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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Стр. 219/274
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Thus
Captain
Mitchell
would
talk
in
the
middle
of
the
Plaza
,
holding
over
his
head
a
white
umbrella
with
a
green
lining
;
but
inside
the
cathedral
,
in
the
dim
light
,
with
a
faint
scent
of
incense
floating
in
the
cool
atmosphere
,
and
here
and
there
a
kneeling
female
figure
,
black
or
all
white
,
with
a
veiled
head
,
his
lowered
voice
became
solemn
and
impressive
.
"
Here
,
"
he
would
say
,
pointing
to
a
niche
in
the
wall
of
the
dusky
aisle
,
"
you
see
the
bust
of
Don
Jose
Avellanos
,
'
Patriot
and
Statesman
,
'
as
the
inscription
says
,
'
Minister
to
Courts
of
England
and
Spain
,
etc.
,
etc.
,
died
in
the
woods
of
Los
Hatos
worn
out
with
his
lifelong
struggle
for
Right
and
Justice
at
the
dawn
of
the
New
Era
.
'
A
fair
likeness
.
Parrochetti
's
work
from
some
old
photographs
and
a
pencil
sketch
by
Mrs.
Gould
.
I
was
well
acquainted
with
that
distinguished
Spanish-American
of
the
old
school
,
a
true
Hidalgo
,
beloved
by
everybody
who
knew
him
.
The
marble
medallion
in
the
wall
,
in
the
antique
style
,
representing
a
veiled
woman
seated
with
her
hands
clasped
loosely
over
her
knees
,
commemorates
that
unfortunate
young
gentleman
who
sailed
out
with
Nostromo
on
that
fatal
night
,
sir
.
See
,
'
To
the
memory
of
Martin
Decoud
,
his
betrothed
Antonia
Avellanos
.
'
Frank
,
simple
,
noble
.
There
you
have
that
lady
,
sir
,
as
she
is
.
An
exceptional
woman
.
Those
who
thought
she
would
give
way
to
despair
were
mistaken
,
sir
.
She
has
been
blamed
in
many
quarters
for
not
having
taken
the
veil
.
It
was
expected
of
her
.
But
Dona
Antonia
is
not
the
stuff
they
make
nuns
of
.
Bishop
Corbelan
,
her
uncle
,
lives
with
her
in
the
Corbelan
town
house
.
He
is
a
fierce
sort
of
priest
,
everlastingly
worrying
the
Government
about
the
old
Church
lands
and
convents
.
I
believe
they
think
a
lot
of
him
in
Rome
.
Now
let
us
go
to
the
Amarilla
Club
,
just
across
the
Plaza
,
to
get
some
lunch
.
"
Directly
outside
the
cathedral
on
the
very
top
of
the
noble
flight
of
steps
,
his
voice
rose
pompously
,
his
arm
found
again
its
sweeping
gesture
.
"
Porvenir
,
over
there
on
that
first
floor
,
above
those
French
plate-glass
shop-fronts
;
our
biggest
daily
.
Conservative
,
or
,
rather
,
I
should
say
,
Parliamentary
.
We
have
the
Parliamentary
party
here
of
which
the
actual
Chief
of
the
State
,
Don
Juste
Lopez
,
is
the
head
;
a
very
sagacious
man
,
I
think
.
A
first-rate
intellect
,
sir
.
The
Democratic
party
in
opposition
rests
mostly
,
I
am
sorry
to
say
,
on
these
socialistic
Italians
,
sir
,
with
their
secret
societies
,
camorras
,
and
such-like
.
There
are
lots
of
Italians
settled
here
on
the
railway
lands
,
dismissed
navvies
,
mechanics
,
and
so
on
,
all
along
the
trunk
line
.
There
are
whole
villages
of
Italians
on
the
Campo
.
And
the
natives
,
too
,
are
being
drawn
into
these
ways
...
American
bar
?
Yes
.
And
over
there
you
can
see
another
.
New
Yorkers
mostly
frequent
that
one
--
--
Here
we
are
at
the
Amarilla
.
Observe
the
bishop
at
the
foot
of
the
stairs
to
the
right
as
we
go
in
.
"
And
the
lunch
would
begin
and
terminate
its
lavish
and
leisurely
course
at
a
little
table
in
the
gallery
,
Captain
Mitchell
nodding
,
bowing
,
getting
up
to
speak
for
a
moment
to
different
officials
in
black
clothes
,
merchants
in
jackets
,
officers
in
uniform
,
middle-aged
caballeros
from
the
Campo
--
sallow
,
little
,
nervous
men
,
and
fat
,
placid
,
swarthy
men
,
and
Europeans
or
North
Americans
of
superior
standing
,
whose
faces
looked
very
white
amongst
the
majority
of
dark
complexions
and
black
,
glistening
eyes
.
Captain
Mitchell
would
lie
back
in
the
chair
,
casting
around
looks
of
satisfaction
,
and
tender
over
the
table
a
case
full
of
thick
cigars
.
"
Try
a
weed
with
your
coffee
.
Local
tobacco
.
The
black
coffee
you
get
at
the
Amarilla
,
sir
,
you
do
n't
meet
anywhere
in
the
world
.
We
get
the
bean
from
a
famous
cafeteria
in
the
foot-hills
,
whose
owner
sends
three
sacks
every
year
as
a
present
to
his
fellow
members
in
remembrance
of
the
fight
against
Gamacho
's
Nationals
,
carried
on
from
these
very
windows
by
the
caballeros
.
He
was
in
town
at
the
time
,
and
took
part
,
sir
,
to
the
bitter
end
.
It
arrives
on
three
mules
--
not
in
the
common
way
,
by
rail
;
no
fear
!
--
right
into
the
patio
,
escorted
by
mounted
peons
,
in
charge
of
the
Mayoral
of
his
estate
,
who
walks
upstairs
,
booted
and
spurred
,
and
delivers
it
to
our
committee
formally
with
the
words
,
'
For
the
sake
of
those
fallen
on
the
third
of
May
.
'
We
call
it
Tres
de
Mayo
coffee
.
Taste
it
.
"
