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 INNOOENCIA
 
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 INNOCENCIA 
 
 A 8T0BY OF TEE PBAIBIE BEGIONS 
 OF BRAZIL 
 
 BY 
 
 SYLVIO DINARTE 
 
 (A. d' E. T.) 
 
 THANSLATED FROM THE PORTUGUESE AND ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 JAMES W. WELLS, F.E.G.S. 
 
 CORRESP. MEMB. GEOG. SOC. OF RIO DE JANEIRO 
 
 AITHOR OF "THREE THOUSAND MILES THROUGH BRAZIL;' 
 "THE VOICE OF URBANO ; "' ETC. 
 
 LONDON : CHAPMAN AND HALL 
 
 Limited 
 
 1889
 
 WESTMINSTER : 
 
 PRINTED BY NICHOLS AND SONS, 
 
 25, PARLIAMENT STREET.
 
 E74ISE 
 
 THE TRANSLATOE'S PREFACE. 
 
 To many readers of this work it will doubtless be 
 interesting to learn that in perusing the pages of 
 Innocencia they will be reading the first published 
 English translation of any work of light literature 
 by a Brazilian author. The fact is indeed interest- 
 ing, for it indicates the spread of international 
 community of thought and ideas so characteristic 
 of the times in which we live. 
 
 When I commenced to read Innocencia in the 
 original Portuguese I had not the least idea of 
 translating and publishing it, but, as I read on, I 
 found my attention attracted, not only by the 
 interest of the story, but also by the life-like 
 picture it conveyed to me of the characters of the 
 people and the scenery of the backwoods of Bra- 
 zil. Here, thought I, in the compass of this short
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 narrative, any reader can obtain a better idea of 
 tbe rural life and scenery of inland Brazil tban 
 lie could gain by studying a wbole library full of 
 books of travels in tliat country. Strange and 
 almost incomprehensible^ and certainly strikingly 
 original, as must appear to most Englisb. readers 
 many of the described traits of character in the 
 actors of the tale, they are but such as I have 
 repeatedly witnessed in my intercourse with the 
 Brazilian country-folk. It should however be 
 borne in mind that the people of the described 
 regions are such as exist from generation to gener- 
 ation without change of habits or ideas ; but with 
 the advent of the locomotive (which has already 
 reached Uberaba) it necessarily brings in its train 
 humanising influences, that will, and really do, 
 shatter many of the old world prejudices and 
 customs yet so rampant in the far interior of 
 Brazil . 
 
 Wishing to obtain a confirmation, or otherwise, 
 of my opinions of the work before submitting it 
 to the pul)lic, I requested my friend Mr. H. W. 
 Bates, the Secretary of the Royal Geographical 
 Society, and the author of the well-known 'Na- 
 turalist on the Amazons, to give me the frank 
 result of his perusal of the MS. With his kind 
 permission I am allowed to quote liis reply:
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 "I have finished reading your translation of 
 the short Brazilian novel Innocencia, and have 
 been strongly interested by it. It so happens 
 that I have had quite a course of novel-reading 
 this winter — English, French, and American — 
 and was getting rather hlase, but there is a novelty 
 and charm in the scenes and characters of Inno- 
 cencia which woke me up again. The plot is very 
 simple, but not simpler than that of the famous 
 Paul et Virginie, and there is great pathos in the 
 story — not artificially worked up, but coming out 
 quite naturally. The groundwork of the tale is 
 its graphic picture of scenery, life, and character 
 in rural Brazil, and the characters are drawn with 
 wonderful truth and simple force." 
 
 From so eminent an authority on Brazil such a 
 satisfactory corroboration of my ideas was most 
 gratifying, and I hesitated no longer in submitting 
 to the public a work which, whether the story it 
 contains interests them or otherwise, will at least 
 add considerably to any reader's knowledge of the 
 little-known rural life and scenery of Brazil. 
 
 The aiTthor, who writes under the nom de plume 
 of Sylvio Dinarte, is a distinguished Senator of 
 the Brazilian Empire, and is one of the ablest and 
 most popular writers in the country. He willingly
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 and unconditionally accorded me permission to 
 publish my translation of liis work, and expressed 
 liis satisfaction by observing, " I am indeed de- 
 lighted to see that my book is deemed worthy of 
 the honour of a translation/' 
 
 As to the translation, I have endeavoured to make 
 it approach the nearest equivalent in idiomatic 
 English, but as the author is wonderfully rich in 
 local patois and proverbs, which would be compara- 
 tively unintelligible if put into actual corresponding 
 English, I have had to take liberties in my treat- 
 ment of the matter. Imagine a Frenchman put- 
 ting "Barkis is willin' '' or some of Sir Walter 
 Scott's broad Scotch into French ! The foreign 
 reader must necessarily lose much of the local 
 colouring, but here and there I have adopted the 
 original, purposely with the intention of preserving, 
 as much as possible, the same local colour. For 
 instance, Mon Dieu! in French, or 3Ieu Dens ! in 
 Portuguese, which is practically similar, receives 
 a vastly different value to My God ! in English. 
 
 JAMES W. WELLS. 
 
 Olinda, Bcchenliam, Kent.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Sertao and the Seetanejo 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Teavellee 18 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 The Doctor • • • .35 
 
 CHAPTER IV, 
 The Home of the Mineiro -14 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Precaution o-^ 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 INNOCENCIA 6- 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Naturalist "3
 
 X CONTENTS, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Midnight Guests 80 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 The Remedy 90 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 The Letter op Recommendatiox 97 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 The Breakfast 113 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Presentation 121 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 Suspicions 128 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Reality 137 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 The Adventures of Meyer 150 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 The Dyspeptic Patient IGI 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 The Leper 178
 
 CONTENTS. xi 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 BiTTEKS AND SWEETS 18(! 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 Hopes and Fears 199 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 New Anecdotes of Meyer 208 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 The Papilio Innocentia 21 c 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 Meyer Departs 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 The Last Interview 229 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 The Town of Sant' Anna 242 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 The Journey .... .... 254 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 A Cordial Reception 2G0 
 
 CH.YPTER XXVII. 
 Hunting the Doe 2(>(; 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 In the House of Cesario 274
 
 xii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. j^ 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Doe at Bay 288 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 Too Late 300 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 Meyer ee-appeaes 310
 
 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SERTAO * AND THE SERT^VNEJO. 
 
 The road from the town of Sant' Anna do Paraua- 
 liyba t to tlie abandoned pass of Camapuan, j 
 crosses a little-known and thinly-inhabited zone oi 
 
 * The term SerUIo (pronounced Sair-toung) expresses any very 
 tlnn]y-])eoplecl prairie region in the distant interior of Brazil, and 
 the inhabitants, Sertanejos (pronounced Sair-tahn-ai-jous), in- 
 variably follow the occupation of cattle breeding. 
 
 t In a straight line this old town is about five hundred miles 
 in a W.N.W. direction from Kio de Janeiro. 
 
 J The pass, or rather portage, of Camapuan is situated in tlip 
 watershed of the Parana, and Paraguay rivers, and where, in 
 former times, the Portuguese traders gained access to the iidand 
 regions of Mato Grosso by dragging their canoes from the head 
 waters of the tributary stream of one great river to those of the 
 other. This overland route from the coast is now abandoned, the 
 ascent of the Paraguay by steamer from the Plate being much 
 preferable. [Notes, Trans.] 
 
 ^ B
 
 2 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 the soutli-east part of the vast province of Mato 
 Grosso. From that town — which is situated nearly 
 at the junction of the territories of S. Paulo, Minas 
 Geraes, Goyaz^ and Mato Grosso — to the River 
 Sucuriu, distant some hundred and sixty miles, 
 one travels conveniently from habitation to habi- 
 tation more or less distant one from the other. 
 After crossinsf the river the houses become more 
 and more rare. Long- hours are spent on the jour- 
 ney — even entire days — without seeing either 
 house or inhabitant, until is reached the ranch of 
 Jose Pereira, the advanced guard of those soli- 
 tudes. A sound and hospitable man is he, and one 
 Avho welcomes the traveller in this far-extending 
 desert with a hearty welcome, and provides him 
 with provisions for a journey to the distant campos* 
 of Miranda and Piquiry, or of Vaccariaand Nioac, 
 on the Lower Paraguay. 
 
 Beyond this house commences the complete 
 solitude known as the Sertao Bruto.t There, as 
 one camping ground for the night succeeds the 
 other, neither inhabited nor ruined house or 
 thatched hut offers to the ti^aveller a shelter from 
 the chills of night, against the storm that threatens, 
 or from the falling rain. Everywhere reigns the 
 
 * Campos or Prairies. f The Wild ScrtiLo or WiUlerncss.
 
 THE SERTAO AND THE SERTANEJO. 3 
 
 calm and peace of untilled regions. Everywhere 
 tlie vegetation is virgin, as virgin as when for the 
 first time it there burst into life. 
 
 The road that crosses these wild regions is a trail 
 of coarse white sand, the predominating element of 
 the soil, which is, however, fertilised by in- 
 numerable limpid gurgling brooks, whose waters 
 are so many tributaries of the Parana or the 
 Paraguay. 
 
 This sand, loose and coarse-grained, is bleached 
 so white that it reflects with intensity the rays of 
 the sun as they strike the plain. In some places 
 it is so soft and loose that the hoofs of animals of 
 travelling troops sink in it to their fetlocks, and 
 many a horse or mule falls exhausted with the 
 fatigue of a journey in such terribly heavy ground. 
 But, from one side or other of the road, frequent 
 paths lead the wayfarer to a firmer soil in the 
 less beaten tracks of the cerrado * or jungle. 
 
 If the aspect of the road appears ever the same, 
 its monotony is compensated for by the great 
 variety of the landscape. 
 
 * Cerrados arc usually a species of dwarf forests, composed of shrubs 
 and trees of three to fifteen feet in height, more or less close to one 
 another. Sometimes these ti'ees attain a greater development and 
 form the transition to capoeiras. (A good idea of the cerrados 
 may be formed by picturing an ordinary English orchard with all 
 the intervening spaces lilled witli grass and shrubs. — Xote, Trans.) 
 
 b2
 
 4 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Now it is a perspective of the cerrados, not the 
 dwarfed vegetation of tlie cerrados of S. Paulo 
 and Minas, but of lusty and elevated trees^ which, 
 if they do not develop to the magnitude they arc 
 capable of when watered by limpid streams, 
 still they shadow their localities with their abun- 
 dant boughs, and show in their smooth bark all the 
 strength of their alimentary sap. Now the eye 
 gazes towards the blue horizon, far away towards 
 vast rolling campos covered with matted, tall, 
 yellow grass, the uninterrupted growth of ages ; 
 or else with a delicate sward brilliantly green and 
 ■dotted with wild flowers. Sometimes appears a 
 succession of luxuriant clumps of woodland, so 
 regular and symmetrical in their disposition that 
 their beauty equally surprises and delights the 
 eyes of the traveller. Finally, there are barren, 
 marshy, or dry sandy tracks, Avhere in the hollows 
 are thorny thickets of the lofty bority palm and 
 the wild pine-apple. 
 
 Tlieso campos, which appear so varied in the 
 diversity of their colours — the tall yellow grass, 
 dry and parched, or the verdant carpet of light 
 green — are transformations caused by the hand of 
 some passing muleteer, who, by accident or for 
 diversion, drops a light upon the grass already 
 dried by the lieac of the tropical sun.
 
 THE SERTJO and THE SERTANEJO. 5 
 
 The incendiary carelessly watclies tlie effect of 
 liis work. 
 
 A breeze conies. A tongue of fire rises tremu- 
 lously, as if hesitating- where to precipitate itself 
 over the vast space it contemplates. The breeze 
 blows stronger. Instantly, from a thousand points^ 
 burst forth the chequered flames, leaping one to 
 the other over intervenino- areas with the contor- 
 
 O 
 
 tions of snakes writhing, darting, and gliding. 
 Anon, a broad sheet of fire, or myriads of fiery 
 darts, send heavenwards dense clouds of black 
 smoke, and, rushing onwards with fierce sullen roar 
 and startling reports, sweep over the plain, to halt 
 only by the margin of some stream which stops 
 the way, unless the wind, with vivacious breath„ 
 carries yet onwards the work of destruction. 
 
 But when, for want of feeding, that fierce 
 impetus is calmed, everything becomes covered 
 with ashes. The fire, here and there detained to 
 consume more slowly some obstacle, gradually dies 
 away until all is extinguished, leaving as a sign of 
 its passage the white sheet that followed its swift 
 career. 
 
 Through the now smoke-laden atmosphere the 
 sun peers pale and wan. The destruction is com- 
 plete. The heat intense. In the air float particles 
 of burnt gi'ass, straw, and grains of charcoal
 
 6 INNOCENCIJ. 
 
 wliicli, in the eddies of tlie air, form into little 
 vortices, and rise or fall and embrace us in a cloud 
 of cinders, or capriciously whirling to and fro, in 
 columns like water-spouts, seem to charge one 
 against the other. 
 
 Melancholy reigns supreme ; on every side is a 
 gloomy, sombre perspective. 
 
 If, however, some days hence, there falls a 
 copious rain, it would seem as if a magic wand 
 had been passed over those sombre lands and 
 traced such enchanted gardens as never were seen- 
 Vegetation develops with marvellous activity. 
 Life is transformed. There is not a spot in which 
 the grass is not piercing the ground — the young 
 sprouts seeming to watch, with a peeping eye, the 
 moment to expand into liberty. 
 
 Nothing can impede that resurrection. 
 
 To hide from view the erstwhile sad scene, one 
 night only is sufficient to spread over all a lovely 
 carpet of bright light green, a carpet of green 
 satin. Afterwards, gathering their strength, the 
 flowers of the campos spring forth, and spread to 
 the breeze of the desert their delicate petals loaded 
 with the first offerings of their sweet perfumes. 
 
 If, however, these life-bestowing showers fail to 
 appear, then for many months these fire-devastated 
 campos will remain a cemetery of vegetation
 
 THE SERTAO AND THE SERTANEJO. 7 
 
 lugubriously illumined by tbe sun, without a 
 sliade, without a cliarm, without a hopo of life, 
 with all their gay flowers and verdant grasses 
 hidden, as if sullen or sad that they have been 
 denied the means to deck the earth with their gay 
 colours as of vore. 
 
 In these melancholy regions not even is heard 
 the ciy of the coy perdiz * (a bird which is so 
 abundant before the campos are burned), only 
 now and then echoes over the silent wastes the 
 prolonged cat-like scream of some hawk as it flies 
 by overhead, or approaches the earth to seize 
 some reptile, half scorched by the prairie fire. 
 
 The eagle-like cry of the cara-cara t also occa- 
 sionally breaks the otherwise profound silence as, 
 in long leaping bounds, it procures its food of 
 insects and small snakes, or, flying close to the 
 ground, follows a flight of turkey buzzards, directed 
 by their keen olfactory nerves to some putrid 
 carcase. 
 
 The cara-cara is the messmate of those foul 
 birds. When it is hungry it will feed on carrion, 
 and, interrupted as it may be with some sharp 
 pecks from its amiable companions, it tears away 
 at the unclean feast. 
 
 If the cara-cara passes within sight of a hawk, 
 * A partridge. f -^ large carrion-liawk.
 
 8 INNOCENCIA 
 
 then the latter will precipitate itself upon the 
 former with a fierce charge, and, striking it with 
 the points of its wings, stun its antagonist, appa- 
 rently only for the sake of showing its (the hawk's) 
 incontestable superiority. 
 
 Such are the carapos when nnwatered by the 
 rain. With what pleasure therefore will the Ser- 
 tanejo hurry towards the capoes (clumps of forest) 
 which he sees far away, near the foothills of 
 distant serras, and surrounding some spring bor- 
 dered by graceful pindahybas and boritys ! With 
 what pleasure he will salute those groves of beau- 
 tiful palms, the indicators of crystal water to quench 
 his thirst and bathe his sunburnt brow ! 
 
 Sometimes these palms form avenues of singular 
 regularity in their height and disposition; but 
 more commonly they form compact groups of noble 
 columns, amongst which smaller and younger 
 growths fill the intervening spaces or follow the 
 winding courses of tributary springs. 
 
 The capoes * at once attract attention. In the 
 distance they appear as black spots, nearer as 
 domes of verdure ; finally, on approaching them, 
 as islands of luxuriant foliage, each one a restful 
 oasis for the weary limbs of the traveller exhausted 
 
 * The word is Guarauy Iiuliuii, luul signifies " ishuuis of 
 forest in a sea of grass." — [Traus.]
 
 THE SERTJO JND THE SERTANEJO. 9 
 
 witli fatigue, a shade for liis sun-dazzled eyes and 
 snn-scoi'clied face. 
 
 He hurriedly unpacks liis animals and drives 
 them to pasture where they will, and eagerly he 
 seeks the shady recesses of the wood, where a 
 peaceful rest and refreshing sleep restores to him 
 new life and vigour to continue his journey. These 
 blissful moments are, to the man of the Sertao, 
 really incomparable and superior to everything 
 that his imagination can idealise. Having satisfied 
 the thirst which has parched his throat, and hastily 
 swallowed a few spoonfuls of farinha of manioc, 
 or of pounded maize sweetened with some pieces of 
 rapadura,* he suspends his hammock, and, with a 
 profound sigh of relief, he reposes therein his 
 weary limbs, and negligently contemplates the pale 
 azure sky flecked with fleeting snowy clouds, the 
 gleaming foliage of the pale white-stemmed pin- 
 dahybas, the tops of the flowering ipes, or the 
 fronds of bority palms lisping sweet music without 
 end in the passing breeze. 
 
 How beautiful are those palms ! 
 
 The smooth trunk — a stately column, light grey 
 
 in colour, without a single discoloration of lichen 
 
 or weather — carries at its summit a dense array of 
 
 far-reaching smooth and channelled stems, which 
 
 * Compressed bricks of coarse sugar.
 
