“Besides, who would think of looking either for you or the treasure here?” Nostromo continued, as if he could not tear himself away from the spot. “Nobody is ever likely to come here. What could any man want with this piece of earth as long as there is room for his feet on the mainland! The people in this country are not curious. There are even no fishermen here to intrude upon your worship. All the fishing that is done in the gulf goes on near Zapiga, over there. Senor, if you are forced to leave this island before anything can be arranged for you, do not try to make for Zapiga. It is a settlement of thieves and matreros, where they would cut your throat promptly for the sake of your gold watch and chain. And, senor, think twice before confiding in any one whatever; even in the officers of the Company’s steamers, if you ever get on board one. Honesty alone is not enough for security. You must look to discretion and prudence in a man. And always remember, senor, before you open your lips for a confidence, that this treasure may be left safely here for hundreds of years. Time is on its side, senor. And silver is an incorruptible metal that can be trusted to keep its value for ever. . . . An incorruptible metal,” he repeated, as if the idea had given him a profound pleasure. “As some men are said to be,” Decoud pronounced, inscrutably, while the Capataz, who busied himself in baling out the lighter with a wooden bucket, went on throwing the water over the side with a regular splash. Decoud, incorrigible in his scepticism, reflected, not cynically, but with general satisfaction, that this man was made incorruptible by his enormous vanity, that finest form of egoism which can take on the aspect of every virtue. Nostromo ceased baling, and, as if struck with a sudden thought, dropped the bucket with a clatter into the lighter. “Have you any message?” he asked in a lowered voice. “Remember, I shall be asked questions.” “You must find the hopeful words that ought to be spoken to the people in town. I trust for that your intelligence and your experience, Capataz. You understand?” “Si, senor. . . . For the ladies.” “Yes, yes,” said Decoud, hastily. “Your wonderful reputation will make them attach great value to your words; therefore be careful what you say. I am looking forward,” he continued, feeling the fatal touch of contempt for himself to which his complex nature was subject, “I am looking forward to a glorious and successful ending to my mission. Do you hear, Capataz? Use the words glorious and successful when you speak to the senorita. Your own mission is accomplished gloriously and successfully. You have indubitably saved the silver of the mine. Not only this silver, but probably all the silver that shall ever come out of it.”