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Updated: June 29, 2025
His white hair was full of dust, which covered also the rest of his helpless person. As if he had heard nothing, he twitched an eyebrow to get rid of a bit of straw which hung amongst the hairs. Sotillo advanced one leg and put his arms akimbo. "It is you, Mitchell," he said, emphatically, "who are the thief, not my soldiers!"
Gone in one of your lanchas, you miserable man! How dared you?" This time he produced his effect. "How on earth could Sotillo know that?" thought Mitchell. His head, the only part of his body that could move, betrayed his surprise by a sudden jerk. "Ha! you tremble," Sotillo shouted, suddenly. "It is a conspiracy. It is a crime against the State.
One of the candles flickering in the socket went out. "Who did this?" he asked. "Sotillo, I tell you. Who else? Tortured of course. But why shot?" The doctor looked fixedly at Nostromo, who shrugged his shoulders slightly. "And mark, shot suddenly, on impulse. It is evident. I wish I had his secret." Nostromo had advanced, and stooped slightly to look.
But at that point Sotillo ordered everybody out. Directly they were alone, the colonel's severe official manner changed. He rose and approached the doctor. His eyes shone with rapacity and hope; he became confidential. "The silver might have been indeed put on board the lighter, but it was not conceivable that it should have been taken out to sea."
This Jew might have been very much frightened by the accident, but he knew where the silver was concealed, and had invented this story, with his Jewish cunning, to put him entirely off the track as to what had been done. Sotillo had taken up his quarters on the upper floor in a vast apartment with heavy black beams.
He looked towards the officers, amongst whom there was an approving murmur. The older major was moved to declare "Si, mi colonel. They are all traitors." "I shall say nothing," continued Sotillo, fixing the motionless and powerless Mitchell with an angry but uneasy stare.
You shall know my power a little better when I tie you up to a potalon outside in the sun for a whole day." He drew himself up haughtily, and made a sign for Captain Mitchell to be led away. "What about my watch?" cried Captain Mitchell, hanging back from the efforts of the men pulling him towards the door. Sotillo turned to his officers. "No!
As he kept on forgetting Decoud's name, mixing him up with several other people he had seen in the Casa Gould, it looked as if they all had been in the lighter together; and for a moment Sotillo thought that he had drowned every prominent Ribierist of Sulaco. The improbability of such a thing threw a doubt upon the whole statement.
He reproached himself bitterly for not having visited the lighter carefully before leaving the wharf. He reproached himself for not having stabbed and flung Hirsch overboard at the very moment of discovery without even looking at his face. That would have been consistent with the desperate character of the affair. Whatever happened, Sotillo was already baffled.
There is always something childish in the rapacity of the passionate, clear-minded, Southern races, wanting in the misty idealism of the Northerners, who at the smallest encouragement dream of nothing less than the conquest of the earth. Sotillo was fond of jewels, gold trinkets, of personal adornment. After a moment he turned about, and with a commanding gesture made all his officers fall back.
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