 10 INNOCENCU. 
 
 terminate in fan-like flexible leaves tremulously 
 fluttering- in tlie slightest puif of air and scintil- 
 lating in the rays of the sun with gleams of emerald 
 and gold. At the springing of the leaf-stems^ and 
 well protected by solid and strong spathes^ hang 
 great bunches of golden-brown cones^ so hard 
 that, for a time, they defy even the iron beaks 
 of the 7-nacaws. Yet what vigour these noisy 
 screamers will employ to obtain those succulent 
 fruits. They congregate in groups, some all 
 crimson as a flame of fire, others of variegated 
 colours, others, on the contrary, of deep azure 
 blue. Holding on to leaf -stems and gravely ba- 
 lancing or swaying their bodies to and fro, their 
 never-ending harsh screams resound far and wide 
 over the immense areas of the campos, a noisy 
 clamour without an object, unless when it is re- 
 doubled as a group dispute for the possession of 
 the same fruit. But nearly always they are found 
 in pairs, billing and cooing side by side. 
 
 The Sertanejo sees all this only with eyes heavy 
 with slumber. The eyelids close drowsily, al- 
 though well he knows that these groves are the 
 haunt of the jaguar and the anaconda. Uo is a 
 fatalist and confides in his destiny, and, without 
 further effort or thought, sleeps with tranquillity. 
 
 The hours pass away. The sun glides slowly to
 
 THE SERTJO JND THE SERTJNEJO. ii 
 
 its bed. The breeze freshens until the wind blows 
 strong and brisk. The boritjs no longer lisp their 
 music^ they wail and groan as the streaming leaves 
 are convulsively agitated. 
 
 It is the evening that has arrived. 
 
 Then the traveller awakens; he rubs his eyes 
 and yawns as he lazily stretches his arms^ gapes, 
 drinks a little fresh water, and then remains seated 
 some moments gazing from one side to the other 
 and whistling softly ; finally he proceeds in quest 
 of his horse or mule. 
 
 Once mounted he journeys on, easy in mind and 
 body, towards a predetermined camping place for 
 the night. 
 
 What a melancholy descends upon the earth with 
 the fall of day ! 
 
 The solitude seems to extend so far away that 
 the aspect of its very vastnoss creates a sensation 
 of timidity, by no means lessened as darkness 
 creeps rapidly over the plains and slirouds the 
 various scattered groups of distant shrubs and 
 woodlands into cloud-land, for in the distance a 
 veil of purple haze gradually unfolds itself in a 
 soft and uniform colour, above which, here and 
 there, the tops of lofty palms for a while longer 
 glow in the lingering beams of departing (\.2ij. 
 
 At this hour the heart throbs as with some in-
 
 12 INNOCENCU. 
 
 explicable fear. Any sudden sounds startle one 
 rudely; now tlie sad cry of the jau in the woods, 
 now the plaintive notes of the bucarao floating in 
 the dewy atmosphere, or a partridge uttering its 
 melancholy long-drawn w^ail, a signal for its 
 missing mate to return to its nest ere the darkness 
 renders that impossible. 
 
 Whosoever travels attentive to intimate impres- 
 sions Avill tremble, in spite of himself, at heaving 
 in these moments of sadness the toll of a church- 
 bell far away, or maybe the strident screech of a 
 locomotive. These sounds which create this illu- 
 sion are but those of insects or of birds hidden in 
 the bush. Yet so real and perfect is the decep- 
 tion, that, no matter how one may be convinced to 
 the contrary, the conjured-up memories of old 
 scenes create a craving to fly at once to those real 
 outer worlds, to rush far away from the present 
 sensation of uncannyness and fantasy. 
 
 The Sertanejo — who troubles not himself about 
 anything, who hears not the harmonies of evening, 
 who notices not the splendours of the sky, who see« 
 not the sadness loom over the earth, who fears 
 nothing, and lives consubstantially with the soli- 
 tude — he halts, and casting a glance round about 
 him, if in his neighbom^hood he discerns some 
 water, bad though it may be, he dismounts and
 
 THE SERTAO AND THE SERTANEJO. 13 
 
 unharnesses his animal, and, more for the sake of 
 distraction than for necessity, collecting some dry- 
 wood applies to it a fire from his tinder-box. 
 
 He feels perfectly happy, for there is nothing to 
 disturb the peace of his mind or the well-being of 
 his body. He is not even a monologist as are other 
 men accustomed to daily intercourse with their 
 fellow-beinj^s. 
 
 His thoughts are few, for he remembers only the 
 leagues he has travelled, or computes the number 
 he has yet to travel, in order to reach the end of 
 his journey. 
 
 On the following day, when the dawn awakens 
 all that virgin nature, he mechanically recommences 
 his journey. 
 
 He observes no difference in the heavens; the 
 clouds are the same as before ; the sun passes the 
 cardinal points ; and the earth only calls for his 
 attention when some recognised feature serves to 
 mark a milestone on the road he travels. 
 
 "Ah!" he exclaims aloud, on seeing some 
 gigantic tree, or a particular configuration of the 
 land, " I have reached the big piuva tree," or, " I 
 have arrived at the high cliff. To the camp of the 
 Jacare it is sixteen long miles." And glancing 
 towards the sun he concludes, " Three hours from 
 now I shall be lighting my fire."
 
 14 INNOCENCIJ. 
 
 There are some days wlien tlie Sertanejo will 
 whistle. To sing is rare ; even his Lest attempt 
 is in a low voicCj like one communing with himself 
 rather than notes from the robust chest. His 
 principal diversion is to rejoly to the cry of the 
 partridge or to the majestic call of the timid 
 zabele. 
 
 To the roar of the jaguar he is indifferent ; at 
 the most he notices only the numerous tracks of 
 the animal which intersect the road in all di- 
 rections. 
 
 " What a bicho ! " he murmurs, as he contem- 
 plates a footprint unusually deep in the sand. 
 '^ With a good dog 1 would soon drive that ' diabo ' 
 into a corner and cram some lead into his muzzle." 
 
 Tlio legitimate Sertanejo — the explorer of these 
 deserts — is a man without family. Whilst a young 
 man his only object of life is to see new regions, 
 to tread the wild campos, " where the foot of man 
 hath ne'er or rarely been," to wade through un- 
 known rivers, ex2)lore their sources, or penetrate 
 the depths of the virgin forest. His pride increases 
 in proportion to the extent or importance of the 
 journeys he has made. His greatest pleasure is 
 to enumerate the brooks he has crossed, the streams 
 he has named, the serras he has climbed, the 
 swamps he has daringly traversed or, with rare
 
 THE SERTJO AND THE SERTJNEJO. 15 
 
 patience, spent days in travelling round. Every 
 year that ends adds something to his valuable 
 knowledge, adds another stone to the monument 
 of his innocent pride. 
 
 " No one can come up to me," he proudly and 
 emphatically exclaims ; "in the campos of the 
 Vaccaria, in the sertao of the Mimoso, or in the 
 swamps of the Pequiry, I am king." 
 
 This presumption of royal magnificence inspires 
 him with a mode of speech and gesticulation truly 
 majestic in its rude manifestation. He feels as- 
 sured that he can never be lost in the wilderness, 
 and the feeling seems to carry him beyond the 
 unknown, and allows him the license of infalli- 
 bility. If he extends an arm and points over 
 space in a certain direction, he declares peremp- 
 torily : 
 
 "^In this direction, eighty miles hence, is a wild 
 serra, and beyond it a deep river ; "" or, " There, 
 twenty miles from here, is a thick, tangled forest, 
 on the borders of a morass ; if you go straight on, 
 in five days you will come up with the camping 
 ground of ihe Tatu, on the road to Cuyaba." 
 
 What ho describes in one direction, with the 
 same imperturbable serenity and assurance he will 
 indicate in any other. 
 
 When he is describing his discoveries, the only
 
 i6 INNOCENCU. 
 
 demonstra.tion that lie will admit from any one is 
 one of admiration. The slightest suspicion of 
 doubt or inattention at once brings a flush of 
 anger to his face, and his gestures speedily denote 
 his indignation. 
 
 " You do not believe me ! " he then replies. 
 ''Then teach your own bicho* the road as I 
 have told you. But listen, on the third day's 
 journey it will be decided who is a liar and a 
 humbug. It is one thing to converse of, but quite 
 another to find one^s way through these worlds of 
 ' Christo.' " 
 
 When the Sertanejo begins to age, when his 
 limbs feel tired and heavy, when the eyes become 
 dimmed, the once sturdy arm requiring an effort 
 to wield the hatchet that procures him the stipe 
 of the cabbage-palm or the succulent wild honey, 
 it is then that ho takes unto himself a wife, 
 generally some widow or else a near relation. He 
 builds his house and school, and eventually pi'c- 
 pares his sons and his grandsons for the free and 
 ad venturous life which offered him so many charms 
 in the days gone by. 
 
 These disciples, steeped in curiosity to witness 
 
 * Biclio is significative in Brazil of any niortul or immortal 
 thing or substance, from a ghost to an elephant, a flea to a loco- 
 motive. In this case it is applied to a horse or mule. — [Transl.]
 
 THE SERTJO AND THE SERTANEJO. 17 
 
 the grand scenes of nature so often described, one 
 fine day desert the paternal roof, and, scattering 
 in various directions, each one pi'oceeds on his 
 sohtary way — -to the confines of the ParaucX, to 
 the bushlands of S. Paulo, to the tablelands of 
 Goyaz, or the wilderness of Mato G-rosso. In fact, 
 to anywhere, where there are desert solitudes, 
 they go to put in practice all they have so well 
 attended to, thinking always of the exploits of 
 their celebrated master and progenitor.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 
 
 The 15tli July, 1860^ as is usually tlie case iu 
 winter in tlie interior of Brazil, was a day clear, 
 serene, and fresh. 
 
 The sun, already liigh on its course, and with 
 rays not very warm for intertropical regions, shone 
 brightly upon the road whose aspect we have en- 
 deavoured to depict as the one leading from the 
 town of Sant' Anna do Paranahyba to Camapuan. 
 
 At this hour, and following that road, a traveller 
 was seen mounted on a strongly-built, pacing, 
 flea-bitten brown mule. His physiognomy and 
 mode of costume denoted a man of ordinary and 
 common-place life, such as some fazendeiro or 
 farmer of the neighbourhood returning to his 
 home. His visible raiment comprised a broad- 
 brimmed Chili hat encircled with a black ribbon.
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 19 
 
 and a ponclio of varied colours wliicli readied to 
 his strong, -well-made riding-boots of yellow 
 leather. 
 
 At the most he appeared to be only five-and- 
 twenty, with a pleasing presence and an air of 
 intelliorence and decision. His features were 
 fairly regular ; eyes clear, open, and black ; and 
 beard and hair dark and closely trimmed. 
 
 In his hand he grasped a long switch, lately 
 cut from the roadside, and which he distractedly 
 waved in the air or with it swept aside the boughs 
 which overhung the road. 
 
 He travelled alone, and on the occasion on 
 which we commence this story he was passing 
 along that beautiful piece of the road which lies 
 between the house of Albina Lata and that of 
 Leal, and is twenty-eight good miles beyond the 
 fever-stricken and decadent town of Sant^ Anna 
 do Paranahyba, 
 
 This portion of the road, shaded by the trees of 
 the sightly cerrado, althoug-h very sandy is firm, 
 and resembles a path in a well-kept garden rather 
 than the track of mules and waggons. 
 
 The charm of the verdant shades is here further 
 augmented by the presence of innumerable brown 
 and grey doves, whose incessant flutter of wings 
 produces a sound pleasing as it is singular. 
 
 c2
 
 20 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Our traveller, altliougli lie seemed distracted in 
 attention and lialf immersed in liis tliouglits, did 
 not appear withal to be of a morose nature or un- 
 observant. On tlie contrary, for at times lie would 
 suddenly awaken from an apparent torpor and 
 commence to sing aloud, to wliistle, or else to 
 a,pply spurs to his valiant beast, which promptly 
 increased its paces, its long ears waving and beat- 
 ing time to its steps. 
 
 In one of those reactions against some pre- 
 occupation, he observed aloud, as he pulled out a 
 silver watch attached to a chain of the same metal : 
 
 " Two hours hence I intend to take a siesta 
 under the roof of Leal. It wants little to mid-day, 
 and there is no need to hurry." 
 
 He accordingly moderated the pace of the mule, 
 and gaping furiously with ennui, amused himself 
 by absently switching at the passing- bushes. 
 
 A short time only he thus proceeded on his way 
 alone, for soon afterwards another traveller joined 
 him, one mounted on an ugly and knock-kneed 
 but very strong little horse, bathed in sweat from 
 a fast gallop. 
 
 The new arrival, a man already advanced in 
 years, was stout in figure, and with a face full, 
 round, rubicund, and jovial in expression. He 
 wore the leather hat, the striped cotton garments,
 
 
 ' Halloa there, fellow countryuian ! ' 
 
 p. 21
 
 THE TRAVELLER. ii 
 
 and wide riding-boots of a native of Minas, and 
 appeared — as lie eventually proved — to be an 
 inhabitant of the neighbourliood. 
 
 " Hallo tliere, fellow-countryman ! " he exclaimed, 
 as he moderated the pace of his animal to that of 
 the person he interrogated ; " hallo ! are you 
 going to Camapuan ? " 
 
 The other looked somewhat suspiciously at the 
 stranger who addressed him so peremptorily, and 
 he replied evasively : 
 
 " Perhaps yes, perhaps no. But who is it who 
 inquires my purpose ?" 
 
 " Ah, excuse me," replied the former laughingly, 
 " I did not even greet you — I am such a heedless- 
 fellow — God be with you ! — There, this always^ 
 happens to me. My tongue sometimes gets so 
 crazy that it clatters in my jaws — that is, God 
 help us, and — however, I need not tell you : water 
 runs and so does my tongue. Look you, many 
 times I have got into trouble — but what would 
 you ? It is an old bad habit. Not that I am a 
 ruffianly fellow, you know. Heaven defend me 
 from being such ! I i-epel the idea. But a tink- 
 ling, heedless fellow — yes, a very rattletrap. As 
 soon as I sighted you I just itched all over to 
 talk." 
 
 The volubility with which these Avords were
 
 22 JNNOCENCU. 
 
 uttered somewliat startled the young mau, wlio 
 now scrutinised liis companion witli more atten- 
 tion, but witli less reserve in liis manner. Then, 
 as lie noted tlie merry physiognomy and good- 
 tempered look of the talkative stranger, he could 
 not repress a sympathetic smile as he laughingly 
 observed : 
 
 "By what I see, the Senhor evidently loves a 
 chat." 
 
 " Oh ! don't I/' replied the other. " Why, in 
 these sertoes I only feel the want of one thing ; 
 and that is the diflBculty of meeting a Christian 
 with whom I can have a bit of gossip. Ah ! yes, 
 indeed, one gets crazy here. Every one you meet 
 has nothing to say for himself — truly, a great mis- 
 fortune ! I am not one of these people here, I am 
 a Mineiro ; I was born in Parahybuna, and I knew 
 in my time people who could talk, and I was 
 Drought up in Mata do Rio as a human being and 
 not as a bicho of the woods." 
 
 " Ah ! The Senhor is from Minas ? " 
 
 " Geraes, if you please. I was baptised at Vas- 
 souras it is true, but I am a Mineiro to the core. 
 I knocked about all over the country before I 
 settled in this region. That is already long ago, 
 for I am now getting old. It is more than forty 
 years since I left my parents."
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 23 
 
 Interrupting himself a moment lie inquii^ed, 
 " Is tlie Senlior from Minas also ? "''' 
 
 " Nhor-nao/''* replied the other. " I am a native 
 of S. Paulo ; I was born in the town of Casa 
 Branca, but I was educated at Ouro Preto.'^ 
 
 " Ah ! In the imperial city ? ■" 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " Then you are nearly from my old homej" re- 
 plied the Mineiro, laughing boisterously. " Now, 
 who would have thought it ? Yet I hastened my 
 march when I saw your fresh tracks in the sand. 
 There goes, I said to myself, some chap who is not 
 in a hurry ; and whipping up my little ' Penknife ' 
 I tried to catch you up so that I might not make 
 the journey talking only to my buttons. Do you 
 think I did any harm ? " 
 
 '^ Nao, Senhor/' the young man protested with 
 affability, " I am much obliged to you for your 
 attention. In this way we shall without fatigue 
 reach the house of Leal, where I intend to repose 
 my bones for the night." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed the other frankly, '' our road 
 is the same. Look you, my rich Senhor, I live two 
 miles away from Leal, turning off to the left, and 
 if you are not engaged to the man, do me the 
 
 * This is a corruption of niio, Senhor — no, sir — and is an icli(>m 
 peculiar to the interior provinces of Brazil. — [Trans.]
 
 24 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 favour to put up under the roof [of one who, if 
 poor, is a friend to serve you. My quarters are 
 somewhat retired from the road, but he who goes 
 mounted like the Senhor thinks nothing of a bit of 
 a league more of his journey/' 
 
 An invitation so spontaneous and friendly could 
 not be otherwise than appreciated, especially in 
 those regions, and soon produced'between the two 
 travellers the familiarity that one so quickly 
 establishes when en route. 
 
 "With much pleasure I will accompany you 
 home," replied the young man. " I have never seen 
 Leal, and, moreover, this is the first time that I 
 have travelled in this Sertuo, where it seems one 
 has to go from resting-place to resting-place 
 begging only fur a corner in a barn or ranch to 
 pass the night with one's attendants." 
 
 " Then bring you a troop ? " 
 
 " No, only two cargo animals which carry my 
 baggage, and a spare mule." 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! my friend travels like a nobleman," 
 the Mineiro leisurely observed. 
 
 " Bah ! Privations enough I have already ex- 
 perienced." 
 
 " Well, certainly you won't experience them in 
 our shanty as long as you care to remain there. 
 You won't find luxuries, it is true, nor any be-
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 25 
 
 longings of wealth, only sucli^ as at tlie best^ you 
 can obtain in tliese 'worlds' (regions), as four 
 walls of upright sticks but poorly plastered over, 
 a trestle canvas bed, good beans in abundance, 
 some chopped hei'bs, rice, good roasted maize, 
 coffee, and even possibly a loin of fresh pork." 
 
