Nostromo had seen in
the wild and irrational glances, and in the continuous twitchings of
his mouth, protected Senor Hirsch from the cruel necessities of this
desperate affair. The moment of silencing him for ever had passed. As
Nostromo remarked, in answer to Decoud's regrets, it was too late! It
could not be done without noise, especially in the ignorance of the
man's exact position. Wherever he had elected to crouch and tremble, it
was too hazardous to go near him. He would begin probably to yell for
mercy. It was much better to leave him quite alone since he was keeping
so still. But to trust to his silence became every moment a greater
strain upon Decoud's composure.

"I wish, Capataz, you had not let the right moment pass," he murmured.

"What! To silence him for ever? I thought it good to hear first how he
came to be here. It was too strange. Who could imagine that it was
all an accident? Afterwards, senor, when I saw you giving him water to
drink, I could not do it. Not after I had seen you holding up the can to
his lips as though he were your brother. Senor, that sort of necessity
must not be thought of too long. And yet it would have been no cruelty
to take away from him his wretched life. It is nothing but fear. Your
compassion saved him then, Don Martin, and now it is too late. It
couldn't be done without noise."

In the steamer they were keeping a perfect silence, and the stillness
was so profound that Decoud felt as if the slightest sound conceivable
must travel unchecked and audible to the end of the world. What if
Hirsch coughed or sneezed? To feel himself at the mercy of such an
idiotic contingency was too exasperating to be looked upon with irony.
Nostromo, too, seemed to be getting restless. Was it possible, he
asked himself, that the steamer, finding the night too dark altogether,
intended to remain stopped where she was till daylight? He began to
think that this, after all, was the real danger. He was afraid that
the darkness, which was his protection, would, in the end, cause his
undoing.

Sotillo, as Nostromo had surmised, was in command on board the
transport. The events of the last forty-eight hours in Sulaco were not
known to him; neither was he aware that the telegraphist in Esmeralda
had managed to warn his colleague in Sulaco. Like a good many officers
of the troops garrisoning the province, Sotillo had been influenced
in his adoption of the Ribierist cause by the belief that it had the