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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Ностромо
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- Стр. 200/274
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"
Because
he
has
confessed
everything
,
"
answered
Sotillo
,
with
the
hardihood
of
desperation
.
He
felt
himself
cornered
.
He
brazened
it
out
on
the
strength
of
his
reputation
with
very
fair
success
.
His
hearers
thought
him
very
capable
of
such
an
act
.
They
were
disposed
to
believe
his
flattering
tale
.
There
is
no
credulity
so
eager
and
blind
as
the
credulity
of
covetousness
,
which
,
in
its
universal
extent
,
measures
the
moral
misery
and
the
intellectual
destitution
of
mankind
.
Ah
!
he
had
confessed
everything
,
this
fractious
Jew
,
this
bribon
.
Good
!
Then
he
was
no
longer
wanted
.
A
sudden
dense
guffaw
was
heard
from
the
senior
captain
--
a
big-headed
man
,
with
little
round
eyes
and
monstrously
fat
cheeks
which
never
moved
.
The
old
major
,
tall
and
fantastically
ragged
like
a
scarecrow
,
walked
round
the
body
of
the
late
Senor
Hirsch
,
muttering
to
himself
with
ineffable
complacency
that
like
this
there
was
no
need
to
guard
against
any
future
treacheries
of
that
scoundrel
.
The
others
stared
,
shifting
from
foot
to
foot
,
and
whispering
short
remarks
to
each
other
.
Sotillo
buckled
on
his
sword
and
gave
curt
,
peremptory
orders
to
hasten
the
retirement
decided
upon
in
the
afternoon
.
Sinister
,
impressive
,
his
sombrero
pulled
right
down
upon
his
eyebrows
,
he
marched
first
through
the
door
in
such
disorder
of
mind
that
he
forgot
utterly
to
provide
for
Dr.
Monygham
's
possible
return
.
As
the
officers
trooped
out
after
him
,
one
or
two
looked
back
hastily
at
the
late
Senor
Hirsch
,
merchant
from
Esmeralda
,
left
swinging
rigidly
at
rest
,
alone
with
the
two
burning
candles
.
In
the
emptiness
of
the
room
the
burly
shadow
of
head
and
shoulders
on
the
wall
had
an
air
of
life
.
Below
,
the
troops
fell
in
silently
and
moved
off
by
companies
without
drum
or
trumpet
.
The
old
scarecrow
major
commanded
the
rearguard
;
but
the
party
he
left
behind
with
orders
to
fire
the
Custom
House
(
and
"
burn
the
carcass
of
the
treacherous
Jew
where
it
hung
"
)
failed
somehow
in
their
haste
to
set
the
staircase
properly
alight
.
The
body
of
the
late
Senor
Hirsch
dwelt
alone
for
a
time
in
the
dismal
solitude
of
the
unfinished
building
,
resounding
weirdly
with
sudden
slams
and
clicks
of
doors
and
latches
,
with
rustling
scurries
of
torn
papers
,
and
the
tremulous
sighs
that
at
each
gust
of
wind
passed
under
the
high
roof
.
The
light
of
the
two
candles
burning
before
the
perpendicular
and
breathless
immobility
of
the
late
Senor
Hirsch
threw
a
gleam
afar
over
land
and
water
,
like
a
signal
in
the
night
.
He
remained
to
startle
Nostromo
by
his
presence
,
and
to
puzzle
Dr.
Monygham
by
the
mystery
of
his
atrocious
end
.
"
But
why
shot
?
"
the
doctor
again
asked
himself
,
audibly
.
This
time
he
was
answered
by
a
dry
laugh
from
Nostromo
.
"
You
seem
much
concerned
at
a
very
natural
thing
,
senor
doctor
.
I
wonder
why
?
It
is
very
likely
that
before
long
we
shall
all
get
shot
one
after
another
,
if
not
by
Sotillo
,
then
by
Pedrito
,
or
Fuentes
,
or
Gamacho
.
And
we
may
even
get
the
estrapade
,
too
,
or
worse
--
quien
sabe
?
--
with
your
pretty
tale
of
the
silver
you
put
into
Sotillo
's
head
.
"
"
It
was
in
his
head
already
,
"
the
doctor
protested
.
"
I
only
--
"
"
Yes
.
And
you
only
nailed
it
there
so
that
the
devil
himself
--
"
"
That
is
precisely
what
I
meant
to
do
,
"
caught
up
the
doctor
.