 " Now look you ! " exclaimed the young- man, 
 laughing heartily. " I shall fare as well as a 
 quartermaster-general. I want not so much, 
 enough for me " 
 
 '' What I wish above all," interrupted his com- 
 panion, "^ is that you will just speak straight out. 
 If you like not your stay, say so frankly, and go 
 away at once. In my ranch I can but put up a 
 few people, and, as it is situated some distance 
 away from the main road, you may perhaps want 
 for something; in any case I will do the best I can." 
 
 After a short jDause he continued : 
 
 " But I think it is already time, now that we 
 are as two friends from the occasion of our meeting, 
 to know with whom we are treating. I, so far as 
 I am concerned, am called Martinho dos Santos 
 Pereira, and my history I can tell in two 'wisps 
 of straw."* Your title, what is it ?" 
 
 '' Cyrino Ferreira de Campos," replied the other 
 traveller, " a seivant to serve you." 
 
 "Thankyou," replied Pei'eira, courteously bowing
 
 26 INNOCENCU. 
 
 and raising liis liand to his liat. " As I liave just 
 observed, my history is soon told. My people are 
 not of an ignoble race ; on the contrary, my father 
 — whom God gave to glory — possessed some pro- 
 perty and left to his many children an honourable 
 and respected name. Each one of us — we were 
 seven brothers — went his own way. I married 
 very young and went to live in Diamantina, where 
 I opened a store. After my wife died, I removed, 
 first to Piumhy, and later on to Uberaba. I then 
 began to be disheartened with life, and calculated 
 that as I was so far away in the backwoods I 
 might just as well be in the Sertao. I therefore 
 sold my hardware business and buried myself here 
 with three slaves. I have lived twelve years in this 
 hole, and really, and on my word of honour, I have 
 not repented doing so. In my little fazenda there is 
 abundance, and ' praise and glory ' I have never 
 wanted for necessaries. Not for this can I com- 
 plain. Deus, Nosso Senhor Jesus Christo, has 
 watched over me, and I consider myself well 
 protected, especially when I think of the great 
 misery there is in other regions. Cruz ! It is not 
 even good to talk about. Tell me one thing, how- 
 ever, where are you bound for ?" 
 
 " Really, Senhor Percira, I have no certain des- 
 tination."
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 27 
 
 " Truly ? Tlien are you aimlessly wandering 
 about?" 
 
 "I will place everytliing before you ^on clean 
 plates.'* I aui travelling about tliese distant 
 regions curing agues and severe fevers." 
 
 ''All !" exclaimed Pereira^ witli manifest satis- 
 faction, " tben you are a doctor, eL. ? Pbysicians 
 as we used to call tbem in bygone times. 
 
 " It is tlie trutli," confirmed Cyrino, with, some 
 vanity. 
 
 ''Look you now ! Best of all, tlie sop bas fallen 
 in tbe lioney ! " 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "You will soon know. But tell me. Where 
 did you read in the books and learn your charms 
 and witchcraft ? In the Court of the Empire ?" 
 
 " No," replied Cyrino, "I studied at first in the 
 college of Cara9a ; afterwards I went to Ouro 
 Preto, where I obtained my diploma of pharma- 
 ceutist. And/"" he added with some complacency, 
 " since then I have wandered all over the west of 
 Minas and made cures that are marvellous." 
 
 " Ah ! Knowledge is a good thing — I also have 
 a smattering of something more than mere read- 
 ing and writing, although I only do that so so ; 
 
 * An idiom expressive of "I wiil bo thoroughly frank with 
 you."
 
 28 INNOCENCU. 
 
 but whoever is born to be a carrierj just turns, 
 messes about, lets go, takes up, but ever ends 
 close to tbe waggon. Witlial tlien, you under- 
 stand how to cure ? " 
 
 " I do," affirmed Cyrino, without the least hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 " Well, you tumbled most happily into my 
 hands, Sim Sonhor. A child of mine is ill with 
 the chills — my daughter — for whose sake I have 
 been to Sant' Anna to fetch some quinine ; but 
 there they had none of the cursed stuff, and I was 
 returning veiy sad, now " 
 
 " I bring," interrupted the other, " an abun- 
 dance of remedies in my trunks. For fever and 
 ague I have an infallible composition*" 
 
 ''Yes, T know; something with quinine in it. 
 It is a holy medicine, I gave to the little one 
 some I made from the quina of the campos, but 
 that had but little force and no effect, so little 
 indeed that she still has the ague." 
 
 " How many days is it since she had the last 
 attack of cold rigors ? " inquired the so-called 
 doctor. 
 
 "To-day is the tenth day. Until now she was 
 a lusty girl, healthy and rosy as a janibo. I can't 
 imagine how she caught the chills. No one can 
 rely upon that town of Sant' Anna; it is a nest of
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 29 
 
 fevers. Mucli against my will I took lier there, 
 but slie bothered me so, and as it was to see her 
 godmother — a very good woman and of much im- 
 portance, the wife o£ Major Mello Taques — I con- 
 sented. Do you know him ? " 
 
 " Certainly I do.'' 
 
 " And are you intimate with the Major ? " asked 
 Pereira, with the view of opening a new field of 
 chatter. 
 
 " I stayed with him when I was in the town." 
 
 " And don't you like him ? Is not he just what 
 you may call an upright man. Why, he is the 
 chief prop of all the work in Sant' Anna : he is the 
 tatu* of the place< When he wants to get up a 
 good old gossip according to his taste he sends 
 out to fetch the padre, and then these two soon 
 arrange a conversation that just gives even me a 
 surfeit. And you know he is a man of letters and 
 much learning ; he writes to the government ; he 
 is a justice of the peace and a full major, serves 
 as the municipal judge, and is worthy of much 
 esteem. He lives in a storied house and has a 
 store of all sorts of goods, and the things are cheap 
 considering the distance. And, ah ! what stories 
 can't ho tell ! Eh ! Ho never finishes. The 
 man seems to know the whole of the Empire ; the 
 * The person of the most consideration.
 
 30 INNOCENCU. 
 
 vicar is nowliere. Look you, Senhor Cyrino, I will 
 tell you something wJiich perliaps you will tliink 
 extraordinary. Sometimes I skip up to tlie town 
 just to say a word or two witli tke Major, because 
 witk the people about here, why bless you, you can 
 do nothing ; it is tempting Providence it is. Then, 
 as I was telling you, I galloped up to there, and 
 got into such a conversation that it just filled me 
 up to the brim. There is not " 
 
 " Excuse me interrupting you a moment," inter- 
 rupted Cyrino ; ''but tell me, Senhor Poreira, can 
 I do any business about here ? " 
 
 "Man! It depends. Sick people there are in 
 abundance ; but they are also as mean as only 
 they know how to be. Some distance from my 
 house there is Coellio, who is dying, and has 
 been dying these many years, and he is a man with 
 plenty of coin. If you cure him, perhaps you will 
 come in for some of his coppers. All the rest is 
 more or less a rude mob of people. By-the-by, 
 have you plenty of the quinine of commerce ? " 
 
 " I have," responded Cyrino, " but it is dear.'" 
 
 •' That it is dear, I know well. But that vou 
 have it, is enough, because here in these regions 
 ague is everywhere." 
 
 Senhor Pereira then commenced to enumerate 
 the ills that had attacked him during his life ; a
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 31 
 
 few only^ it is true, but tliey were serious, and 
 witli tliis tlieme at liis disposal lie found sufficient 
 to talk about until lie was nearly exhausted for 
 want of breath. 
 
 His companion was silent, and listened with the 
 inattention of one preoccupied with thought, or, 
 in any case, quite heedlessly to all that his new 
 friend related, awakening only from his apathy to 
 instigate with his voice, or to spur on, the move- 
 ments of his mule whenever that animal seemed 
 inclined to pause for a rest or to seize a mouthful 
 of some wayside grass. 
 
 Pereira at last noticed the inattention of his 
 companion. 
 
 "You are in a sad kind of mood," said he. " Have 
 you left any of your belongings behind you ?" 
 
 '^ Man, to be frank with you/' replied Cyrino, 
 giving vent to a sigh, " I have left something, and 
 this something is a debt, a debt of honour — cards." 
 
 " That is bad,"" replied the Mineiro seriously. 
 " That ' demonio ' and women are the cause why so 
 many crosses grow by the roadside. But is it a 
 big sum ? ^' 
 
 '^ Three hundred milreis " (£30 about). 
 
 " That is a lump, truly. Who did you play 
 with?" 
 
 '^With Toto' Siqueira of Sant' Anna. He
 
 32 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 ■wanted to stop my departure, bat I promised to 
 send him the amount from Sucuriu by my servant. 
 I gave him a note to that effect, and just now I 
 am thinking hoAv I shall obtain the money even 
 when I get there. '^ 
 
 '' If those who owe you pay you, you are all 
 right. In any case put the screw on to the sick 
 ones a little.'^ 
 
 " You cannot imagine," replied Cyrino, with true 
 feeling, " how miserable this wretched debt lias 
 made me. It is not for the sake of tlie money — 
 that does not trouble me — but it is because I have 
 been gambling, a thing I never did before in all 
 my life, and that is the trutb.''^ 
 
 " Therefore, meu Senhor," j^i'oceeded Pereira, 
 " let this serve as a lesson ; and take a word of 
 caution : beware of these people of the Sertao, not 
 exactly of those who live in decent homes, you 
 know, but rather of casual strangers, muleteers, 
 carriers, and such like, for they arc more often 
 than not only gangs of gamblers, armed with 
 marked cards and all kinds of shuffling tricks, and 
 for a mere straw they v/ill suck a knife into the 
 stomach of a Christian, or let fly the contents of a 
 pistol at the head of a companion as if it were only 
 a rotten melon. Besides, when the demon of play 
 seizes hold of one, he takes up his abode in him,
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 33 
 
 and straightway shuts out all feeling of shame. 
 For the attraction of women there is perhaps 
 some excuse, but once you are enticed into play 
 and lotteries, the sooner you move on the better. 
 I .once had an uncle who lived in Corredor, about 
 eight miles this side of Oamapuan, and who 
 worked on his lands the whole year round just to 
 go to Sucuriu and play until he lost his last 
 copper/^ 
 
 Pereira, in possession of so wide a subject, 
 related stories innumerable, some were lugubinous 
 in their incidents, others jocular, some were true, 
 and others were invented for the occasion. 
 
 Meanwhile, as the two men had now covered 
 several miles of their journey, the sun had already 
 approached the horizon, and from the west arrived 
 the first wafts of the evening breeze. 
 
 " We," observed the Mineiro, " with our con- 
 versation, have allowed the animals to crawl along*. 
 But we are already at ray road. Here it is, Senhor 
 Cyrino ; that one ahead leads on to Leal; my 
 fazenda lands commence at this point, and, skirt- 
 ing the road, extend thence to far away in the 
 distance. 
 
 On saying these words he left the main road on 
 his right and followed a wide open- road, Avliich, 
 with many turns and windings, led towards a 
 
 D
 
 34 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 limpid stream. The animals, hearing the murmur 
 of running water^, at once quickened their paces, 
 and soon afterwards, on reaching the brook, they 
 plunged in breast high, quenching their thirst as 
 they advanced step by step against the current 
 in search of the clearest water. 
 
 " Don't let your beast overload himself," ob- 
 served Pereira. " Up~la ! " he continued, as he 
 pulled the reins of his horse and gave him a 
 friendly pat on its extended neck. " Up-la ! my 
 Penknife ! Let us rather go and fill up the empti- 
 ness with good corn." 
 
 On the further side of the stream, a narrow path 
 led through some woods thick with undergrowth, 
 and then afterwards joined a broad road, where 
 the travellers put their animals to a half gallop. 
 
 Finally, with the sun already low, there appeared 
 in sight J above the outline of the darkening trees of 
 a thick wood, the peak of a mast of S. John, which 
 the Mineiro saluted merrily as the neighbourhood 
 of his cherished home. 
 
 Before, however, we penetrate therein, let us 
 say who was that youth who thus travelled with 
 the pompous title of doctor, and, what is more, 
 was armed with authority to go where he pleased 
 to apply remedies and assure miraculous cures.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE DOCTOE. 
 
 Cyeino de Campos was born, as lie liad told 
 Pereira, in the province of S. Paulo, in the peace- 
 ful and pretty town of Casa Branca, about two 
 hundred miles from the coast. Son of a vendor 
 of drugs (who called himself chemist, and added 
 to his trade the functions of a post-office master), 
 Cyrino grew up under the parental eyes until he 
 reached the age of twelve years, when he was 
 sent at one festival time, and with many kindly 
 recommendations, to an old uncle and godfather, 
 an inhabitant of Ouro Preto, Minas Geraes. 
 
 This relation — a bachelor, and by disposition 
 extremely morose, misanthropical, and given to 
 the practice of the most penurious habits — received 
 the boy surlily and with manifest discontent ; for 
 the presence of a stranger would naturally inter- 
 
 d2
 
 36 INNOCENCU. 
 
 rupt tlie manner of complete retirement to wliicli 
 lie had been addicted for so many years. 
 
 He was an old man wlio yet retained tlie fashions 
 of his youth in wearing knee-breeches and buckle 
 rhoes, powdered hair and a pig--tail. 
 
 He was reputed to be wealthy^ so much so, that 
 throughout the city of Ouro Preto it was affirmed 
 that he was a thorough miser, the public voice 
 declaring that his gold, and that no small sum, 
 was buried in holes he had made in the floor of 
 his bedroom. 
 
 " My little friend," observed his godfather to 
 Cyrino a few days after his arrival, " you may rest 
 assured that, for the merest trifle, I will drive 
 every grain of dust out of your jacket with a good 
 cudgelling', so just be advised in time, and take 
 care to conduct yourself as straight as a spindle/' 
 
 The boy, terrified, retired to a dark corner of 
 the house, where, all the long evening until slum- 
 ber relieved his feelings, he passed the dreary 
 hours in bitter tears and in regretful memories of 
 the happy days passed with his old playfellows on 
 the luxuriant grass lands of the outskirts of Casa 
 Branca, and, above all, in yearning longings for 
 the lovingkindness of his mother. 
 
 After having relieved himself of such a precau- 
 tionary admonition, the uncle then proceeded to the
 
 THE DOCTOR. 37 
 
 house of certain padres wlio possessed some influ- 
 ence in the neighbouring college of Cara9a, and 
 with them he made arrangements for the admission 
 of his nephew into that establishment for clerical 
 instruction. 
 
 With his natural cunning, he succeeded without 
 much difficulty in obtaining his desires, and in 
 paying the costs with compound interest merely 
 by the aid of tempting promises. 
 
 " At present/' he observed, or rather he hinted 
 to the padres, "■ I can do nothing for the edu- 
 cation of the lad, but — in short — I am already 
 an old man, you know, and — and some day I — I 
 will try to prove that I do not forget the good 
 padres who have helped me so much," 
 
 The priests unhesitatingly construed his vague 
 promises into an intended legacy of a good round 
 sum, and, relying upon such an eventuality, it was 
 decided that Cyrino should be admitted to the 
 college. 
 
 The knowledge of the want of natural protection 
 generally causes boys to become docile and re- 
 signed to their fate. The country lad therefore 
 preserved a timid silence as he passed the threshold 
 of the home, where, withal, he would but sadly 
 pass the best days of his youth in masticating 
 Latin, stammering Telemachus, and, day and
 
 38 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 nie^lit, intoning in a falsetto voice tlie service of 
 the Church. 
 
 Unquestionably the old uncle had done a very 
 good stroke of business to attain his object with 
 the expenditure only of words which cost him 
 nothing ; moreover, he clung to life so tenaciously, 
 that, eventually, he had the satisfaction of seeing 
 carried to their last home in the cemetery two of 
 the padres in whom he had created such hopes of 
 inheriting some of his wealth. 
 
 Finally, as he also had to pay the universal 
 tribute, one fine day he died when least expected, 
 but uttering strict injunctions to attend to his will, 
 which v^as promptly examined with an eagerness 
 worthy of a better cause. 
 
 A last will and testament it was, it is true ; yet 
 it was not merely a testament only, but an exten- 
 sive legal argument, and all done in the hand- 
 writing of the old man ; but of bars of gold or of 
 piles of notes, not the shadow of a vestige nor a 
 word of mention. 
 
 The house was searched from top to bottom ; the 
 floors were taken up ; the walls were sounded ; 
 the furniture was broken ; yet all in vain, nothing 
 appeared, nothing indicated the hiding place of 
 the riches nor gave any clue to guess their where- 
 abouts.
 
 THE DOCTOR. 39 
 
 Then it was discovered tliat tlie old fraud — 
 once a follower of the arcli-rebel Xavier, or Tira- 
 Dentes (the Tooth Drawer) — was really what he 
 had always professed to be, a man without a penny, 
 and who had philosophically lived at the cost of 
 his neio'hbours on the credit of the wealth with 
 which, they in their imaginations had endowed him. 
 
 His last testament was one long satire, half 
 jocular, half ironical, like a mocking laugh from 
 the tomb, and endorsed by the sarcastic legacy of 
 his library, which, in a pompously-worded codicil, 
 he left to the padres of Cara9a, '^ with the end," 
 said he, " to aid the education of youths and 
 further the good intentions of their honoured and 
 virtuous directors/'' 
 
 On searching for the books, an old trunk was 
 discovered filled with the remains of volumes 
 destroyed by white ants. Amid cries of indig- 
 nation and horror, these were, by order of the 
 padres, immediately committed to the flames of an 
 auto dafe; for the fragments of the books showed 
 them to be translations in Portuguese of The Ruins 
 of Yolney, The Man of Nature, The Philosophical 
 Dictionary of Voltaire, TJce Quotations of Pigault- 
 Lebrun, The War of the Gods ot Parny, and the 
 romances of the Marquis of Sade. 
 
 The consequences of this posthumous joke, which
 
 40 INNOCENCU. 
 
 destroyed to tlie root the conceit of a lifetime, was 
 the immediate exclusion of Cyrino from the college 
 of Cara^a. 
 
 He was then eighteen years old, and, although 
 an odium was attached to him on account of his 
 relationship to his singular and deceased protector, 
 yet, being active and intelligent, he succeeded in 
 obtaining a situation as an assistant in a small 
 drug store, where, amongst medicines and pre- 
 scriptions, he found himself returning to the old 
 -associations of his parental home. 
 
