forests of the far interior where the great
rivers have their sources. But it was mere aimless wandering; he had written
nothing, collected nothing, brought nothing for science out of the twilight of
the forests, which seemed to cling to his battered personality limping about
Sulaco, where it had drifted in casually, only to get stranded on the shores of
the sea.
    It was also known that he had lived in a state of destitution till the
arrival of the Goulds from Europe. Don Carlos and Doña Emilia had taken up the
mad English doctor, when it became apparent that for all his savage independence
he could be tamed by kindness. Perhaps it was only hunger that had tamed him. In
years gone by he had certainly been acquainted with Charles Gould's father in
Sta. Marta; and now, no matter what were the dark passages of his history, as
the medical officer of the San Tomé mine he became a recognized personality. He
was recognized, but not unreservedly accepted. So much defiant eccentricity and
such an outspoken scorn for mankind seemed to point to mere recklessness of
judgment, the bravado of guilt. Besides, since he had become again of some
account, vague whispers had been heard that years ago, when fallen into disgrace
and thrown into prison by Guzman Bento at the time of the so-called Great
Conspiracy, he had betrayed some of his best friends amongst the conspirators.
Nobody pretended to believe that whisper; the whole story of the Great
Conspiracy was hopelessly involved and obscure; it is admitted in Costaguana
that there never had been a conspiracy except in the diseased imagination of the
Tyrant; and, therefore, nothing and no one to betray; though the most
distinguished Costaguaneros had been imprisoned and executed upon that
accusation. The procedure had dragged on for years, decimating the better class
like a pestilence. The mere expression of sorrow for the fate of executed
kinsmen had been punished with death. Don José Avellanos was perhaps the only
one living who knew the whole story of those unspeakable cruelties. He had
suffered from them himself, and he, with a shrug of the shoulders and a nervous,
jerky gesture of the arm, was wont to put away from him, as it were, every
allusion to it. But whatever the reason, Dr. Monygham, a personage in the
administration of the Gould Concession, treated with reverent awe by the miners,
and indulged in his peculiarities by Mrs. Gould, remained somehow outside the
pale.
    It was not from any liking for the doctor that the engineer-in-chief had
lingered in the inn upon the plain. He liked