Sotillo was more
anxious than ever now to enter the harbour without loss of time; the
idea that he had destroyed the principal object of his expedition was
too intolerable to be accepted. This feeling made the story he had heard
appear the more incredible. Senor Hirsch, after being beaten a little
for telling lies, was thrust into the chartroom. But he was beaten only
a little. His tale had taken the heart out of Sotillo's Staff, though
they all repeated round their chief, "Impossible! impossible!" with the
exception of the old major, who triumphed gloomily.
"I told you; I told you," he mumbled. "I could smell some treachery,
some diableria a league off."
Meantime, the steamer had kept on her way towards Sulaco, where only the
truth of that matter could be ascertained. Decoud and Nostromo heard the
loud churning of her propeller diminish and die out; and then, with no
useless words, busied themselves in making for the Isabels. The last
shower had brought with it a gentle but steady breeze. The danger was
not over yet, and there was no time for talk.
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