 The work was light; the preparation of pre- 
 scriptions occurring so seldom that the pharma- 
 ceutical ingredients remained for entire months in 
 their chipped and mouldy flasks waiting for some 
 one to think of removing them from their dusty 
 oblivion. 
 
 Amidst a small population, for a simple seller of 
 drugs to become practically a member of the 
 medical faculty there is but one step. In due 
 time Oyrino began to acquire some practice in the 
 art of prescribing, and, by constantly studying the 
 medical work of Chernoviz, he became so familiar 
 with its pages, that, with some medicines in his 
 trunk, he one day set out on a voyage of discovery 
 in the neighbouring districts in a search for 
 patients requiring his services.
 
 THE DOCTOR. 41 
 
 It was on these journeyin^s that lie commenced 
 to receive the appellation of " doctor ; '''' and, to 
 somewhat justify a claim to such a title, he left the 
 service of the drug seller, and, matriculating- in 
 the School of Pharmacy of Ouro Preto, he duly 
 received from the President of the Province the 
 diploma of chemist and druggist. 
 
 No sooner was he in possession of this desirable 
 document than Cyrino made a final departure, and 
 proceeded to travel through the inhabited regions 
 of the Sertao, to cure, bleed, cut, and slash, uniting 
 to a limited knowledge of some value such ideas 
 as his experience indicated or that popular opinion 
 or superstition called for. 
 
 The whole of his knowledge was based on Cher- 
 noviz, ever his inseparable '^vade-mecum," his 
 golden book. Day and night it was in his hands ; 
 day and night he consulted its pages, by the side 
 of his camp fire or by the bed of the sick. 
 
 Chernoviz, say the authorities, contains many 
 errors and much irrelevant and useless matter ; 
 however, in the interior of Brazil it is a work that 
 incontestably has done good service, and one whose 
 teachings have the force of those of the Evan- 
 gelists. 
 
 Cyrino was so familiar with every page of his 
 copy that he could at once unhesitatingly open it
 
 42 INNOCENCU. 
 
 at any part lie required^ and by its means lie 
 obtained a fund of instruction tliat was correct up 
 to a certain pointy and with wliicli was happily 
 united the natural study of the useful and little- 
 utilised herbs of the campos and forest. 
 
 With the object of increasing his resources in 
 indigenous medicinal herbs^ he at times extended 
 his tours beyond the inhabited regions, and only 
 returned to his town when in want of such drugs 
 as he could not obtain from Nature. 
 
 Finally, being naturally disposed to the complete 
 freedom of action of the life of a wanderer, he 
 resolved on undertaking a journey to Camapuan 
 and the south of Mato Grosso ; not only with the 
 intention of extending his range of operations, but 
 also with the view of satisfying his desires to 
 explore new and distant lands. 
 
 The young man was naturally of a generous 
 disposition, and his mind was incapable of breeding 
 unworthy thoughts ; nevertheless, in the depths of 
 his character there had already taken root certain 
 habits of pride or a somewhat excessive self-esteem, 
 the natural balance to a more or less share of 
 acquired quackery, arising not only from his in- 
 sufficient knowledge, but more especially from the 
 narrow world of thought in which he had always 
 lived.
 
 THE DOCTOR. 43 
 
 In any case, witli all his defects, lie was far 
 superior to tlie ordinary peripatetic quack of the 
 Sertao, such as one so often meets in those regions, 
 and who is usually a man of the most crass 
 ignorance, but surrounded by prerogatives of the 
 most exceptional character. He enters everywhere ; 
 he penetrates the utmost seclusion of home life ; 
 he occupies the best seat at the guests'* table, the 
 softest bed in the house. In short, the doctor 
 is a sacred person fallen from heaven, and, for 
 many miles round, he attracts not only the sick, 
 the halt, and the blind, but also fanatical hypo- 
 chondriacs, who for years having prescribed for 
 themselves or followed the advice of neighbours, 
 now come to tender to these Messiah doctors all 
 their most ardent hopes for their longed-for con- 
 valescence.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HOME OP THE MINEIKO. 
 
 When the travellers reached the entrance to the 
 yard containing the farm buildings of Pereira, 
 four or five lean and hungry dogs dashed towards 
 them, welcoming their master with noisy yelps of 
 joy. Some fowls scurried away at a run ; two 
 roosters, already perched for the night on the 
 ridge of the roof of an outhouse, crowed lustily ; 
 and, from various holes and corners, big pigs and 
 little pigs here and there peeped with their small 
 and sleepy eyes, and wondered at the commotion. 
 
 From the interior of the habitation soon appeared 
 a poorly-clad and aged negress, her head and 
 shoulders enveloped in a coarse cotton cloth. 
 
 ''Ho, ho, there! Ah, Maria Conga!" called 
 Pereira, " What is there new about here ? " 
 
 " A blessing, meu Senhor,'' the slave petitioned 
 by extending her open hand as she somewhat 
 slowly approached.
 
 THE HOME OF THE MINEIRO. 45 
 
 " God make tliee holy," brusquely responded 
 tlie Mineiro. " How fares the child 'JSTocencia ? " 
 
 " Nlia-nha * has got the ague." 
 
 " That I know well, but how has she fared 
 since the day before yesterday until now ?" 
 
 "Every day when the hour conies ^nha^ clatters 
 her jaws, Sim Senhor/' 
 
 " Humph ! What is bad is that the attacks 
 have not lessened. Well, we shall see presently. 
 And dinner ? Is it ready ? I am quite done up 
 with hunger. What say you, Senhor Cyrino?'" 
 he asked, as he turned to his companion. 
 
 " I also can manage to eat something. We 
 have reason to " 
 
 " Well then," interrupted Pereira, " put your 
 foot on the ground and press hard, for the soil is 
 ours. My house, as I have already told you, is a 
 poor one, but it will fill you and is closed against 
 no one." 
 
 Then, setting the example, he removed the 
 harness from his little horse and left it to find its 
 way to some outbuildings which served as stables. 
 
 Cyrino also dismounted, but, as he entered a 
 species of verandah with a thatched palm-leaf 
 roof which shaded the whole front of the house, 
 
 * Is'ha-nha is a negro term appliotl to the eldest or only 
 daughter of a family, pronounced Eenvah een-vah. — [TransL]
 
 46 INNOCENCU. 
 
 lie paused^ and liis gestures and physiognomy 
 showed some vexation of mind. 
 
 " There now^ Senhor Pereira/' he exclaimed, 
 beating the heel of his boot with an ear of maize, 
 " it is only now that I remember that my baggage 
 will follow the road to Leal, and leave me here 
 without my clothes or my remedies. What a 
 nuisance ! We ought to have waited at the turn 
 off of your road." 
 
 The Mineiro, with a broad grin on his homely 
 rubicund face, exclaimed : 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! Is the doctor then such a green- 
 horn at travelling ? Do you think then that I did 
 not leave some notice for your people ? Don't 
 you remember that branch I laid in the middle of 
 the main road, where we left it ? " 
 " Truly I do," replied Cyrino. 
 " Well then. Your men will very soon be on 
 our tracks. Let us enter within, for the hunger 
 is gripping me enough, I can tell you." 
 
 The abode of Pereira consisted of a grass- 
 thatched-roof house, capacious in area but low 
 in height. Under a spacious verandah in 
 front of the house, a wide doorway, bordered on 
 each side by a narrow, unglazcd, but shuttered 
 window, gave access to a spacious front room. 
 The front wall of the house, possibly on account
 
 THE HOME OF THE MINEIRO. 47 
 
 of tlie weiglit of tlie roof^ was sensibly bulged out 
 of the perpendicular, and some longitudinal cracks 
 therein showed that some important repairs were 
 urgently necessary to that structure of sticks and 
 clay. 
 
 On the right side of the house was a big thatched 
 barn the sides of which consisted of a framework 
 holding in place upright bamboos, from the 
 spaces between which issued a constant supply of 
 heads of maize, a supply largely due to the exca- 
 vating operations of the pigs, who were never far 
 away from this porcine paradise. 
 
 The roof of the verandah was thatched with 
 burity-palm leaves and supported by thick stems of 
 bamboos, and, extending along the whole front of 
 the house, constituted a convenient shelter for such 
 guests as on the occasion of some festival might 
 exceed the ordinary accommodation of the hos- 
 pitable habitation. 
 
 The interior of the house comprised two distinct 
 divisions. The front part consisted of one large 
 room, accessible only by the door that led into it 
 from the outer verandah. The rest of the house 
 formed the sanctuary of the family, and, being 
 without any internal communication with the front 
 room, it was completely secluded from the sight 
 and intrusion of strangers. The earthen floor of
 
 48 INNOCENCIA 
 
 the front room showed on it many signs of log-fires, 
 the smoke of wliicli had covered with a thin 
 coating of brown polish the rafters and thatch 
 overhead, making them resemble varnished rose- 
 Avood in coulour. 
 
 " This/' said Pereira on entering the front room 
 and seating himself on a three-legged stool, 
 " belongs to my guests. A few only come this 
 way, but anyhow it is as well to be always pre- 
 pared for them. My own people live in the back 
 part of the house." 
 
 He pointed to the blank wall facing the entrance 
 door of the room, and made a gesture to indicate 
 that the house extended beyond it. 
 
 '' Senhor Pereira,'^ said Cyrino, reclining him- 
 self on a solid wooden couch, " pray do not incon- 
 venience yourself about me in any way whatever. 
 Just imagine that no one is here." 
 
 ''Well then," returned the Mineiro, ''rest your- 
 self a little, while I go inside to hear what news 
 there is. The hour is one for eating rather than 
 for reposing; but meanwhile lie down while you 
 wait, for when one is tired that is a more comfort- 
 able position than sitting or standing." 
 
 The guest did not refuse the invitation. He 
 removed his poncho, pulled off his riding-boots, and 
 doubling them up, he utilised them for a pillow.
 
 THE HOME OF THE MINEIRO. 49 
 
 When one assumes a liorizontal position after 
 many miles o£ riding in Brazil, slumber is the 
 inevitable and speedy sequence. Quickly, there- 
 fore, the eyelids of the young man closed in sleep, 
 and his breast heaved with a peaceful respiration. 
 He had already slept for an hour and a half, and 
 would probably have slept much longer, if he had 
 not been awakened by the noise of the arrival of a 
 troop of animals and ihe cries of men as they 
 unloaded the care'os. 
 
 Senhor Pereira, with a jovial air, appeared at 
 that instant at the doorway, saying : 
 
 " Now then, what did I not tell you, eh ?" 
 " It is a fact ; now I am perfectly contented." 
 "And you have had a pretty long snooze ?" 
 " Yes, an hour perhaps." 
 
 " At least, if not more. All this time I have- 
 been at the bedside of 'Nocencia, who trembled 
 with cold as if she was in Ouro Preto with the- 
 hoar frost in the streets." 
 " Is she no better then ?" 
 
 "■Not at all. When you have eaten something- 
 you shall see her. She is so altered that she looks 
 as if she had been ill for two months." 
 
 " Happily," observed Cyrino, with some petu- 
 lance, " here am I to put her on her feet again." 
 '•' Heaven aid you ! " cried Pereira, with a father's. 
 
 E
 
 50 INNOCENCU. 
 
 anxiety. " Halloa! Wliat lio ! You boys tliere !" 
 he shouted to the two men who had just arrived. 
 " You men can put up in the ranch yonder. You 
 will find water close by, and there is no want of 
 firewood ; all you have to do is to stretch out your 
 hands. Look yon give a full ration to the mules. 
 Make the most of the corn while you can, it is the 
 support of the animal. I sell it cheap, two heads 
 for a copper, and there are no poor weakly grains 
 in them, but all sound, ripe, and big. Halloa 
 there ! Maria Conga, get on with this, put dinner 
 on the table ! " 
 
 The indications of Pereira to the men were duly 
 attended to, and the old negress, answering to the 
 call, proceeded to spread upon the wide, roughly- 
 planed table, a cotton tablecloth, coarse in texture 
 but snowy white in colour ; on it she poured the 
 contents of two gourds of coarsely-pounded maize, 
 and then placed a soup plate of blue earthenware 
 and a metal fork and spoon by its side. 
 
 " Sit down, doctor,^' said Pereira to Cyrino, '' I 
 will not help you to clean up, because I have 
 already had something in the back room. Pardon 
 me if the food is not to your liking." 
 
 At this moment Maria Conga returned with two 
 smoking dishes, one filled with black beans and 
 the other with rice.
 
 THE HOME OF THE MINEIRO. 51 
 
 " And tlie green vegetables ? " inquired Pereira. 
 " Are there none ? " 
 
 " JSTlior-sim " (Sim Senlior), "I will bring them 
 directly," replied the negress, and promptly per- 
 forming another journey, she produced the re- 
 quired additions to the meal. 
 
 The Mineiro again apologised for the insuffi- 
 ciency of quantity and rough preparation of the 
 food. 
 
 " I do not provide you with a loin of pork to-day, 
 but the promise will not be forgotten, of that you 
 can rest assured." 
 
 '^ I am indeed contented with what there is,''^ 
 protested Cyrino, and, by the vigorous way in 
 which he attacked the repast, he evidently spoke 
 with sincerity. 
 
 " Maria," said Pereira to the slave, who^ at some 
 distance from the table, remained standing with 
 folded arms, " bring some of this af ternoon^'s sugar- 
 syrup and coffee with sugar." 
 
 The two things called for being duly produced, 
 Cyrino completed his dinner with visible satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 " Ah ! " he exclaimed, as he stretched his arms, 
 "\ feel now just as compact as an egg. The beans 
 were excellent. Praised be Nosso Senhor Jesus 
 Christo, who has given me these good quarters." 
 
 E 2
 
 52 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " Amen ! " responded Pereira. 
 
 '' NoWj my friend/^ said the young man after a 
 short pause^ '^I am at your orders. Can we see 
 your little invalid ? We may, perhaps, be able to 
 take advantage of the opportunity of an intermis- 
 sion of the fever to attack it promptly. I do not 
 like delays in these cases." 
 
 A slight cloud of gloom stole over the face of 
 the Mineiro ; he frowned somewhat, and an ex- 
 pression of disquietude appeared on his brows. 
 
 " Later on," he said, with some precipitation. 
 
 "Not at all," objected Cyrino. ^^ I tell you 
 that the sooner you attend to it the better it will 
 be." 
 
 " Why are you in such a hurry ? " inquired 
 Pereira suspiciously. 
 
 "IV replied Cyrino, without perceiving the 
 intention ; " I am not so in the least. It is for the 
 good of the young woman." 
 
 The eyes of Pereira flashed with sudden bril- 
 liancy. 
 
 " And how know you that my daughter is a 
 young woman V he exclaimed, with vivacity. 
 
 " Well now, was it not you yourself who told me 
 so on the road V 
 
 " Ah ! truly. She is not yet, however, a young 
 woman. Fourteen — or fifteen years old at the very
 
 THE HOME OF THE MINEIRO. 53 
 
 most. Say fifteen years and a half. Quite a child, 
 you know, poor little tiling !" 
 
 "Well/' replied the youth, "let it be as you 
 like. Whenever you want me, send to fetch me. 
 Meanwhile I will look through my trunks while I 
 wait, and get some remedies, so as to have them 
 ready at hand." 
 
 " Very good," acquiesced Pereira, " put your 
 things in that corner, and you may rest assured 
 nobody will touch them. As to my daughter — I 
 will return directly — er — I will just take a glance 
 inside there — and — er — er — afterwards — well, we 
 will talk about it then."
 
 CHAPTER. Y. 
 
 THE PEECAUTION. 
 
 The sun liad long disappeared and darkness had 
 set in before Pereira returned to Cyrino. 
 
 '' Doctor/' said lie, " now you can come in to 
 see the little one. Her pulse is as soft as cotton 
 yaru^ and she has not the least fever." 
 
 " That is good/' responded Cyrino ; and quickly 
 gathering in his hand the materials he had taken 
 from his trunk, he closed the lid and arose to his 
 feet. 
 
 Before leaving the room, Pereira, with the air 
 of one who had to communicate something serious 
 and at the same time of difficult confession, de- 
 tained his guest. After some moments of hesita- 
 tion he commenced : 
 
 " Senhor Cyrino, I am a man naturally of a very 
 good temper, always ready to serve any one, sociable, 
 outspoken, and frank, as you have very well seen."
 
 THE PRECAUTION. SS 
 
 " Certainly," assented tlie otlier. 
 
 "'Very well, but — er— I am very suspicious. 
 Tlie doctor is about to enter tbe interior of my 
 home, and — I don't know, but — I must ask you 
 to be discreet, and " 
 
 " Ob ! Senbor Pereira ! " interrupted Cyrino, 
 without much surprise, for he was aware of the 
 jealous care with which the men of the Sertao 
 guard their home circles from the gaze of the 
 profane. " I have been received in the bosoms of 
 many families, and I know how to comport myself 
 as I ought to." 
 
 The face of the Mineiro expanded a little. 
 
 "You see," said he, with some diffidence, ''the 
 doctor is truly no barefooted vagabond, but it is 
 always as well to be cautious. And as there is 
 now no other remedy, I will tell you all my secrets. 
 With the favour of God they will shame no one, 
 but generally I do not like my tongue to clatter 
 about my home affairs. Listen. My daughter 
 ^Nocencia completed eighteen years of age last 
 Christmas, and she is a girl who by her appear- 
 ance might well pass for a lady of the cities. She 
 is shy and timid in her manner, it is true, but 
 beautiful as she is good and virtuous. Alas ! poor 
 little thing ! she was brought up motherless and 
 here in these Sertoes. I have another child, a son.
 
 56 INNOCENCU. 
 
 a big fellow, bearded and strong — he is now work- 
 ing on a farm near Rio. Well, tliat's neither here 
 nor there/' continued Pereira, relapsing little by 
 ;little into his habitual garrulity ; " however, when 
 I saw the girl assume the proportions of a woman, 
 I at once set about getting her married " 
 
 '' Ah ! she is married ? " inquired Cyrina. 
 
