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His work is an exercise of personal powers; his leisure is spent in receiving the marks of extraordinary adulation. And he likes it, too. Can anybody be more fortunate? To be feared and admired is " "And are these your highest aspirations, Don Martin?" interrupted Antonia. "I was speaking of a man of that sort," said Decoud, curtly. "The heroes of the world have been feared and admired.
He is attacking me." "You surely do not think I was attacking Don Carlos!" Decoud answered. And then the carriage stopped before the door of the Casa Gould. The young man offered his hand to the ladies. They went in first together; Don Jose walked by the side of Decoud, and the gouty old porter tottered after them with some light wraps on his arm.
Reflect that, even by giving up the treasure at the first demand, we would not be able to save our lives. Do you understand this, or must I explain?" "No, you needn't explain," said Decoud, a little listlessly. "I can see it well enough myself, that the possession of this treasure is very much like a deadly disease for men situated as we are.
And, of course, in the news the Decouds received regularly from Costaguana, the name of their friends, the Avellanos, cropped up frequently the arrest and the abominable treatment of the ex-Minister, the dangers and hardships endured by the family, its withdrawal in poverty to Sulaco, the death of the mother. The Monterist pronunciamento had taken place before Martin Decoud reached Costaguana.
He explained this to Decoud after their task was done, and they sat, weary in every limb, with their legs hanging down the low bank, and their backs against the tree, like a pair of blind men aware of each other and their surroundings by some indefinable sixth sense. "Yes," Nostromo repeated, "I never forget a place I have carefully looked at once."
Gould, could be heard. "Yes," Decoud began in a murmur. "Even he!" "This is sheer calumny," said Antonia, not very severely. "You just ask him to throw his mine into the melting-pot for the great cause," Decoud whispered. Don Jose had raised his voice. He rubbed his hands cheerily.
If I hear as much as a loud breath from you I shall come over there and put a bullet through your head." The mere presence of a coward, however passive, brings an element of treachery into a dangerous situation. Nostromo's nervous impatience passed into gloomy thoughtfulness. Decoud, in an undertone, as if speaking to himself, remarked that, after all, this bizarre event made no great difference.
Gould told me his manner was perfect for quietness and sympathy. Miss Avellanos burst into tears only when he told her how Decoud had happened to say that his plan would be a glorious success. . . . And there's no doubt, sir, that it is. It is a success." The cycle was about to close at last.
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.
C'est trop beau." He fell a prey to a screaming ecstasy, in the midst of sagely nodding heads, before Charles Gould's imperturbable calm. And only the priest continued his pacing, flinging round the skirt of his soutane at each end of his beat. Decoud murmured to him ironically: "Those gentlemen talk about their gods."
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