| PART FIRST: THE SILVER OF THE MINE
7. CHAPTER SEVEN
 (continued)Charles Gould assumed that if the appearance of listening to
deplorable balderdash must form part of the price he had to pay
 for being left unmolested, the obligation of uttering balderdash
 personally was by no means included in the bargain. He drew the
 line there. To these provincial autocrats, before whom the
 peaceable population of all classes had been accustomed to
 tremble, the reserve of that English-looking engineer caused an
 uneasiness which swung to and fro between cringing and
 truculence. Gradually all of them discovered that, no matter what
 party was in power, that man remained in most effective touch
 with the higher authorities in Sta. Marta.
 
 This was a fact, and it accounted perfectly for the Goulds being
by no means so wealthy as the engineer-in-chief on the new
 railway could legitimately suppose.  Following the advice of Don
 Jose Avellanos, who was a man of good counsel (though rendered
 timid by his horrible experiences of Guzman Bento's time),
 Charles Gould had kept clear of the capital; but in the current
 gossip of the foreign residents there he was known (with a good
 deal of seriousness underlying the irony) by the nickname of
 "King of Sulaco." An advocate of the Costaguana Bar, a man of
 reputed ability and good character, member of the distinguished
 Moraga family possessing extensive estates in the Sulaco Valley,
 was pointed out to strangers, with a shade of mystery and
 respect, as the agent of the San Tome mine--"political, you
 know." He was tall, black-whiskered, and discreet.  It was known
 that he had easy access to ministers, and that the numerous
 Costaguana generals were always anxious to dine at his house.
 Presidents granted him audience with facility. He corresponded
 actively with his maternal uncle, Don Jose Avellanos; but his
 letters--unless those expressing formally his dutiful
 affection--were seldom entrusted to the Costaguana Post Office.
 There the envelopes are opened, indiscriminately, with the
 frankness of a brazen and childish impudence characteristic of
 some Spanish-American Governments. But it must be noted that at
 about the time of the re-opening of the San Tome mine the
 muleteer who had been employed by Charles Gould in his
 preliminary travels on the Campo added his small train of animals
 to the thin stream of traffic carried over the mountain passes
 between the Sta. Marta upland and the Valley of Sulaco. There are
 no travellers by that arduous and unsafe route unless under very
 exceptional circumstances, and the state of inland trade did not
 visibly require additional transport facilities; but the man
 seemed to find his account in it.  A few packages were always
 found for him whenever he took the road. Very brown and wooden,
 in goatskin breeches with the hair outside, he sat near the tail
 of his own smart mule, his great hat turned against the sun, an
 expression of blissful vacancy on his long face, humming day
 after day a love-song in a plaintive key, or, without a change of
 expression, letting out a yell at his small tropilla in front. A
 round little guitar hung high up on his back; and there was a
 place scooped out artistically in the wood of one of his
 pack-saddles where a tightly rolled piece of paper could be
 slipped in, the wooden plug replaced, and the coarse canvas
 nailed on again. When in Sulaco it was his practice to smoke and
 doze all day long (as though he had no care in the world) on a
 stone bench outside the doorway of the Casa Gould and facing the
 windows of the Avellanos house.  Years and years ago his mother
 had been chief laundry-woman in that family--very accomplished in
 the matter of clear-starching. He himself had been born on one of
 their haciendas. His name was Bonifacio, and Don Jose, crossing
 the street about five o'clock to call on Dona Emilia, always
 acknowledged his humble salute by some movement of hand or head.
 The porters of both houses conversed lazily with him in tones of
 grave intimacy. His evenings he devoted to gambling and to calls
 in a spirit of generous festivity upon the peyne d'oro girls in
 the more remote side-streets of the town.  But he, too, was a
 discreet man.
 
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