Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART THIRD: THE LIGHTHOUSE 11. CHAPTER ELEVEN (continued)

"Who will dare speak to him? Even the love-mad Ramirez runs away
from the mere shadow of Captain Fidanza."

"I can. I will," Mrs. Gould declared. "A word will be enough for
a man like Nostromo."

The doctor smiled sourly.

"He must end this situation which lends itself to----I can't
believe it of that child," pursued Mrs. Gould.

"He's very attractive," muttered the doctor, gloomily.

"He'll see it, I am sure. He must put an end to all this by
marrying Linda at once," pronounced the first lady of Sulaco with
immense decision.

Through the garden gate emerged Basilio, grown fat and sleek,
with an elderly hairless face, wrinkles at the corners of his
eyes, and his jet-black, coarse hair plastered down smoothly.
Stooping carefully behind an ornamental clump of bushes, he put
down with precaution a small child he had been carrying on his
shoulder--his own and Leonarda's last born. The pouting, spoiled
Camerista and the head mozo of the Casa Gould had been married
for some years now.

He remained squatting on his heels for a time, gazing fondly at
his offspring, which returned his stare with imperturbable
gravity; then, solemn and respectable, walked down the path.

"What is it, Basilio?" asked Mrs. Gould.

"A telephone came through from the office of the mine. The master
remains to sleep at the mountain to-night."

Dr. Monygham had got up and stood looking away. A profound
silence reigned for a time under the shade of the biggest trees
in the lovely gardens of the Casa Gould.

"Very well, Basilio," said Mrs. Gould. She watched him walk away
along the path, step aside behind the flowering bush, and
reappear with the child seated on his shoulder. He passed through
the gateway between the garden and the patio with measured steps,
careful of his light burden.