 " She is, and yet she is not. The thing has 
 been talked about. Hereabouts, there is a well- 
 to-do man who is accustomed to go with the droves 
 •of cattle to S. Paulo — perhaps the Senhor knows 
 him ? — the Manecao Doca." 
 
 "No,'' replied Cyrino, shaking his head. 
 
 " Well, he is a proper man for activity and 
 work. There is no one like him. He rides 
 throughout all these Sertoes, and drives such herds 
 of cattle as would astonish you. They also say 
 that he has lots of bichos of his own, and I believe 
 it, for he is very careful and spends little, and 
 women have little attractions for him. On one 
 occasion, Avhen he was stopping here — there, just 
 imagine, in that very identical spot where you 
 are now standing — I spoke to him about marriage; 
 that is, I gave him some hints, because for 
 the welfare of their little Avomen-folk parents 
 ought to make this their business. Don't you 
 think so ! "
 
 THE PRECAUTION. 57 
 
 " Without doubt/' Cjrino assented, " you have 
 every reason." 
 
 "Well then, at first, Manecao was very doubt- 
 ful, but when I showed him the little one — ah ! 
 then he sung another song altogether. Ah ! but 
 she is a girl ! " 
 
 And Pereira, forgetful of his precautions, ex- 
 pressed his sense of supreme admiration for his 
 daughter by placing the tips of his fingers to his 
 coarse lips and waving a kiss to his companion. 
 
 '• It is true," he continued, " she is now some- 
 what altered, but when she is in health she is, ah ! 
 as rosy as the mangaba of the moorlands. Her 
 hair is long and as fine as silk, a delicate nose, and 
 such killing eyes. You would not think her the 
 daughter of one who is " 
 
 Paternal love carried Pereira beyond prudence 
 to give vent to such praise, and so it seemed to 
 suddenly occur to him, for quickly repressing him- 
 self, he observed, with manifest hesitation : 
 
 "This obligation to get the Avomen married is 
 just the devil! If they do not, you never know 
 what will happen, and yet if they marry they may 
 fall into the hands of some rascally husband. One 
 lives in a glass bottle that any one can crack. 
 Well, my daughter so far has honoured my name. 
 The Manecao will be responsible for her when he
 
 58 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 has lier for liis own. Witli petticoat people you 
 never can rely on anytliing. Cruz ! While the 
 devil rubs an eyelid they will utterly ruin a 
 family/'' 
 
 This injurious sentiment with regard to women 
 is common throughout the Sertao, and brings for 
 immediate and practical consequences the rigorous 
 seclusion in which the}' are maintained, the pre- 
 arranged marriage of children by relatives, and, 
 above all, the numerous crimes committed. Yet, 
 withal, seldom is suspected the possibility of an 
 intrigue between members of a family and a 
 stranger. 
 
 Pereira unfolded all these ideas and strongly 
 applauded the prudence of such preventive 
 measures. 
 
 " I repeat," he said, with choler, " with women 
 you never know where you are. Our forefathers 
 of the olden time did well. Then, the young 
 women had to walk as straight as a spindle. The 
 slightest suspicion of a side glance, and, pah ! 
 down came the stick. Why, they say now, that 
 up in the cities — Uumph ! Detestable ! — there 
 is no girl, no matter how poor she is, who does not 
 know how to read and scratch a pen on paper — that 
 they are allowed to go to public parties with low- 
 neck dresses, and that they dance, speak in loud
 
 THE PRECAUTION. 59 
 
 voices, and sliow tlieir teetL. to any fashionable 
 ruffian. Cruz ! That is altogether too much. 
 Don't ill-treat the poor little things, say I, but it is 
 not necessary to give wings to ants. When they 
 get stalky, let a festival be arranged to marry them 
 to some decent fellow or some cousin, and have 
 done at once with the bother. Also," he added, 
 as he pulled down the lower eyelid of his right eye 
 with his forefinger, " caution, keep your eyes open, 
 and don't be beguiled by those who come and try 
 to please you with too, too flattering ways. My 
 daughter " 
 
 Pereira now completely altered his tone. 
 
 " Ah ! Poor little thing ! From her, no harm 
 can come. She is a little dove from Heaven. So 
 . good, so lovable ! Is she a witch ? I can do 
 nothing with her. Only when I think of handing 
 her over to a man, the thought quite upsets me. 
 It is, however, necessary. Years ago — I ought to 
 have acted in this matter — but I don't know — 
 every time I think of it my soul sinks to my feet. 
 She is also a girl not brought up as others are. 
 Ah ! Senhor Cyrino, these children are parts of 
 one's heart that one has to tear from his body to 
 let wander in this world of Christo." 
 
 A tear-drop glistened in the father's eyes. 
 
 " My son is living. Heaven only knows where !
 
 6o INNOCENCIA. 
 
 If I Avere to die this instant, tlie little one would be 
 left in complete abandonment. Yes, it is indeed 
 necessary to finish this uncertainty. Besides, 
 Manecao promised to leave her hero at home, and 
 in that way all will be arranged — that is, remedied 
 — for a married daughter no longer belongs to her 
 father.'' 
 
 There ensued a moment of silence. 
 
 " Now," continued Pereira, with a certain re- 
 straint, 'Hhat I have told you all, I ask you one 
 thing. See only the invalid, and do not look for 
 ''Nocencia, I have spoken with you thus, for it 
 was my duty. No one man, except the closest 
 relations of this, your servant, has placed a foot in 
 my daughter's room — this I will swear — only in 
 cases like this of extreme necessity '•* 
 
 Cyrino here somewhat impatiently interrupted 
 the observation of his host. '^Senhor Pereira, 
 I have already told, and again I tell you, that, 
 as a medical man, I am accustomed to mix with 
 families and to respect them. That is my duty, 
 and until now, gracas a Dens, my reputation has 
 been, and is, good. About women, I hold not your 
 opinions, neither do I consider them reasonable. 
 However, it is useless for us to discuss them, as I 
 well know that yours Averc long ago confirmed, 
 and what is born crooked, only very late, perhaps
 
 THE PRECAUTION. 6i 
 
 never, will become straight. Do not misunder- 
 stand my words. You spoke to me witli frankness, 
 I also witli frankness wish to respond. In my 
 opinion, women are as good as us, although they 
 are women ; it is therefore not right to discredit 
 them so much, and make so much of men. Well, 
 these ideas of yours may serve you well, but it is 
 an old custom of mine to contradict no one, so that 
 I may live in peace with others, and merit the 
 treatment from them which I have a right to 
 expect. Let every one take care of himself; God 
 watches over all, and no one wishes to be the 
 ferule of the world."" 
 
 This profession of faith, uttered in a superior 
 and quasi-dogmatical tone of voice, appeared to 
 create some degree of impression upon Pereira, 
 who applauded it with an expressive movement 
 of the head as though he appreciated the conceits 
 and fluency of the phrases.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 After giving his explanations to Cyrino^ tlie 
 Mineiro experienced a greater degree of confi- 
 dence in his medical adviser, and consequently 
 was more at ease in his mind. 
 
 "'Then," said he, "^if you like, let us go at 
 once and see our little invalid." 
 
 ''"With much pleasure/' Cyrino promptly re- 
 plied, and leaving the room he accompanied 
 Pereira, who proceeded by a roundabout way 
 towards the back door of the house, and in order 
 to do so he had to pass through two fences that 
 shut off the rear portion of the premises from the 
 front. Facing the back of the house an orchard 
 of magnificent orange- trees, all heavily laden Avith 
 bloom, perfumed the atmosphere with the scent 
 of the white and odorous blossoms.
 
 INNOCENCU. 63 
 
 " This place/' said the Mineiro, pointing to- 
 wards the orchard, " is frequented every day by 
 great numbers of blackbirds. 'Nocencia loves to 
 hear the music of their songs, and her favoui'ite 
 place to do her sewing is to sit out here under 
 the trees. Ah ! She is a girl " 
 
 Stopping for a moment on the threshold of the 
 door, while a beaming expression of joy gleamed 
 over his rubicund face, he continued : 
 
 ^^ You cannot imagine — sometimes that child 
 will ask such questions that quite knock me over. 
 We have a book in the house — one of the time of 
 my defunct grandfather — well, would you believe 
 it, if she didn''t actually ask me to teach her to 
 read ! What an idea ! Eh ? Then again, a short time 
 ago she told me that she wished she had been born 
 a princess. I replied to her, ' But do you know 
 what it is to be a princess ? ' ^ I know,' she said, 
 quite calmly ; ' a young woman who is very good 
 and yery beautiful, who wears a crown of dia- 
 monds on her head, many jewels round her throat, 
 and who governs all the men.* I felt quite stag- 
 gered. But if you could only see the way she has 
 with the little bichos (birds and animals), you 
 would think that she was talking to them, and 
 that they understood her. Any kind of animal on 
 approaching the feet of 'Nocencia becomes as
 
 64 INNOCENCU. 
 
 lame and docile as a neAvly-boru calf. All, if 
 I were to tell you all tlie stories about tliis gii'l 
 I sliould never stop ! Let us enter ; that is 
 better.-' 
 
 Wlien Cyrino entered the slcejDing-room of the 
 daughter of the Mineiro, it ^vas so dark that at his 
 first glance about him ho could only vaguely dis- 
 tinguish the forms of various pieces of old-fash- 
 ioned furniture and a large bedstead occupying a 
 corner of the room, and on -which some person 
 reposed. 
 
 Pereira called aloud for a light. The old negress 
 Maria appeared with a candle, when both men 
 approached the side of the bed of the invalid, 
 who, hastily drawing over herself a thick coverlet 
 of Minas cotton, turned her gaze towards the new- 
 comers. 
 
 " Here is the doctor,^' said Pereira to her, 
 '' who has come to cure thee, little one.'' 
 
 " Good evening. Dona,'' saluted Cyrino. 
 
 A gentle, timid voice murmured some unintelli- 
 gible reply, and the medical adviser, seating him- 
 self on a stool by the bedside, proceeded to exa- 
 mine the pulse of the invalid. 
 
 Despite the pallor of illness and the dim, 
 flickering light of the candle, now placed on a 
 bracket agair^st the wall above her, it was easily
 
 INNOCENCIA. 65 
 
 seen that Innocencia was really dazzlingly^ be- 
 wild eringly beautiful. Her face was Madonna- 
 like in its form and sweet expression — such an one- 
 as the old masters loved to depict for their saints 
 and Virgin Maries. It was grave and expressive, 
 but without their sadness, and perfect in its oval 
 outline ; her brow, white, broad, and open ; her 
 eyebrows, long and pencilled, while the large, 
 half-closed eyelids were fringed with lashes so 
 long that they shadowed the graceful contour of 
 her cheeks. Her nose was delicate in form and 
 slightly aquiline, and the pearly gleams of her 
 teeth were revealed by the partly-open lips of the 
 beautiful little mouth. From under the sheet of 
 cotton, which envelojDed her head like a hood, a 
 few massive locks of raven-black hair here and 
 there strayed in luxurious abandonment. As she 
 withdrew her arm from under the coverings, the 
 embroidered garment in which she was clad be- 
 came disarranged, and exposed to view a glimpse 
 of a neck of alabaster whiteness. 
 
 Abundant reason therefore had Cyrino to sud- 
 denly feel his hand become cold and somewhat 
 tremulous as he endeavoured to examine the 
 pulse of so gentle a patient. 
 
 " Well, then ? '' inquired the father. 
 There is not the least fever now,''^ the youth 
 
 p 
 
 Cl
 
 66 INNOCENCU. 
 
 replied, but witli liis eyes riveted in manifest 
 surprise upon tlie face of Innocencia. 
 
 ^' And what is to be done ? " 
 
 " To take at once a sudorific of an infusion of 
 the leaves of tlie bitter orange, and see if we can 
 establish a free transpiration; then at midnight 
 you must call me, and I will give the Dona a dose 
 of quinine." 
 
 The young woman raised her eyes and gazed 
 attentively at Cyrino as she listened to the direc- 
 tions which should restore her to health. 
 
 '' She has not the least appetite," observed the 
 father; ''for nearly three days she has lived only 
 on liquids, and the fever is so constant that it does 
 not look like ague." 
 
 ''Never mind,''^ replied the young man. "To- 
 morrow the fever will leave her, and a week hence 
 your daughter will be on her feet for certain. It 
 is I who guarantee it." 
 
 " Deus speaks with your tongue," cried Pcreira 
 joyously. 
 
 " Her colour will soon return," continued 
 Cyrino. 
 
 Innocencia flushed slightly and turned her face 
 to the pillow. 
 
 " Why do you fold this sheet about you ? " the
 
 INNOCENCU. 67 
 
 young man inquired, as lie pointed to lier Avrapped- 
 up head. 
 
 " For nothing/' slie timidly replied. 
 
 " Do you feel any headache ? "" 
 
 "Nhor-nao'' (No, sir). 
 
 '^ Well, then, remove the wrapper. It is always 
 well to keep the head cool, and also unplait your 
 hair ; let it be all loose.'"' 
 
 Pereira carried out the directions, and soon the 
 pale face of the invalid was framed in a sweeping 
 mass of luxuriant hair, black as the heart of the 
 cabiuna-tree, and so long that it would have 
 reached to below her waist. It had been braided 
 in plaits which twice encircled her head. 
 
 " It is also necessary," continued Cyrino, " to 
 have the room well aired day and night, and to 
 place the bed in a line with the east and west." 
 
 " I will have it turned to-morrow," said the 
 Mineiro. 
 
 " Good; but to-day then, or, better still, at once, 
 let her have the sudorific, and, for the present, 
 close up all the doors and windows. At midnight, 
 more or less, I will come and give the medicine. 
 Calm your spirit. Dona, and pray two Ave-Marias 
 in order that the quinine may have its due effect." 
 , " Nhur-sim " (Yes, sir), lisped the invalid. 
 
 P2
 
 68 INNOCENCU. 
 
 '' The light does not pain yonr eyes ? " inquired 
 Cj^rino^ approaching her to steal one more glance 
 at her face. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " That is a good sign. I believe that the attack 
 will soon prove to be nothing serious/' and saluthig 
 his patient by saying, '^ Until soon^ little lady/' he 
 turned to Pereira and signified his readiness to 
 depart. 
 
 The latter beckoned to some one in a dark cor- 
 ner of the room. '' Tico/' cried he^ " come here." 
 
 At the call, there came forward a curious speci- 
 men of humanity in the form of a little shrivelled- 
 up dwarf. Although his brow was furrowed with 
 rugged wrinkles like those of an old man, the 
 gleam of the bright eyes and the black hair showed 
 that his age was not very far advanced. His little 
 legs, somewhat bowed, terminated in great broad 
 feet, which, without any serious alteration, might 
 easily serve for those of some web-footed bird. 
 
 This singular being was clad in a dark smock 
 and trousers, the latter evidently having been built 
 for an ordinary person, for tlic extremities had to 
 be turned up, and so formed very voluminous rolls 
 around his ancles. A roofless hat of palmito straw 
 covered, or rather encircled, his head, and allowed a 
 mass of tangled and knotted locks of hair to be seen.
 
 INNOCENCIJ. 69 
 
 '' Ho ! lio ! " exclaimed Cyrino, on seeing tliis 
 object enter within tlie rays of liglit. " Truly tliis 
 is only a part of somebody." 
 
 "'Now, don-'t you ridicule my AntoniO;" replied 
 Pereira witli a smile. '^ He is small, it is true, 
 but wbat there is of liim is good. Is not that so, 
 my manikin V 
 
 The little man grinned, and showed rows of 
 white pointed teeth,* but the effect was more allied 
 to a grimace than to a smile ; at the same time he 
 bestowed upon Cyrino an inquisitive and pene- 
 trating glance. 
 
 " You must know, doctor," continued Pereira, 
 " that this creature hears perfectly everything 
 that is said. He understands all, but cannot 
 speak, that is, he can pronounce one or two words, 
 but at considerable trouble, and the effort makes 
 him nearly burst with rage. When he attempts 
 to explain something, it is just a gabble of six 
 hundred sounds, and amidst all the hub-hub you 
 can only now and then distinguish some little 
 Christian word. 
 
 " Why do you not cut his tongue ? " observed 
 Cyrino. 
 
 * It is customary -with some of the lower classes of Brazilian 
 peasants to file their teeth, making them pointed. The fashion is 
 derived from the aboriginal natives of the countrv. (Note, Transl.)
 
 70 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 "■ Because tliere is none to cut," retorted 
 Pereira. " He was born without any. But he is 
 a little devil wlio runs all over tliis Sertao from 
 end to end, and at any liour of tlie day or night. 
 Is not that the truth, Tico ? " 
 
 The dwarf nodded his head, and glanced with 
 an air of complacency at Cyrino. 
 
 "■ But is he a son of any of your people here •? " 
 " Nao, Senhor. His mother lives on the banks 
 of the Rio Sucuriu, about a hundred and sixty 
 miles from here, and he trots backwards and 
 forwards from there to here in an instant, stopping 
 awhile at the houses on the way, where every one 
 knows him and receives him with pleasure, for 
 he is a little bicho who would harm no one. He 
 remains here two, three, or more weeks, and 
 then will disappear as suddenly as a startled 
 woodland deer, and return to the home of his 
 mother. He is a sort of little dog for 'Nocencia. 
 Is it not so, Tico ? " 
 
 The mute made an affirmative sign, and as he 
 pointed towards the young woman an expression 
 of delight spread over the queer face. 
 
 Pereira, after giving all theso explanations, 
 which the dwarf appeared to receive with satis- 
 faction, observed, as he turned towards, or rather 
 stooped over him :
 
 INNOCENCIA. 71 
 
 " Go you to tlie big ' curral,' and gather me a 
 large handful of leaves of tlie bitter orange — tbose 
 from tlae tree close to the gate." 
 
 The little man showed by expressive gestures 
 that he understood^ and went away running. 
 
 Cyrino was about leaving the room, though not 
 without casting a last lingering glance at the place 
 where reposed the invalid, when Pereira called 
 him. 
 
 ''■ Oh, doctor, 'Nocencia wants some Avater, will 
 it do her any harm ? ' ' 
 
 " Have you any sweet limes here?" he inquired. 
 
