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- Джозеф Конрад
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Giorgio
Viola
had
a
great
consideration
for
the
English
.
This
feeling
,
born
on
the
battlefields
of
Uruguay
,
was
forty
years
old
at
the
very
least
.
Several
of
them
had
poured
their
blood
for
the
cause
of
freedom
in
America
,
and
the
first
he
had
ever
known
he
remembered
by
the
name
of
Samuel
;
he
commanded
a
negro
company
under
Garibaldi
,
during
the
famous
siege
of
Montevideo
,
and
died
heroically
with
his
negroes
at
the
fording
of
the
Boyana
.
He
,
Giorgio
,
had
reached
the
rank
of
ensign-alferez-and
cooked
for
the
general
.
Later
,
in
Italy
,
he
,
with
the
rank
of
lieutenant
,
rode
with
the
staff
and
still
cooked
for
the
general
.
He
had
cooked
for
him
in
Lombardy
through
the
whole
campaign
;
on
the
march
to
Rome
he
had
lassoed
his
beef
in
the
Campagna
after
the
American
manner
;
he
had
been
wounded
in
the
defence
of
the
Roman
Republic
;
he
was
one
of
the
four
fugitives
who
,
with
the
general
,
carried
out
of
the
woods
the
inanimate
body
of
the
general
's
wife
into
the
farmhouse
where
she
died
,
exhausted
by
the
hardships
of
that
terrible
retreat
.
He
had
survived
that
disastrous
time
to
attend
his
general
in
Palermo
when
the
Neapolitan
shells
from
the
castle
crashed
upon
the
town
.
He
had
cooked
for
him
on
the
field
of
Volturno
after
fighting
all
day
.
And
everywhere
he
had
seen
Englishmen
in
the
front
rank
of
the
army
of
freedom
.
He
respected
their
nation
because
they
loved
Garibaldi
.
Their
very
countesses
and
princesses
had
kissed
the
general
's
hands
in
London
,
it
was
said
.
He
could
well
believe
it
;
for
the
nation
was
noble
,
and
the
man
was
a
saint
.
It
was
enough
to
look
once
at
his
face
to
see
the
divine
force
of
faith
in
him
and
his
great
pity
for
all
that
was
poor
,
suffering
,
and
oppressed
in
this
world
.
The
spirit
of
self-forgetfulness
,
the
simple
devotion
to
a
vast
humanitarian
idea
which
inspired
the
thought
and
stress
of
that
revolutionary
time
,
had
left
its
mark
upon
Giorgio
in
a
sort
of
austere
contempt
for
all
personal
advantage
.
This
man
,
whom
the
lowest
class
in
Sulaco
suspected
of
having
a
buried
hoard
in
his
kitchen
,
had
all
his
life
despised
money
.
The
leaders
of
his
youth
had
lived
poor
,
had
died
poor
.
It
had
been
a
habit
of
his
mind
to
disregard
to-morrow
.
It
was
engendered
partly
by
an
existence
of
excitement
,
adventure
,
and
wild
warfare
.
But
mostly
it
was
a
matter
of
principle
.
It
did
not
resemble
the
carelessness
of
a
condottiere
,
it
was
a
puritanism
of
conduct
,
born
of
stern
enthusiasm
like
the
puritanism
of
religion
.
This
stern
devotion
to
a
cause
had
cast
a
gloom
upon
Giorgio
's
old
age
.
It
cast
a
gloom
because
the
cause
seemed
lost
.
Too
many
kings
and
emperors
flourished
yet
in
the
world
which
God
had
meant
for
the
people
.
He
was
sad
because
of
his
simplicity
.
Though
always
ready
to
help
his
countrymen
,
and
greatly
respected
by
the
Italian
emigrants
wherever
he
lived
(
in
his
exile
he
called
it
)
,
he
could
not
conceal
from
himself
that
they
cared
nothing
for
the
wrongs
of
down-trodden
nations
.
They
listened
to
his
tales
of
war
readily
,
but
seemed
to
ask
themselves
what
he
had
got
out
of
it
after
all
.
There
was
nothing
that
they
could
see
.
"
We
wanted
nothing
,
we
suffered
for
the
love
of
all
humanity
!
"
he
cried
out
furiously
sometimes
,
and
the
powerful
voice
,
the
blazing
eyes
,
the
shaking
of
the
white
mane
,
the
brown
,
sinewy
hand
pointing
upwards
as
if
to
call
heaven
to
witness
,
impressed
his
hearers
.
After
the
old
man
hadbroken
off
abruptly
with
a
jerk
of
the
head
and
a
movement
of
the
arm
,
meaning
clearly
,
"
But
what
's
the
good
of
talking
to
you
?
