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Updated: May 31, 2025
Monygham had received a shock. He flung his arms up and cried out his wonder aloud, forgetting himself before the marvel of this meeting. Nostromo angrily warned him to moderate his voice. The Custom House was not so deserted as it looked. There was somebody in the lighted room above. There is no more evanescent quality in an accomplished fact than its wonderfulness.
Nostromo said in an incredulous tone. "All this because I am such a devoted Ribierist," repeated Dr. Monygham, grimly. Again Nostromo, gazing abstractedly at the body of the late Senor Hirsch, remained silent, thinking that the doctor was a dangerous person in more than one sense. It was impossible to trust him. "Do you speak in the name of Don Carlos?" he asked at last. "Yes.
She never saw me. But I looked at her face. It was awful in its anger and wretchedness." Mrs. Gould sat up, opening her eyes very wide. "What do you mean, Dr. Monygham? Do you mean to say that you suspect the younger sister?" "Quien sabe! Who can tell?" said the doctor, shrugging his shoulders like a born Costaguanero. "Ramirez came up to me on the wharf. He reeled he looked insane.
The spiritual and temporal pastors of the mine flock were very good friends. With Dr. Monygham, the medical pastor, who had accepted the charge from Mrs. Gould, and lived in the hospital building, they were on not so intimate terms.
A letter from Moraga explained afterwards that the initiative, and even the very text, of the incendiary allocution came, in reality, from the other Montero, the ex-guerillero, the Commandante de Plaza. The energetic treatment of Dr. Monygham, sent for in haste "to the mountain," who came galloping three leagues in the dark, saved Don Jose from a dangerous attack of jaundice.
"You may be very wise," he went on, thoughtfully, staring into the obscurity of the room, pervaded by the gruesome enigma of the tortured and murdered Hirsch. "But I am not such a fool as when I started. I have learned one thing since, and that is that you are a dangerous man." Dr. Monygham was too startled to do more than exclaim "What is it you say?"
Monygham himself. "Console yourself, child. Very soon he would have forgotten you for his treasure." "Senora, he loved me. He loved me," Giselle whispered, despairingly. "He loved me as no one had ever been loved before." "I have been loved, too," Mrs. Gould said in a severe tone. Giselle clung to her convulsively. "Oh, senora, but you shall live adored to the end of your life," she sobbed out.
"Who are you?" Already Nostromo had seemed to recognize Dr. Monygham. He had no doubt now. He hesitated the space of a second. The idea of bolting without a word presented itself to his mind. No use! An inexplicable repugnance to pronounce the name by which he was known kept him silent a little longer. At last he said in a low voice "A Cargador." He walked up to the other. Dr.
Monygham would have taken a more outspoken shape; but he thought to himself that now it really did not matter what that man, whom he had never liked, would say and do. "I wonder," he grumbled, "why they have shut us up together, or why Sotillo should have shut you up at all, since it seems to me you have been fairly chummy up there?" "Yes, I wonder," said the doctor grimly.
But it was Decoud who however, he is dead. There is no need to talk of him." "No," assented Nostromo, as the doctor paused, "there is no need to talk of dead men. But I am not dead yet." "You are all right. Only a man of your intrepidity could have saved himself." In this Dr. Monygham was sincere.
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