 '^ No end of them, and of the best." 
 
 " Then let your daughter have as many as she 
 cares for." 
 
 Pereira, having comfortably arranged the cover- 
 ings of the girl, then joined Cyrino, who had 
 stopped at the doorway to glance at the first stars 
 of the night. 
 
 " Do you think, doctor," inquired the Mineiro, 
 in a somewhat tremulous voice, "there is any 
 danafer from what that little angel suffers ? " 
 
 "None, absolutely none," responded Cyrino. 
 " You will see that two days hence your daugh- 
 ter will have nothing the matter with her." 
 
 "These fevers are cruel things. When they 
 do not knock over a Christian, they often make
 
 72 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 him miserable for entire years. I do not wisli my 
 •daughter to become pallid nor ugly^ for when 
 young women are ill they are not attractive. Ah ! 
 I was forofettino-— the sweet limes are wanted." 
 Pereira stepped out into the yard, and placing his 
 hands to his mouth, called in a loud voice, " Oh ! 
 Tico ! " 
 
 A prolonged cry responded at some distance. 
 
 The Mineiro uttered a modulated whistle, an 
 Indian method of signalling, and then called for 
 the limes. 
 
 There ensued a few moments of silence, after 
 which the dwarf appeared running, and, approach- 
 ing Pereiro, he showed by signs that he had not 
 well heard the message. 
 
 " Some sweet limes immediately ! 'Nocencia 
 is thirsty.''^ 
 
 The dwarf flew away like an arrow, and quickly 
 disappeared amidst the dark shadows of the orange- 
 trees.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE NATUiSalIST. 
 
 Night stole onwards, serene and binlliant. Innu- 
 merable stars scintillated with radiant gleams in 
 the pure dark blue vault of the heavens, and 
 spread over the wide ribbon of the Sertao road a 
 soft and mystical clearness. 
 
 By the position of the stars it should be nearly 
 midnight ; nevertheless, at that dead hour — when 
 onlv the wild animals of the desert wander in 
 search of their food — two men were seen slowly 
 wending their way along the main road, one on 
 foot and the other w^as mounted on a lean and 
 travel-worn mule. 
 
 The pedestrian appeared to be an attendant, 
 for, with a formidable thick staif in hand, he was 
 driving before him a long-eared baggage mule, 
 laden with a pile of boxes and trunks.
 
 74 INNOCENCU. 
 
 The mounted traveller, witli his body " all of a 
 lieap/^ liis legs extended, his feet stuck out, and 
 his head drooping upon his chest, seemed to be 
 buried in sleep or in some profound cogitation. 
 A tall and slender man, he had a round face, very 
 prominent " gooseberry or goggle " eyes, a small 
 retrousee nose, and tawny hair, beard, and mous- 
 tache. His outward garments were those usuallj^ 
 worn by travellers in Brazil, viz., buff leather top- 
 boots, a loose cotton coat, and a broad-brimmed 
 Chili straw hat with the brim turned down. But 
 in addition to these common -place necessaries, he 
 carried, suspended to a belt slung across his chest, 
 some four or five little cases of glasses or special 
 instruments of some kind, and in his hand a 
 slender rod with a sack of thin rose-coloured 
 gauze at one end. 
 
 The attendant, a middle-aged mulatto, ordinary 
 and stupid in physiognomy, seemed, by the impa- 
 tient way in which he alternately abused and 
 thrashed his pack animal, to be by no means 
 contented with the circumstances under which we 
 have made his acquaintance. 
 
 The little troop proceeded on its way in the 
 order that we have indicated, the loaded mule in 
 front followed closely by the irritable driver, and
 
 THE NATURALIST. 75 
 
 finally by the absorbed or drowsy traveller on tlie 
 lean and hungry steed. 
 
 At last, there haj)pened an occasion when, in 
 spite of strong and forcible expressions of language 
 from the driver, the baggage mule appeared to 
 wish to lodge a formal protest against the treat- 
 ment that, so much beyond his customary hours 
 of work, he now received, and firmly planting his 
 hoofs in the sand he suddenly refused to proceed. 
 This reluctance to further movement provoked a 
 perfect shower of blows, the sounds of which, 
 mino-led with the cries of the attendant, echoed 
 far away.* 
 
 During: some few moments the rider, who had 
 now halted his mule, waited patiently, hoping 
 that the pack animal would be convinced of its 
 folly and proceed on its way. 
 
 " Juque," at last he said in broken Portuguese, 
 
 * The translator cannot very well put into equivalent English the 
 Portuguese Billingsgate of the driver— it would be too "shocking." 
 Suffice it to say, that the mule was declared to be the personal property 
 of his Satanic Majesty; that a thousand rays of lightnings might 
 strike the animal with their full effect, was fervently desired ; it 
 was asserted that the poor animal would be irretrievably condemned 
 to eternal punishment; and, finally, it was earnestly requested 
 that the animal might suddenly be exploded by some unseen 
 power.
 
 76 INNOCENCU. 
 
 and with a strong guttural accent wliicli denoted 
 his Teutonic origin, '' if a cudgelling falls on your 
 back like that, you love it, eh ?" 
 
 The man, to whom had been given the name of 
 Jiique, a familiar corruption of Jose, turned hastily 
 to the speaker, and shouted : 
 
 " Look you, Mochu, this is a bicho without any 
 shame, and ought to die under a cudgel. This 
 life does not suit me, I '' 
 
 " But, Juque," replied the German, with unalter- 
 able calmness, 'Svho knows but what the cargo is 
 wounding the poor creature ?" 
 
 '' Nonsense," cried out the man. '' It is only 
 the obstinacy of the beast. I know this old good- 
 for-nothing," and, raising his staif, he delivered 
 such a terrific blow on the hind-quarters of the 
 animal, that it snorted with pain. 
 
 " Jiique," observed the other, in the same 
 monotone of voice, '' who knows but what in front 
 of liim there is some fallen tree or a rock that 
 will not allow him to go on ? " 
 
 ''Rock, Mochu? A hammering on the head 
 until it splits is what this thief wants." 
 
 " See, Juquc," insisted ihe German. 
 
 '' Oh, Mochu ! " 
 
 '' Still, see."
 
 THE NATURALIST. 77 
 
 The man went grumbling from beliind liis 
 animal. 
 
 In front of it lie soon clianced. to tread upon the 
 broken branch that Pereira had placed on the 
 ground as a signal to the attendants of Cyrino to 
 there leave the main road. 
 
 " Wall ! " he exclaimed, in great surprise, " some 
 one has been here and made a sign not to go on 
 ahead." 
 
 " Did I not tell you," replied the horseman, in 
 a somewhat triumphant voice. " Donkeys have 
 reason; there must be some obstacle further on." 
 
 ^' But in the town/' contested Jose, "■ did they 
 not say that the road always leads straight on 
 without any one interruption ? " 
 
 " They said that in the town," confirmed the 
 other. 
 
 "Well then?" 
 
 " Well then ?" retorted the German. 
 
 Some seconds of silence ensued, presently broken 
 by the horseman observing with the same imper- 
 turbable serenity, and as though he was finding 
 an explanation extremely natural : 
 
 " In the town many people not know road, 
 
 and " 
 
 " May a thousand millions of diabos," interrupted
 
 78 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 / 
 
 the man and sliouting aloud, "seize those who 
 have the liking to thus wander through these 
 woods of inferno for so many wasted hours ! 
 True enough said I to Mochu, 'Nobody travels 
 like this.' This is a real calamity^ a plague." 
 
 " Jiique/' interrupted the master in his turn, 
 ^•'is to howl like a condemned soul the way to get 
 ahead ? Rather, look you, and see if about here 
 there is not some by-road." 
 
 The other obeyed, and without difficulty found 
 the lane leading to the abode of Pereira. 
 
 "Here it is, Mochu. Here it is," he joyfully 
 announced. '• Here is a trail that leaves the road 
 and leads to some house close by." Suddenly 
 altering his tone he observed in a sad voice, "Close 
 by ! It may be a good league before wc get 
 there." 
 
 " Ah ! I no toll you !" responded the G-erman. 
 " Now drive the mule slowly, for he will go like 
 the wind." 
 
 And really the poor mule seemed to be quite 
 gratified with the victory its animal intelligence 
 had obtained, for it proceeded along the new route 
 with vigorous paces. 
 
 The true reason of its satisfaction was, that it 
 had been so long a time since the poor beast had
 
 THE NATURALIST. 79 
 
 quenclied its thirsty tliat^ obstinate and crafty as 
 are usually tliose of its species, its keen senses had 
 been irresistibly attracted by tlie scent and sound 
 of tbe rippling water of tbe stream wliere the 
 animals of Oyrino and Pereira had refreshed 
 themselves.
 
 CHAPTER A^III. 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT GUESTS. 
 
 .It was not very long before tlie two nocturnal 
 travellers heard tlie furious barking of tlie dogs on 
 the premises of Pereira^ announcing the approach 
 of some one to the house under their care. 
 
 " Some ranch is close by, Mochu/' observed the 
 attendant ; " at last, we shall rest to-day. But 
 what a noise the dogs make ! They are capable of 
 swallowing us alive while some one comes to see 
 who we are. Safa ! What a row ! Oh, I say, 
 Mochu, you ought to go on in front, and lead the 
 way." 
 
 " You," responded the German, '' go and beat 
 them with your staff." 
 
 " Not if I know it," retorted Jose, with energy. 
 " That is not in the agreement. Who is mounted 
 should go in front, now above all. Well ! avcII !
 
 THE MIDNIGHT GUESTS. 8i 
 
 wliat iiext^ I wonder ?^' After muttering to liira- 
 self for a moment, lie suddenly exclaimed, " All ! 
 wait, I have just tliougLt of something. The son 
 of the old 'un is useful after all." And saying 
 these words, he at once sprang on to the back 
 of the mule, which, on feeling that unexpected 
 addition to its load, halted for some seconds, and, 
 with a dull neigh, endeavoured to enter a protest. 
 
 '^ Juque," observed the German, and, without 
 the slightest alteration in his voice, "" like that, 
 the mule break him back, then he die, and you 
 have to carry the cargo on your shoulders.'^ 
 
 The man intended to open a discussion on the 
 subject, but by this time they had arrived in front 
 of the house, where the furious onslaught of the 
 dogs justified the precautionary measures of Jose, 
 who, safely curled up behind the baggage, com- 
 menced to cry out like one possessed. 
 
 " Oh ! House there ! Eh ! Halloa there ! Some- 
 body ! Halloa! friends!" 
 
 This caused the dogs to bark and yelp even 
 more furiously, so much so that Cyrino's men in 
 the ranch close by awakened and drew together, 
 saying : 
 
 " What the diabo is this ? Have we a visit of 
 Lobishomens ?" (mythical wolf-men). 
 
 At this moment the door of the house opened, 
 
 G
 
 82 INNOCENCU. 
 
 and Cyrino appeared followed by Pereira, wlio 
 with his right hand sheltered a candle from the 
 uight breeze. 
 
 " Who comes here ?" clamoured both at the 
 same time. 
 
 " A friend and traveller," responded the German, 
 in a strong and sympathetic voice as he approached 
 the light and prepared to dismount. "Is the 
 Senhor the master of this house ?" he inquired. 
 
 " He himself is here/' responded Pereira, raising 
 the candle above his head in order to throw a 
 better light about him. 
 
 "Very well/' replied the new arrival. '^ I wish 
 for a lodging for myself and my servant, but I 
 must ask pardon for arriving so late." 
 
 Jose approached also, and at once prepared to 
 unload the mule. 
 
 '^ But," observed Cyrino, '' what is the Senhor 
 doing travelling at this hour of the night V 
 
 " Let the man enter,'' interrupted Pereira, '" he 
 will explain as he finds convenieut. Anyhow, men 
 Senhor, dismount. Welcome, whoever comes under 
 the roof that is mine." 
 
 " Thank you, thank you ! " exclaimed the stranger 
 effusively, and, tendering a huge hand, he grasped 
 those of Cyrino and Pereira so vigorously that the 
 bones of their fingers audibly crackled.
 
 THE MIDNIGHT GUESTS. 83 
 
 On entering the room lie^ amidst the looks of 
 surprise of those about him, at once proceeded to 
 remove from his breast the belt and its appendages, 
 and to methodically arrange them on the table. 
 
 And truly, that queer figure with the "goggle 
 eyes/' as seen by the flickering light of the candle, 
 was Avell worthy of observation. His legs and 
 arms were very long, his body as correspondingly 
 short, and his hair was so fair that it was nearly 
 white. 
 
 " Is it some wizard ? " Cyrino whispered to 
 Pereira. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " promptly responded the latter. '' A 
 man so pretty, so well dressed ? " 
 
 At this moment Jose entered the room with a 
 trunk on his shoulder, and after depositing it in 
 the least dark corner of the room, he considered it 
 his duty to define, without further delay, the quality 
 and importance of the person whom he served as 
 master. 
 
 " This Senhor,"" said he, addressing Cyrino and 
 pointing to the German, "'is a doctor." 
 
 "Doctor?" exclaimed Cyrino contemptuously. 
 
 "Yes, but not one to cure illnesses. He is a 
 German, from foreign parts, and has come all the 
 way from the city of S. Sebastian of Eio de Janeiro 
 to hunt insects and spike butterflies." 
 
 g2
 
 84 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " Butterflies?" interrupted Pereira,witli surprise. 
 
 " Exactly so, all tlie way he lias been catcliing 
 
 little bichos. Look you ! Tliat sack tliere that we 
 
 bring " 
 
 '•' My attendant is a great talker," tlie naturalist 
 tranquilly and slowly observed. " Senhor, pray 
 have a little patience with him. Go away, Juque, 
 and cease thy chatter." 
 
 " No," protested Pereira, prompted by feelings of 
 curiosity. " It is as well to know with whom we 
 treat. Then the Senhor comes here to kill insects ? 
 But whatever for ? Virgem Santissima ! " 
 
 " What for ? " retorted the attendant, resting 
 his hands in his waist belt. " The patron and I 
 have already sent to his country more than ten 
 great boxes crammed full." 
 
 -' What is the Senhor called ?" asked Pereira, 
 addressing the German, who meanwhile had faced 
 ■the wall to contemplate a huge dark-coloured moth 
 he held in his hand. 
 
 ^' Jiique," said he, without attending to the in- 
 terrogation, " give me a pin, quickly ; one of the 
 big ones." 
 
 With a glance of importance Jose whispered to 
 Cyrino, " Ha ! ha ! AVe have some stories to tell. 
 You shall see soon." 
 
 The naturalist, in possession of the pin, drove it,
 
 THE MIDNIGHT GUESTS. 85 
 
 with a steady and practised hand, through the 
 body of the insect, which thereupon commenced to 
 convulsively flap its wings and spin round its pivot. 
 
 " The cork ! the cork ! " the patron clamoured. 
 ''Quick, Juque." 
 
 Jose satisfied the request after opening a small 
 case, where twenty or thirty beautiful insects were 
 already pinned in rows. 
 
 " It is a ' Saturnia/ and not very common," 
 murmured the German, as he pinned his specimen 
 with the others, and dropped on it a little chloro- 
 form from a small flask he carried in one of the 
 many pockets of his jacket. 
 
 " The Senhor is a travelling zoologist, is he not?" 
 inquired Cyrino after watching the operation. 
 
 The German raised his head with surprise at the 
 question, and responded with a pleased expression : 
 
 " Sim, Senhor ! Sim, Senhor ! How is it that 
 you knew ? Travelling zoologist ! Sim, Senhor. 
 1 see that you are a well-informed man. Very 
 good, very good !" 
 
 " Ah ! He also is a doctor," said Pereira, with 
 a certain pride at having in his house a guest of 
 such a scientific calibre. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! Doctor ? Doctor ? Very good, 
 very good. A doctor who cures, no ? " 
 
 " Sim, Senhor," Cyrino responded gravely.
 
 86 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 " All ! ah ! very good." 
 
 Pereira, however, returned to the charge. "But 
 tell rae, Senhor, how are you called ?" 
 
 ' ' May er/^ returned the German. " Your servant." 
 
 " Maia ?" inquired the Mineiro. 
 
 " No, Meyer. I am from Saxony, in G-ermany." 
 
 '^ Ah ! That is probably the same as Maia in 
 his country," observed Pereira, lowering his voice. 
 
 The attendant Jose, without the least ceremony, 
 now joined in the conversation. " This Mochu," 
 said he, " comes here from far away in foreign 
 parts, all for the sake of these butterflies, and he 
 earns a lump of money in the business, I " 
 
 " Jiique," interrupted his master, " go and put 
 the animals in the pasture." 
 
 " No," said Pereira, " leave them loose in the 
 yard until daybreak, there are enough heads of 
 corn lying about there to keep them occupied for 
 some time." 
 
 " Well, that is what I have done," replied the 
 man. " I am a Carioca * of Rio de Janeiro, my 
 name is Jose Pinho, and I accompany this German, 
 who is a very good sort of man." 
 
 " Eeally ? " said Pereira, gazing with interest 
 at Meyer, who, nodding his head and glaring 
 
 * Carioca is a term applied to a native of Rio de Janeiro. — 
 [Transl.]
 
 THE MIDNIGHT GUESTS. 87 
 
 with liis protuberant eyes, confirmed tlie state- 
 ment of liis man by uttering a deep and guttu.ral 
 affirmative wliicli eclioed tbroughout tlie room. 
 
 " There is one thing about him, however, con- 
 tinued Jose, '' and that is, he is obstinate as a 
 mule. As I am always telling the Mochu, this 
 habit of his of travelling at night is a stupid and 
 useless fatigue ; and a poor beggar like me has to 
 trot along in the dark like a ghost from the other 
 world. But there, he only says that is the best 
 way to travel. Cruz ! " 
 
 " Now, Senhor Maia," said Pereira, '''just make 
 yourself at home in this room as if it were your 
 
 own. If you want a hammock " 
 
 " Much obliged, much obliged, but my trunks 
 serve me for a bed, so pray do not trouble your- 
 self." 
 
