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<\/p>\nEarly on the morning of that day the local authorities of Sulaco had fled for refuge to the O.S.N. Company\u2019s offices, a strong building near the shore end of the jetty, leaving the town to the mercies of a revolutionary rabble; and as the Dictator was execrated by the populace on account of the severe recruitment law his necessities had compelled him to enforce during the struggle, he stood a good chance of being torn to pieces. Providentially, Nostromo\u2014invaluable fellow\u2014with some Italian workmen, imported to work upon the National Central Railway, was at hand, and managed to snatch him away\u2014for the time at least. Ultimately, Captain Mitchell succeeded in taking everybody off in his own gig to one of the Company\u2019s steamers\u2014it was the Minerva\u2014just then, as luck would have it, entering the harbour.<\/p>\n
Perhaps the very atmospheric conditions which had kept away the merchant fleets of bygone ages induced the O.S.N. Company to violate the sanctuary of peace sheltering the calm existence of Sulaco. The variable airs sporting lightly with the vast semicircle of waters within the head of Azuera could not baffle the steam power of their excellent fleet. Year after year the black hulls of their ships had gone up and down the coast, in and out, past Azuera, past the Isabels, past Punta Mala\u2014disregarding everything but the tyranny of time<\/p>\n
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Then, calming down suddenly, he would dismiss the subject with studied negligence.<\/p>\n
\u201cSmith knows no more of this continent than a baby.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOur excellent Senor Mitchell\u201d for the business and official world of Sulaco; \u201cFussy Joe\u201d for the commanders of the Company\u2019s ships, Captain Joseph Mitchell prided himself on his profound knowledge of men and things in the country\u2014cosas de Costaguana. Amongst these last he accounted as most unfavourable to the orderly working of his Company the frequent changes of government brought about by revolutions of the military type.<\/p>\n
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The political atmosphere of the Republic was generally stormy in these days. The fugitive patriots of the defeated party had the knack of turning up again on the coast with half a steamer\u2019s load of small arms and ammunition. Such resourcefulness Captain Mitchell considered as perfectly wonderful in view of their utter destitution at the time of flight. He had observed that \u201cthey never seemed to have enough change about them to pay for their passage ticket out of the country.\u201d And he could speak with knowledge; for on a memorable occasion he had been called upon to save the life of a dictator, together with the lives of a few Sulaco officials\u2014the political chief, the director of the customs, and the head of police\u2014belonging to an overturned government. Poor Senor Ribiera (such was the dictator\u2019s name) had come pelting eighty miles over mountain tracks after the lost battle of Socorro, in the hope of out-distancing the fatal news\u2014which, of course, he could not manage to do on a lame mule. The animal, moreover, expired under him at the end of the Alameda, where the military band plays sometimes in the evenings between the revolutions. \u201cSir,\u201d Captain Mitchell would pursue with portentous gravity, \u201cthe ill-timed end of that mule attracted attention to the unfortunate rider. His features were recognized by several deserters from the Dictatorial army amongst the rascally mob already engaged in smashing the windows of the Intendencia.\u201d<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n
Early on the morning of that day the local authorities of Sulaco had fled for refuge to the O.S.N. Company\u2019s offices, a strong building near the shore end of the jetty, leaving the town to the mercies of a revolutionary rabble; and as the Dictator was execrated by the populace on account of the severe recruitment law his necessities had compelled him to enforce during the struggle, he stood a good chance of being torn to pieces. Providentially, Nostromo\u2014invaluable fellow\u2014with some Italian workmen, imported to work upon the National Central Railway, was at hand, and managed to snatch him away\u2014for the time at least. Ultimately, Captain Mitchell succeeded in taking everybody off in his own gig to one of the Company\u2019s steamers\u2014it was the Minerva\u2014just then, as luck would have it, entering the harbour.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Early on the morning of that day the local authorities of Sulaco had fled for refuge to the O.S.N. Company\u2019s …