Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART FIRST: THE SILVER OF THE MINE 8. CHAPTER EIGHT (continued)

In the fenced roadside paddocks loose horses galloped wildly for
a while; the heavy cattle stood up breast deep in the grass,
lowing mutteringly at the flying noise; a meek Indian villager
would glance back once and hasten to shove his loaded little
donkey bodily against a wall, out of the way of the San Tome
silver escort going to the sea; a small knot of chilly leperos
under the Stone Horse of the Alameda would mutter: "Caramba!" on
seeing it take a wide curve at a gallop and dart into the empty
Street of the Constitution; for it was considered the correct
thing, the only proper style by the mule-drivers of the San Tome
mine to go through the waking town from end to end without a
check in the speed as if chased by a devil.

The early sunshine glowed on the delicate primrose, pale pink,
pale blue fronts of the big houses with all their gates shut yet,
and no face behind the iron bars of the windows. In the whole
sunlit range of empty balconies along the street only one white
figure would be visible high up above the clear pavement--the
wife of the Senor Administrador--leaning over to see the escort
go by to the harbour, a mass of heavy, fair hair twisted up
negligently on her little head, and a lot of lace about the neck
of her muslin wrapper. With a smile to her husband's single,
quick, upward glance, she would watch the whole thing stream past
below her feet with an orderly uproar, till she answered by a
friendly sign the salute of the galloping Don Pepe, the stiff,
deferential inclination with a sweep of the hat below the knee.

The string of padlocked carts lengthened, the size of the escort
grew bigger as the years went on. Every three months an
increasing stream of treasure swept through the streets of Sulaco
on its way to the strong room in the O.S.N. Co.'s building by the
harbour, there to await shipment for the North. Increasing in
volume, and of immense value also; for, as Charles Gould told his
wife once with some exultation, there had never been seen
anything in the world to approach the vein of the Gould
Concession. For them both, each passing of the escort under the
balconies of the Casa Gould was like another victory gained in
the conquest of peace for Sulaco.