 " Then to-morrow we will have a chat,^'' con- 
 cluded Pereira, contentedly rubbing his hands at 
 the prospect of enjoying his chief diversion. And 
 really, the company promised him some fine 
 opportunities for his volubility, especially with 
 Jose Pinho, a son of the metropolis, Rio de Janeiro, 
 and Avho appeared to be a talker of rare power. 
 
 '' Well then,"' said Pereira, opening the door to 
 retire, " I hope you will all sleep well for the rest 
 of the night. Wah!" he exclaimed, on glancing
 
 88 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 at tlie sky. " Doctor, it lias already passed mid- 
 niglit, the Soutliern Cross is already on its side." 
 
 CyrinOj wlio meanwliile liad returned to his 
 wooden couch, immediately sprang to his feet, 
 and, hastily drawing on his boots, took from 
 the table some small packets he had prepared 
 beforehand. 
 
 *' Never mind," said he, '^ I have everything 
 ready, and we will administer the remedy at once. 
 Go and have some coffee ready in a cup, and 
 awaken your daughter if she is asleep, as she 
 probably is from the effects of the sudorific.'^ 
 
 Pereira, with the candle in his hand, went his 
 way accompanied by Cyrino, and, as before, they 
 made the circuit of the house in order to reach the 
 door giving access to the quarters of the family. 
 
 The German and his man were thus left in com- 
 plete darkness, both, however, already reposing, 
 one on his trunks with a small portmanteau for a 
 pillow, the other on the mule's girths spread open 
 on the floor. 
 
 " Oh ! Mochu," inquired Jose, with his mouth 
 full of something, '' are you already shod ?" 
 
 " Shod V replied Meyer. " Now, what do you 
 mean ?" 
 
 '' I asked if you had already nailed the sleep." 
 
 " Well, Juque, if I talk how can I be asleep ? "
 
 THE MIDNIGHT GUESTS. 89 
 
 " I say, wouldn't you like to munch a bit ?" 
 
 "What? To eat?" 
 
 " Of course/' 
 
 " Oh ! Exactly what I was just thinking about." 
 
 "Well, I am grinding away you see. Would 
 you like some ?" 
 
 '' What can you give me ? " 
 
 "Eapadura* and crushed maize. It is first- 
 rate, I can tell you."" 
 
 " Then, Jiique, pass me a mouthful." 
 
 The man willingly arose, and, groping in the 
 dark for the figure of his master, and after knock- 
 ing against the table and tumbling over various 
 objects with which the floor was strewed, ho 
 finally succeeded in encountering one of the feet 
 of his "■ patrao," to whom he delivered a paper 
 full of the crushed maize and a piece of the coarse 
 sugar — a light supper which was soon partaken of 
 with satisfaction by the good man from Saxony. 
 
 * Kapaclura, a compressed block of coarse brown sugar.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE EEMEDY. 
 
 Innocencia was already awake wlien Cyrino entered 
 her room. The father seated himself by the head 
 of the bed, while at his feet Tico^ the dwarf, 
 reclined on the skin of a hnge jaguar. 
 
 " Well/' inquired the doctor, as he felt the pulse 
 of the invalid, '^ how do you feel now ? " 
 " Better," she responded. 
 
 ''Very well. It is very satisfactory that the 
 Dona is so tranquil. This ague is nothing at all 
 when it is attacked early and has had no time to 
 affect the blood. But when it gets a good hold of 
 one, not even the demonio himself can do any- 
 thing with it. Where is the coffee ? " 
 
 " It will be here directly,^' replied Pereira, 
 '' Stay, I will go and fetch it myself. That Maria 
 Conga is quite turning into a sloth. Come and 
 sit here and wait for me an instant."
 
 THE REMEDY. 91 
 
 Rising from tlie stool^ and before leaving the 
 Toom^ lie made Cyrino occupy the vacant seat. 
 The young man thus again found himself placed 
 by the side of the young woman^ on whose delicate 
 features the flickering rays of the candle shed 
 a soft light. The doctor contemplated his patient 
 with an expression so evidently charged with 
 tender admiration and even rapture, that the 
 restless eyes of the dwarf sparkled even in the ob- 
 scurity with a truly malevolent gleam. 
 
 The head of Innocencia reposed on the pillow, 
 and, to still the heart's flutter that she experienced 
 on finding herself the object of such close obser- 
 vation, she feigned to sleep. The beautiful eye- 
 lids at least were closed, but her heart beat tumul- 
 tuously, and, occasionally, a slight rosy blush 
 would momentarily replace the pallor of her face. 
 
 Pereira yet delayed, and Cyrino, with fixed gaze 
 and a meditative physiognomy somewhat pale be- 
 traying his inward commotion, ceased not to feast 
 his eyes in admiration of the beauty of his new 
 patient. 
 
 Once she half opened her eyes and shyly threw 
 a glance which encountered that of the youth — a 
 rapid, instantaneous glance that penetrated to her 
 heart and caused a tremor to thrill the beauteous 
 form.
 
 92 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Without knowing wliy or Avlierefore her lips 
 trembled, and she shivered as though a cold rigour 
 had seized her. 
 
 " Have you fever ? " inquired Cjrino, in a low 
 voice. 
 
 " 1 don^t know/' she responded. 
 
 ''Let me examine the pulse," and taking her 
 hand as he leaned over her, he tenderly pressed 
 it in his own, and retained it there in spite of 
 the faint efforts she occasionally made to with- 
 draw it. 
 
 Pereira now entered. Innocencia quickly closed 
 her eyes, and Oyrino, hastily regaining his former 
 position, pressed a finger to his lips to indicate 
 silence. 
 
 " Hush-sh ! She is sleeping/' he whispered. 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " replied Pereira, in the same low 
 tone. " That stupid Maria Conga apset the coffee- 
 pot and another lot had to be made. Did I delay 
 very long ? " 
 
 " No," responded Cyrino, in all sincerity. 
 
 " But now," observed Pereira, '' we must wake 
 up the little one." 
 
 " There is no alternative but to do so." 
 The father approached the bedside and called 
 softly, '' 'Nocencia, 'Nocencia." 
 
 As she did not reply, he gently shook her
 
 THE REMEDY. 93 
 
 shoulder until she opened her eyes with a startled 
 glance. 
 
 " Apre ! What asleep ! " remarked the kind 
 old man. '^ It was only an instant ago that I loft 
 her ! Vamos ! ^Nocencia, it is time for the 
 medicine.'" 
 
 Cyrino mixed the quinine in the coffee. ^' Look, 
 Dona ! I want you to take this all at once^ and 
 then have some sweet limes." 
 
 "Is it then very nasty ? " she somewhat petu- 
 lantly inquired. 
 
 "It IS bitter^ but in an instant the taste will 
 pass away." 
 
 " Papa/' objected the young- girl, " I don't want 
 it, I don't want it." 
 
 " Now, my own little darling, do not be afraid, 
 you know it has to be. To-morrow you will be 
 all right, won't she, doctor ? " 
 
 " Certainly, if she takes the medicine.'" 
 " And when I go to the town, I will bring you 
 something pretty — some jewellery — there — do you 
 hear that, eh ? '^ 
 " Nhor-sim." 
 
 " Go, Tico," added the Mineiro, turning to the 
 dwarf, " go quickly and fetch a sweet lime ; there 
 in the kitchen are some already peeled.^^ 
 
 " Now take this. Dona," implored Cyrino in his
 
 94 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 turn, as lie lield the cup to tlie lips of his beautiful 
 patient. 
 
 She raised her eyes appealingly to him, but 
 resolutely grasping the cup, she swallowed the 
 nauseous draught at a gulp, gave a shudder of 
 disgust, and sought relief in the delicate flavour 
 of the prescribed fruit. 
 
 ''There now," exclaimed Pereira, "the fear 
 was worse than the reality; you took the dose in a 
 twinkling." 
 
 " To-morrow morning, or, better still, at day- 
 break, she must have another dose, and then the 
 Dona can get up." 
 
 '' Yet another ? " protested Innocencia, with a 
 gesture of petulance. 
 
 ''Yes, Dona, it is absolutely necessary," replied 
 the amorous doctor, softening, by a tender inflection 
 of his voice, the severity of the prescription. 
 
 " Certainly it is," corroborated Pereira. 
 
 " Afterwards the Dona must refrain from any 
 fresh meat for a whole month, neither take any 
 milk, green vegetables, eggs, or maize flour. She 
 must partake only of thoroughly-cured sun-dried 
 beef, and rice with very little salt, and, above all, 
 take coffee with only a little sugar in it.* 
 
 * This regime for fever convalescents is religiously observed 
 
 throughout the Scrtilo of Brazil.
 
 THE REMEDY. 95 
 
 '^ These instructions/' added Pereira, " must be 
 followed witli the greatest attention." 
 
 " Now I hope you will sleep well^ and do not 
 be frightened if you feel a singing in your ears or 
 even become a little deaf^ for that is only the 
 effect of the medicine, and it is a good sign." 
 
 " These doctors know everything," murmured 
 Pereira, as he hastily crossed himself. 
 
 Cyrino, before retiring from the room, on the 
 plea of once more examining the pulse of his 
 patient, failed not to take her hand in his and 
 grasp it with a tender pressure. 
 
 A sound man he entered the room to cure an 
 invalid, but he left it with the newly-acquired 
 infirmity of love-sickness. 
 
 When he returned to the guest's room he 
 sought sleep in vain, and tossed restlessly on his 
 hard couch until the first gleams of dawn, without 
 having once obtained a moment's repose. That 
 face he had gazed upon, those eyes whose shy 
 glances he had perceived, that vision of the ala- 
 baster neck, the shadowed outline of the graceful 
 form — all these formed salient points in the 
 memory of that harmonious array of beauteous 
 charms as seen by the fitful light of the candle, 
 and served to fatally plunge him into that abyss 
 sown with torments called a ^^ passion."
 
 96 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 The first rays of dawn stole into the chamber 
 of the guests, and the silence of the hour was 
 only disturbed by the still restless movements of 
 Cyrino on his hard couch, by the crow of a cock, 
 or by the heavy breathing of Meyer, echoing and 
 keeping time to the resonant snoring of the garru- 
 lous Jose Pinho.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE LETTER Or RECOMMENDATION. 
 
 When Meyer opened his eyes in tlie mornings lie- 
 perceived Cyrino already up and occupied in 
 arranging the contents of a small trunk. 
 
 " Oh !" he exclaimed admiringly, "the Senhor 
 is indeed an early riser." 
 
 " It is true/' Cyrino somewhat sadly replied. 
 
 " And Juque yet sleeps ! He is a man, that 
 Juque. He seems more like an armadillo than a 
 human being. All day long I have to keep waking 
 him up." 
 
 And adapting his practice to his words, the 
 phlegmatic master proceeded to arouse the servant, 
 who, after a prodigious amount of awful yawns, 
 groans, and stretching of limbs, at last sat up on 
 the hide on which he had slept, and commenced to 
 rub his puffy and sleepy eyes. 
 
 H
 
 98 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " God be witli your worships/' said he at last in 
 the interval of two terrific yawns. Oh, Mochu ! 
 you have robbed me of the best of my sleep. I 
 was just dreaming that I had returned to Rio de 
 Janeiro and was following a band of music in the 
 Largo de Rocio. Do you know the Largo de 
 Rocio ? " he inquired of Cyrino. 
 '' No." 
 " Sheeh ! What a square it is ! Eh, Mochu ? 
 
 It " Another yawn impeded the coming 
 
 description of the famed square. 
 
 " Jtique/^ exclaimed Meyer joyfully, " the day 
 is clear and bright ; we shall be able to collect at 
 least twenty new butterflies." 
 
 "■ How much will Mochu give me if I capture 
 twenty-five ? " 
 
 " Five-and-twenty ? " repeated the German 
 doubtfully. 
 
 " Yes, five-and-twenty, and even more, six-and- 
 twenty. Say, how much will you give ? " 
 " Oh ! I give you two milreis." 
 '' It is done. I close the bargain. I am always 
 thus ; as bread is bread and cheese is cheese, so 
 certain am I that they call me Jose Pinho, your 
 servant, Carioca by birth, christened in the parish 
 
 of Lagoa, out there by the way of Broco, and " 
 
 " Now," interrupted Meyer, '' go and fetch some
 
 THE LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION. 99 
 
 "water for a wasli, and. find the soap and comb in 
 the trunk." 
 
 " Now, look you, doctor," continued the servant, 
 still seated on the floor and turning* to Cyrino, 
 " this life of mine is six hundred diabos. We left 
 E,io more than two years ago. Eh, Mochu ? " 
 
 " Two-and-twenty months," replied the metho- 
 dical Meyer. 
 
 "Very well. Now, all this time we have just 
 been on the tramp as though we were doing a job 
 of penitence. And not only that, not a bit of it. 
 Every day we march at least thirty-six miles, run- 
 ning here, there, backwards and forwards, tum- 
 bling about, and all in search of the flying bichos." 
 
 '^Jiique/' Meyer attempted to observe, "look 
 you " 
 
 " Well, it is as I say," proceeded Jose Pinho. 
 ''' I am now just mad against such tomfoolery. I 
 can^t imagine why Nosso Senhor created such a 
 heap of useless creatures. Well, he only knows. 
 As to myself, I would, if I could, jDut fire to all the 
 maggots, for from maggots come out all these 
 ' innesects ' that are filling up worlds of places. 
 But look you, doctor, there, in the country of this 
 man — poor fellow, he is a very good sort you know, 
 and I think very much of him — why, these bichos 
 are worth oven more than gold dust. Also, if the 
 
 h2
 
 ICO INNOCENCU. 
 
 Modiu did not like me very mucli, I would not 
 put up witli what I liave to bear. Such another 
 as he you will not meet, nao, Senhor — one who has 
 so much patience. No, there are not two of 
 them. I know." 
 
 During this flood of words Meyer went himself 
 to procure in his trunk the requisite soap and 
 comb, and showing these objects to the speaker, 
 he energetically vociferated : 
 
 " Shut up, Juque ! Shut up, chatterbox ! Go, 
 fetch some water, or I will not take you with me 
 to the woods to-day." 
 
 With many mutterings to himself, and taking a 
 large zinc basin from amidst the baggage, Jose 
 Pinho went away to obey the order. 
 
 '' That man," presently observed Meyer, in 
 apology for his servant, " is a very good fellow, 
 faithful and honest, but an awful talker. But to 
 me he is invaluable, for he catches butterflies with 
 great dexterity." 
 
 The man entering at the moment thus heard 
 his own praises. Therefore, with an air of grave 
 importance, he placed the great basin on the 
 ground in front of Meyer, who, after removing his 
 spectacles, squatted by its side. 
 
 The legs of the German were so long in com- 
 parison to his body, that when he bent his head
 
 THE LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION. loi 
 
 over tlie water his knees were on a level witli his 
 shoulder. 
 
 The ablution occupied some minutes, and the 
 hair was still glued to his skull and the water yet 
 dripping from his long locks, when Pereira entered. 
 
 The appearance of the naturalist was grotesque 
 in the extreme; nevertheless, so varied is the 
 appreciation of every one of us, so capricious the 
 judgment of the senses, that the Mineiro, ap- 
 proaching Cyrino, said to him in a low voice : 
 
 " Do you not observe, my friend, how fine a 
 figure is this foreigner ? So stately he is, and 
 what eyes he has ! Any woman would lose her 
 heart for the sake of this big bicho. Well, 
 Senhor Maia," he continued in a loud voice, as 
 he interpolated his idea of masculine beauty, 
 " how have you passed the night ? " 
 
 "Ah! Senhor Pereira ! Pardon me for not see- 
 ing you, I am without my spectacles, but wait an 
 instant and I will talk to you,'^ and still dripping 
 wet, he ran for his glasses. " Now I am all riglit,^' 
 he added, as he placed them before his salient 
 eyes. " My good friend, I slept like one without 
 sins." 
 
 " Then,^^ observed Cyrino, " I should have them 
 in abundance, for, from midnight until now, I have 
 not closed an eye."
 
 102 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " This is the return of some amor," replied 
 Pereira, laughing, and clapping his guest on the 
 shoulder. 
 
 Cjriuo trembled visibly. 
 
 '^ YeSj you are a young man, and doubtless have 
 left some sweetheart behind you up there in Minas, 
 and now and then her memory upsets the heart. 
 Ah ! It is just the age for it, you know." 
 
 '' That's it, most probably," added Meyer, with 
 all gravity. 
 
 " Now, is it not so ? " insisted Pereira. " Now, 
 confess — it will do you no harm — is it not really 
 a return of a7no7' ? " 
 
 '^ I — I will swear," stammered Cyrino. 
 
 " Oh, if it is," observed Jose Pinho, who 
 considered he ought to join in the conversation, 
 " 1, in Kio Janeiro " 
 
 The German calmly turned towards his follower 
 and cut short any further remarks of his, 
 
 " Jiique," said he, " go at once and see after 
 the mules, and don't you meddle when white 
 people are talking with your patrao." 
 
 As the man was about to retort — 
 
 " Go, go," continued his ever-serene master, 
 " your discussion never serves for anything.'" 
 
 Jose muttered something, but went away grum- 
 bling to himself.
 
 THE LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION. 103 
 
 Mejer thought it right to again apologise for 
 his man. 
 
 " A good fellow/' said he, " a good fellow, iDut 
 an awful talker." 
 
 '' But now, really, do tell me," earnestly in- 
 quired Pereira, stepping back a pace and express- 
 ing on his face the anxiety of one who desired to 
 solve a doubtful problem. " Is it actually true 
 that the Senhor is wandering all over these Sertaos 
 just to stick ' innesects ■" ? " 
 
 " Certainly/' responded Meyer, with some en- 
 thusiasm. " In my country they are very valuable 
 for purposes of science, and for placing in museums 
 and collections. I am travelling by order of 
 my government, and already I have forwarded 
 many cases all full. They are very precious 
 indeed." 
 
