyes he rolled his aching head like a half-delirious invalid under the inquisitive stare of the envoy, who I was obliged to bend down over the hammock in order to catch the painful and broken accents. Meantime, Colonel Sotillo trusted that his Excellency's humanity would permit the doctor, the English doctor, to come out of town with his case of foreign remedies to attend upon him. He begged anxiously his worship the caballero now present for the grace of looking in as he passed the Casa Gould, and informing the English doctor, who was probably there, that his services were immediately required by Colonel Sotillo, lying ill of fever in the custom-house. Immediately. Most urgently required. Awaited with extreme impatience. A thousand thanks. He closed his eyes wearily and would not open them again, lying perfectly still, deaf, dumb, insensible, overcome, vanquished, crushed, annihilated by the fell disease.
But as soon as the other had shut after him the
496