"
they
nudged
each
other
.
There
was
in
old
Giorgio
an
energy
of
feeling
,
a
personal
quality
of
conviction
,
something
they
called
"
terribilita
"
--
"
an
old
lion
,
"
they
used
to
say
of
him
.
Some
slight
incident
,
a
chance
word
would
set
him
off
talking
on
the
beach
to
the
Italian
fishermen
of
Maldonado
,
in
the
little
shop
he
kept
afterwards
(
in
Valparaiso
)
to
his
countrymen
customers
;
of
an
evening
,
suddenly
,
in
the
cafe
at
one
end
of
the
Casa
Viola
(
the
other
was
reserved
for
the
English
engineers
)
to
the
select
clientele
of
engine-drivers
and
foremen
of
the
railway
shops
.
With
their
handsome
,
bronzed
,
lean
faces
,
shiny
black
ringlets
,
glistening
eyes
,
broad-chested
,
bearded
,
sometimes
a
tiny
gold
ring
in
the
lobe
of
the
ear
,
the
aristocracy
of
the
railway
works
listened
to
him
,
turning
away
from
their
cards
or
dominoes
.
Here
and
there
a
fair-haired
Basque
studied
his
hand
meantime
,
waiting
without
protest
.
No
native
of
Costaguana
intruded
there
.
This
was
the
Italian
stronghold
.
Even
the
Sulaco
policemen
on
a
night
patrol
let
their
horses
pace
softly
by
,
bending
low
in
the
saddle
to
glance
through
the
window
at
the
heads
in
a
fog
of
smoke
;
and
the
drone
of
old
Giorgio
's
declamatory
narrative
seemed
to
sink
behind
them
into
the
plain
.
Only
now
and
then
the
assistant
of
the
chief
of
police
,
some
broad-faced
,
brown
little
gentleman
,
with
a
great
deal
of
Indian
in
him
,
would
put
in
an
appearance
.
Leaving
his
man
outside
with
the
horses
he
advanced
with
a
confident
,
sly
smile
,
and
without
a
word
up
to
the
long
trestle
table
.
He
pointed
to
one
of
the
bottles
on
the
shelf
;
Giorgio
,
thrusting
his
pipe
into
his
mouth
abruptly
,
served
him
in
person
.
Nothing
would
be
heard
but
the
slight
jingle
of
the
spurs
His
glass
emptied
,
he
would
take
a
leisurely
,
scrutinizing
look
all
round
the
room
,
go
out
,
and
ride
away
slowly
,
circling
towards
the
town
.
IN
THIS
way
only
was
the
power
of
the
local
authorities
vindicated
amongst
the
great
body
of
strong-limbed
foreigners
who
dug
the
earth
,
blasted
the
rocks
,
drove
the
engines
for
the
"
progressive
and
patriotic
undertaking
.
"
In
these
very
words
eighteen
months
before
the
Excellentissimo
Senor
don
Vincente
Ribiera
,
the
Dictator
of
Costaguana
,
had
described
the
National
Central
Railway
in
his
great
speech
at
the
turning
of
the
first
sod
.
He
had
come
on
purpose
to
Sulaco
,
and
there
was
a
one-o'clock
dinner-party
,
a
convite
offered
by
the
O.S.N.
Company
on
board
the
Juno
after
the
function
on
shore
.
Captain
Mitchell
had
himself
steered
the
cargo
lighter
,
all
draped
with
flags
,
which
,
in
tow
of
the
Juno
's
steam
launch
,
took
the
Excellentissimo
from
the
jetty
to
the
ship
.
Everybody
of
note
in
Sulaco
had
been
invited
--
the
one
or
two
foreign
merchants
,
all
the
representatives
of
the
old
Spanish
families
then
in
town
,
the
great
owners
of
estates
on
the
plain
,
grave
,
courteous
,
simple
men
,
caballeros
of
pure
descent
,
with
small
hands
and
feet
,
conservative
,
hospitable
,
and
kind
.
The
Occidental
Province
was
their
stronghold
;
their
Blanco
party
had
triumphed
now
;
it
was
their
President-Dictator
,
a
Blanco
of
the
Blancos
,
who
sat
smiling
urbanely
between
the
representatives
of
two
friendly
foreign
powers
.
They
had
come
with
him
from
Sta
.
Marta
to
countenance
by
their
presence
the
enterprise
in
which
the
capital
of
their
countries
was
engaged
.
The
only
lady
of
that
company
was
Mrs.
Gould
,
the
wife
of
Don
Carlos
,
the
administrator
of
the
San
Tome
silver
mine
.
