. "There are
many hours of night yet before us."

"True. It is but a mile or so, I suppose. Rest your arms, senor, if that
is what you mean. You will find no other sort of rest, I can promise
you, since you let yourself be bound to this treasure whose loss would
make no poor man poorer. No, senor; there is no rest till we find a
north-bound steamer, or else some ship finds us drifting about stretched
out dead upon the Englishman's silver. Or rather--no; por Dios! I shall
cut down the gunwale with the axe right to the water's edge before
thirst and hunger rob me of my strength. By all the saints and devils
I shall let the sea have the treasure rather than give it up to any
stranger. Since it was the good pleasure of the Caballeros to send me
off on such an errand, they shall learn I am just the man they take me
for."

Decoud lay on the silver boxes panting. All his active sensations and
feelings from as far back as he could remember seemed to him the maddest
of dreams. Even his passionate devotion to Antonia into which he had
worked himself up out of the depths of his scepticism had lost all
appearance of reality. For a moment he was the prey of an extremely
languid but not unpleasant indifference.

"I am sure they didn't mean you to take such a desperate view of this
affair," he said.

"What was it, then? A joke?" snarled the man, who on the pay-sheets of
the O.S.N. Company's establishment in Sulaco was described as "Foreman
of the wharf" against the figure of his wages. "Was it for a joke they
woke me up from my sleep after two days of street fighting to make me
stake my life upon a bad card? Everybody knows, too, that I am not a
lucky gambler."

"Yes, everybody knows of your good luck with women, Capataz," Decoud
propitiated his companion in a weary drawl.

"Look here, senor," Nostromo went on. "I never even remonstrated about
this affair. Directly I heard what was wanted I saw what a desperate
affair it must be, and I made up my mind to see it out. Every minute was
of importance. I had to wait for you first. Then, when we arrived at
the Italia Una, old Giorgio shouted to me to go for the English doctor.
Later on, that poor dying woman wanted to see me, as you know. Senor,
I was reluctant to go. I felt already this cursed silver growing heavy
upon my back, and I was afraid that, knowing herself to be dying, she
would ask me to ride off again for a priest. Father Corbelan, who is
fearless, would have come at a