incensed
democracy upon all the Provincial Assemblies of the Republic to suspend their
sittings till his sword had made peace and the will of the people could be
consulted. It was practically an invitation to dissolve: an unheard-of audacity
of that evil madman.
    The indignation ran high in the knot of deputies behind José Avellanos. Don
José, lifting up his voice, cried out to them over the high back of his chair,
»Sulaco has answered by sending to-day an army upon his flank. If all the other
provinces show only half as much patriotism as we, Occidentals -«
    A great outburst of acclamations covered the vibrating treble of the life
and soul of the party. Yes! Yes! This was true! A great truth! Sulaco was in the
forefront, as ever! It was a boastful tumult, the hopefulness inspired by the
event of the day breaking out amongst those caballeros of the Campo thinking of
their herds, of their lands, of the safety of their families. Everything was at
stake. ... No! It was impossible that Montero should succeed! This criminal,
this shameless Indio! The clamour continued for some time, everybody else in the
room looking towards the group where Don Juste had put on his air of impartial
solemnity as if presiding at a sitting of the Provincial Assembly. Decoud had
turned round at the noise, and, leaning his back on the balustrade, shouted into
the room with all the strength of his lungs, »Gran' bestia!«
    This unexpected cry had the effect of stilling the noise. All the eyes were
directed to the window with an approving expectation; but Decoud had already
turned his back upon the room, and was again leaning out over the quiet street.
    »This is the quintessence of my journalism; that is the supreme argument,«
he said to Antonia. »I have invented this definition, this last word on a great
question. But I am no patriot. I am no more of a patriot than the Capataz of the
Sulaco Cargadores, this Genoese who has done such great things for this harbour
- this active usher-in of the material implements for our progress. You have
heard Captain Mitchell confess over and over again that till he got this man he
could never tell how long it would take to unload a ship. That is bad for
progress. You have seen him pass by after his labours on his famous horse to
dazzle the girls in some ballroom with an earthen floor. He is a fortunate
fellow! His work is an exercise of personal powers; his leisure is spent in
receiving the marks