t wish you had shouted and shown a light."

This unexpected utterance astounded the Capataz by its character of
cold-blooded atrocity. It was as much as to say, "I wish you had shown
yourself a coward; I wish you had had your throat cut for your pains."
Naturally he referred it to himself, whereas it related only to the
silver, being uttered simply and with many mental reservations. Surprise
and rage rendered him speechless, and the doctor pursued, practically
unheard by Nostromo, whose stirred blood was beating violently in his
ears.

"For I am convinced Sotillo in possession of the silver would have
turned short round and made for some small port abroad. Economically it
would have been wasteful, but still less wasteful than having it sunk.
It was the next best thing to having it at hand in some safe place, and
using part of it to buy up Sotillo. But I doubt whether Don Carlos would
have ever made up his mind to it. He is not fit for Costaguana, and that
is a fact, Capataz."

The Capataz had mastered the fury that was like a tempest in his ears in
time to hear the name of Don Carlos. He seemed to have come out of it a
changed man--a man who spoke thoughtfully in a soft and even voice.

"And would Don Carlos have been content if I had surrendered this
treasure?"

"I should not wonder if they were all of that way of thinking now," the
doctor said, grimly. "I was never consulted. Decoud had it his own way.
Their eyes are opened by this time, I should think. I for one know that
if that silver turned up this moment miraculously ashore I would give it
to Sotillo. And, as things stand, I would be approved."

"Turned up miraculously," repeated the Capataz very low; then raised
his voice. "That, senor, would be a greater miracle than any saint could
perform."

"I believe you, Capataz," said the doctor, drily.

He went on to develop his view of Sotillo's dangerous influence upon the
situation. And the Capataz, listening as if in a dream, felt himself of
as little account as the indistinct, motionless shape of the dead man
whom he saw upright under the beam, with his air of listening also,
disregarded, forgotten, like a terrible example of neglect.

"Was it for an unconsidered and foolish whim that they came to me,
then?" he interrupted suddenly. "Had I not done enough for them to be
of some account, por Dios? Is it that the hombres finos--the
gentlemen--need not think as long as there is a man of the people ready
to r