Decoud, incorrigible in his scepticism, reflected, not cynically, but with general satisfaction, that this man was made incorruptible by his enormous vanity, that finest form of egoism which can take on the aspect of every virtue.
Nostromo ceased baling, and, as if struck with a sudden thought, dropped the bucket with a clatter into the lighter.
`Have you any message?' he asked in a lowered voice. `Remember, I shall be asked questions.'
`You must find the hopeful words that ought to be spoken to the people in town. I trust for that your intelligence and your experience, Capataz.
You understand?'
` Si, senor . . . For the ladies.'
`Yes, yes,' said Decoud, hastily. `Your wonderful reputation will make them attach great value to your words; therefore be careful what you say.
I am looking forward,' he continued, feeling the fatal touch of contempt for himself to which his complex nature was subject, `I am looking forward to a glorious and successful ending to my mission. Do you hear, Capataz?
Use the words glorious and successful when you speak to the senorita .
Your own mission is accomplished gloriously and successfully. You have indubitably saved the silver of the mine. Not only this silver, but probably all the silver that shall ever come out of it.'
Nostromo detected the ironic tone. `I dare say, Senor Don Martin,' he said, moodily. `There are very few things that I am not equal to. Ask the foreign signori . I, a man of the people, who cannot always understand what you mean. But as to this lot which I must leave here, let me tell you that I would believe it in greater safety if you had not been with me at all.'
An exclamation escaped Decoud, and a short pause followed. `Shall Igo back with you to Sulaco?' he asked in an angry tone.
`Shall I strike you dead with my knife where you stand?' retorted Nostromo, contemptuously. `It would be the same thing as taking you to Sulaco. Come, senor . Your reputation is in your politics, and mine is bound up with the fate of this silver. Do you wonder I wish there had been no other man to share my knowledge? I wanted no one with me, senor .'
`You could not have kept the lighter afloat without me,' Decoud almost shouted. `You would have gone to the bottom with her.'
`Yes,' uttered Nostromo, slowly; `alone.'
Here was a man, Decoud reflected, that seemed as though he would have preferred to die rather than deface the perfect form of his egoism. Such a man was safe. In silence he helped the Capataz to get the grapnel on board. Nostromo cleared the shelving shore with one push of the heavy oar, and Decoud found himself solitary on the beach like a man in a dream. Asudden desire to hear a human voice once more seized upon his heart. The lighter was hardly distinguishable from the black water upon which she floated.
`What do you think has become of Hirsch?' he shouted.
`Knocked overboard and drowned,' cried Nostromo's voice confidently out of the black wastes of sky and sea around the islet. `Keep close in the ravine, senor . I shall try to come out to you in a night or two.'
A slight swishing rustle showed that Nostromo was setting the sail.