 " Now, just think of that/' exclaimed Pereira, 
 aghast with astonishment. " Whoever could ima- 
 gine that one could ever go a hunting these 
 bichos ? Cruz ! A man like this — a doctor — to 
 go a running about after fireflies and other little 
 bichos of the woods just like some boy a chasing 
 the cicadas ! Well ! Well ! One learns a lot in 
 this world ? Now look you, Senhor, if I had not a 
 family, I would be quite capable of going* with you 
 to these worlds away about here, for I always like
 
 104 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 to mix witli people of quality. That^s my nature. 
 Who knows me, knows tliat is so 
 
 " How goes the invalid ? •" inquired Cyrino, dis- 
 tractedly, interrujDting that cataract of words. 
 
 '' Truly, I am very contented. She took another 
 dose, and seems now to be nearly well, and already 
 looks like another person. The Senhor really per- 
 formed a miracle.''^ 
 
 " Under favour of Deos, the Virgin Purissima 
 and all the Saints of Heaven/' added Cyrino, with 
 all modesty. 
 
 '' Don't you cure ? " inquired Pereira of Meyer. 
 
 "• No, Senhor. I am a doctor in philosophy of 
 the University of Leipzig, and " 
 
 '• Is that the name of a bicho ? " interrupted 
 Pereira. 
 
 " No, Senhor. It is a city." 
 
 " No one would have thought it. But, Senhor 
 Maia," continued Pereira, as he pointed towards 
 Cyi'ino. " There stands one with whom the fevers 
 won't play the fool. Eh ? " 
 
 '' Ah ! " exclaimed the German, opening yet 
 more his prominent eyes. " I am very happy to 
 know such a distinguished notability. In places 
 like this they are very rare " 
 
 " Ah ! Are they not ? " exclaimed Pereira. 
 "Fortunately he arrived here just in time to put
 
 THE LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION. 105 
 
 the cliild on her feet^ a daughter of mine — 
 and " 
 
 The face of Cyrino flushed, and with difiiculty 
 he suppressed .the emotion he experienced at her 
 mention, and with a grave air he ejaculated, 
 "Pray don't mention it, Senhor Pereira. The 
 case was a very simple one. Merely an ordi- 
 nary fever common to the rainy season. I saw at 
 once what was necessary to be done ; a mild sudo- 
 rific and two or three doses of quinine, and the 
 thing is finished." 
 
 Meyer followed these therapeutical indications 
 with his eyes fixed upon the speaker. Afterwards 
 he turned to Pereira, and, with an emphatic nod 
 of his head, expressed his approbation by saying : 
 
 " Good doctor ! Good doctor ! " 
 
 From that moment Cyrino experienced a decided 
 sympathy for the German; and Pereira, seeing 
 the friendly disposition of the men towards each 
 other, and one which he had been instrumental in 
 establishing between two such evidently great 
 savants, felt very much gratified to have this 
 opportunity of sheltering both of them at the 
 same time under his humble roof. 
 
 " Then," said the Mineiro, recommencing to 
 touch upon the butterfly question, '^ withal, your 
 government pay you very well. Eh, Senhor Maia ? 
 
 9 j>
 
 To6 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 '' Sufficiently ; aud all tlie authorities aid me 
 very mucli. I have many letters — letters of intro- 
 duction. Here, would you like to see them ? 
 Juque ! Juque ! " he clamoured, forgetting that 
 the man had left the room, '' come here ! Ah, I 
 forgot that he has gone to water the animals. 
 Never mind, I will show you directly." 
 
 Taking from amidst his baggage a small water- 
 proof-covered box, he opened it and produced 
 therefrom a bundle of letters carefully numbered 
 and neatly tied with tape. 
 
 " This one is for Miranda, in Mato Grosso,'^ 
 he announced, as he turned over the letters. 
 ''This one is for Cuyaba, this for Diamantina. 
 These others here are letters that I shall have 
 to return to the writers, for I could not find the 
 people to whom they were addressed.^^ 
 
 " Are there many of them ? " inquired Pereira. 
 *' Three or four. Here is one for Senhor Joao 
 Manoel Quaresma, in Oliveira ; another for Senhor 
 Quintana, in Pitanguy ; this one is for Senhor 
 
 Martinho dos Santos Pereira, in Piumhy " 
 
 '' Eh ! What ! " almost screamed the Mineiro, 
 greatly astonished. "Bead that name again; read." 
 Meyer obeyed. 
 
 " But that name is mine ! " exclaimed Pereira 
 excitedly. " That letter is for me."
 
 THE LETTER OF RECOMMENDJTION. 107 
 
 " Wha-a-at ! " stammered the German, in sur- 
 prise. " Now that is very curious." 
 
 " It is me — me ! '' boisterously shouted the 
 Mineiro. "'That is clear. Whoever wrote that 
 letter thought that I yet lived in Piumhy, for I 
 never told any one where I moved to. Open the 
 letter without fear. Oh, Senhora Sant' Anna! 
 What a day it is, surely ! Who would have 
 thouo-ht it ? A letter ! You can read it, Senhor 
 Maia. I am all afire to know who wrote me — 
 Martinho dos Santos Pereira, of Piumhy ! Yes, 
 that's me ; no doubt of it. There are not two of 
 us. Just see the name — the name only — of who- 
 ever has sent me the letter." 
 
 The German after some scrupulous hesitation 
 broke the seal, and, glancing his eyes over the 
 letter, he slowly read aloud the signature : 
 
 " Francisco dos Santos Pereira." 
 
 " Chiquinho ! " * exclaimed the Mineiro, in the 
 height of joy. "It is my brother Chiquinho, 
 whom I long ago thought to be dead. May Nosso 
 Senhor preserve him for many years ! Oh, Chi- 
 quinho ! Did any one ever see anything like 
 this ? What strange things happen in this world ! 
 Eh, Senhor Cyrino ? Who would have thought 
 that this man who arrived here in the middle of 
 
 * Little Frank.
 
 io8 INNOCENCU. 
 
 last niglit would bring in liis trunk a letter from 
 my brother — he whom I have not seen for more 
 than forty years ? Well, well, what changes there 
 are in this world ! What — let me see — ah, yes, 
 it was in 1819 — no, in 20. But there, read me 
 the letter; let ns see what Chiquinho says to me. 
 Poor old chap, he must be pretty old now. Out 
 of all the family he was the most sensible ; he was 
 also the oldest. Oh, Senhor, you are indeed wel- 
 come to this house ! Whoever brings me notice 
 of my family " 
 
 Meyer interrupted this torrent of effusion, which 
 promised to be without end, by commencing to 
 slowly read, or rather spell out, the contents of 
 the communication, for the queer characters of 
 the letters sometimes obliged him to twist and 
 turn the paper, hold it close to his eyes, or try to 
 decipher it in one position or another. 
 
 " Martinho," said the letter, " T send you these 
 ill-traced lines only to hear of your health and to 
 tell you that the bearer is a Senhor of great 
 learning, and who goes to the wild Sertao travel- 
 ling and studying the countries. He came to me 
 from Rio do Janeiro, strongly recommended. I 
 ask you to accommodate him, not as any casual 
 passer-by, but as if he were I in person, your 
 eldest brother, and the head of our family "
 
 THE LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION. 109 
 
 " Poor brother ! " exclaimed Pereira, half cry- 
 ing. 
 
 " He is a man/^ Meyer continued to read^ " of 
 great education. Adous, Martinho. 1 am settled 
 here in Mato do Pio, on a small farm. I have 
 five children — three males and two females ; these 
 last are married, and have some long time ago 
 given me grandchildren. My health and strength 
 are yet good. It is more than eight years since 
 I received any news of you. Do you know that 
 Eoberto died in Paranan ? " 
 
 '^ Eoberto ? Ah, poor fellow ! " Pereira inter- 
 rupted, in a moved tone of voice, and suddenly, 
 as the memories of his boyhood flashed across his 
 mind, his eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " And without more,'^ concluded Meyer, '^ adeus. 
 May you be happy, and adeus. Your brother, 
 Francisco dos Santos Pereira.'" 
 
 " Well, really," said Pereira, somewhat affected, 
 as he tendered his hand to the German, '' the 
 Senhor has indeed filled me with joy. Clasp this 
 hand, and if ever it is raised, even to disturb a 
 hair of your head, or agaiust any one of your 
 family — no matter what may be the offence — then 
 may it be destroyed by Decs, who now hears 
 me!" 
 
 '^ Thank you, Senhor Pereira," said the other
 
 no INNOCENCU. 
 
 ■witH animation as lie returned tlie clasp of tlie 
 hand. 
 
 " Sim Senhor/' continued tlie Mineiro. '' This 
 letter I value more tlian one from tlie Emperor 
 wlio governs Brazil. That is wliat I say^ Senlior 
 Maia. 
 
 " Meyer/' observed the German^ emphasising 
 the last syllable, " Meyer." 
 
 ''Ah! True. It is necessary to translate: 
 Meyer, Meyer. Ah ! now I have got hold of the 
 thing. But as I was about to say, this house is 
 yours. My brother, my eldest brother, told me to 
 receive you as if you were he himself, Chico. 
 Well, so shall it be. You shall be just one of 
 our family. Any one can see that is what he 
 means. I understood at once. If I did not, I should 
 be very stupid, and by favour of Deos no one can 
 say that of me. The Senhor will dispose of me as 
 he wills, and my barn, my lands, my slaves, my cattle 
 and every thing else, in part, or wholly, are his. 
 Who is now speaking is no longer the owner of 
 any one thing here, the real owner is the Senhor. 
 My brother wrote me, that is enough. There is 
 no need to think for a moment that I will not obey 
 the orders of my superiors and relatives. It is just 
 as if I had received a command from the hand of 
 the Emperor, the son of Pedro the First, who turned
 
 THE LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION, iii 
 
 out tlie Poi-tuguese and raised tliis Empire on the 
 field of Ipyranga, away there hj S. Paulo de 
 Piratinim ; where in those days there used to be a 
 college of priests and monks in great number, the 
 starting place of the old pioneers who went out to 
 distant worlds to fight the wild Indians, and hunt 
 jaguars, and carry their standards to the banks of 
 the Paraguay and the falls of the Parana, even 
 extending their excursions to the Eeductions * 
 whence they brought away a crowd of captives in 
 chains t but so many of whom died on the road 
 that only a few hundred arrived, and so thin were 
 
 they that " 
 
 Pereira delivered himself of all these phrases 
 with surprising volubility, so much so that Meyer 
 gazed at him with a blank expression of astonish- 
 ment, while he waited for an interval in the torrent 
 of words to slip in some words of thanks. It was, 
 however, only after some moments, that he was 
 enabled to sharply ejaculate a resonant " Thank 
 you,^' and follow it up by observing : 
 
 * " Reductions" were the names given to the settlements of 
 Indians in the care of the Jesuits in Paraguay. In 1630 there 
 -were twenty such settlements, with 70,000 inhabitants. 
 
 t It is reported that 140 Spaniards entered Paraguay from 
 Brazil and attacked the "Reductions," with 1,500 Tupy Indians, 
 all well armed and in military order, and carried away as slaves 
 7,000 prisoners.
 
 112 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " But the Senhor talks like a very cataract. Do 
 you not get tired ? " 
 
 " Tired ? Not a bit," replied the Mineiro boast- 
 fully. " The people all about here are by nature 
 only little talkers, but I — no, Senhor, for I was 
 born and bred amongst civilised people."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE BREAKrAST. 
 
 Cyrino suddenly arose from tlie coucli on wliicli lie 
 had been seated. " I must see about continuing 
 my journey to-morrow/' said lie. 
 
 ''What! doctor?'''' protested Pereira. "Go 
 away already ? No, that will never do. Why, 
 you have not yet quite cured my daughter. I will 
 pay you for your delay here, that is, if it be neces- 
 sary." 
 
 '' Oh, Senhor Pereira/' protested the youth, 
 " that would offend me indeed.'^ 
 
 " Well, I pray you to ]3ardon me, but I cannot 
 think of allowing you to leave hero under two 
 weeks at least." 
 
 '' But " 
 
 " Oh, bother your buts ! Remember, you won't 
 want for patients. My ranch Avill be visited as if 
 
 I
 
 114 INNOCENCU. 
 
 it was a public liouse of entertainment, and tlie 
 Senlior will really not be able to attend to all who 
 come for advice. Look you ! I have already sent 
 to tell Coolho, and in a little wbile lie will be stick- 
 ing to you like a carapato. No, Senbor, you don't 
 leave this yet awhile. Do you wish to desert 
 ■'Nocencia as she is, even yet ? " 
 
 " Ah, truly," precipitately observed Cyrino. 
 
 " Well then ? It is not good even to think about 
 it. Let things remain as they are for my sake, for 
 anyhow you will have to arrange your business 
 here.'' 
 
 " Ah ! That is just what I was about to men- 
 tion, for I feared the trouble might inconvenience 
 you. Once that patients begin to arrive here " 
 
 ''They will come; remain here without any 
 fear." 
 
 " Well, I will, then," Cyrino decided. " Just as 
 long as you please." 
 
 " Bravo ! That is capital ! " exclaimed Pereira, 
 with sincerity. " It is just what I would like. As 
 to Senhor Maia — Meyer I mean — he will have to 
 take root in this house." 
 
 " That cannot be, my time is all marked out by 
 my government." 
 
 "Well, well, but you must make a long stay 
 with us. It is a pity that the Manecao is not here,
 
 THE BREAKFAST. 115 
 
 so that I miglit hurry up the wedding, when we 
 wouki have such a festival as never was seen in 
 these woods. But here am I with my tongue a 
 rattling away and not even thinking that our 
 stomachs have had nothing to-day. Breakfast 
 ought to be ready directly. I will go and see 
 after it." 
 
 He left the i-oom on saying these words, and, in 
 a few moments afterwards he returned with Maria, 
 the old negress, carrying the table-cloth and a 
 gourd full of farinha. 
 
 " Senhores/' cried Pereira boisterously, " to-day 
 I will breakfast with you both at this table, but 
 listen, Senhor Meyer, after to-day you will eat 
 with me and my daughter there inside," pointing 
 as he spoke to the rear of the house, and, turning 
 to Cyrino, ''Well, you know,'''' he explained, ''he is 
 noAv one of the family, as though he were Chiquinho 
 himself." 
 
 The table spread, the three men gleefully seated 
 themselves thereat. 
 
 "Look you, Senhor Meyer," said the Mineiro 
 as he served the German, " these are the very best 
 of beans. Mix them with the rice and herbs, and 
 add a few pinches of farinha." 
 
 The naturalist commenced to masticate with the 
 slowness of a ruminating animal, occasionally in- 
 
 i2
 
 Ji6 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 terrupting- tlie morose exercise to exclaim, " Deli- 
 cious really ! A^ery delicious ! " 
 
 Cyrino eat little and maintained silence. 
 
 "In Germany/' declared Meyer, contemplating 
 a bean, " tlie largest beans do not attain tliis size. 
 Sucli a breakfast as tliis would cost in Saxonia 
 quite two tlialers, or about two thousand five 
 Jiundred reis.'^ 
 
 Pereira interrupted bim by observing witli a 
 comical gesture ! " Two thousand five hundred 
 reis ? Dear me ! Why, whatever sort of country 
 is that ? How do you call it ? " 
 
 " Sac-sonia,'' responded the German, with gra- 
 vity. 
 
 " Saco-sonha ! " exclaimed Pereira. '^I never 
 heard tell of it ; but surely, people must go about 
 ■there dying of hunger ? " 
 
 " According to the last statistics,^' replied Meyer 
 slowly, and with many pauses, in order to in- 
 troduce to his mouth enormous spoonfuls of the 
 mixture as prescribed by his host, '' it is known 
 that in London there is a daily average of 8 deaths 
 from starvation, in Berlin, 5, in Vienna, 4, in 
 Paris, 2, in Pekin, 12, in Jeddo, 7, in " 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! ho ! " shouted Pereira, in a tone of 
 exultation; "then bravo for our land of Brazil, 
 whore no one need know what hunger means ; for
 
 THE BREAKFAST. 117 
 
 if in the liouse tliere is nothing to eat, you have 
 but to go to the forest for the wild honey of the 
 Jatahy or the Mandory bees, or the cabbage of 
 the Macauboira, and scores of other things. That 
 is, at least, hereabouts in these parts, because in 
 the cities all you have to do is to spread open your 
 hand, and lo ! alms at once rain down on it. That 
 is what I understand a country should be, any- 
 thing else is a disgrace.''' 
 
 " Ah ! " replied the German. " Brazil is indeed 
 a very fertile and a very rich country. It provides 
 coffee for half the world to drink, and when it has 
 more people it will supply enough ioc all the 
 globe." 
 
 ■'^Was I not right then, eh ?" exclaimed Pereira^ 
 with a glance of triumph as he clasped Cyrino by 
 the shoulder. "You see, even these foreigners 
 know all about us. What say you, my fellow 
 countryman. Holloa, man ! What are you silent 
 about, half deaf and dumb like ? What is it ? 
 The same old business again, eh ? ''•' 
 
 In fact, after hearing the invitation offered to 
 Meyer to join the family circle of the household 
 of Pereira, Cyrino had become dejected, restless, 
 and meditative. His body remained with his host, 
 but his mind wandered to that little room where 
 reposed the fever-stricken maiden, yet so beau- 
 tiful even with the pallor of illness.
 
 ii8 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " If tlie trouble is some woman," continued 
 Pereira, " don't worry yourself about it so, notliing 
 is more stupid. They are a kind of goods always 
 found in abundance everywhere." 
 
 Meyer, in the midst of the exercise of liis jaws, 
 believed that his host considered the feminine sex 
 from a statistical point of view, and accordingly 
 thought it advisable to enforce ideas somewhat 
 vaguely expressed. '^Certainly/' said he dogmati- 
 cally, " in the Slav race the proportion is two 
 women to one man ; in the Latins, of two men to 
 one woman. In France, the proportion on the 
 masculine side is " 
 
 " But have you counted them ? " interrupted 
 Pereira, '^' Let me tell you one thing, I wont 
 swallow Macaws." * 
 
 " Nor I," Meyer affirmed, with some indignation. 
 " I know not why you now mention those bichos ; 
 if considered in the sense of game, all know that 
 these climbers have tough flesh and '" 
 
 Pereira, who laughed immoderately at the Ger- 
 man's misapprehension, at once explained the 
 real sense of his expression, and continued to 
 discuss with his methodical and polite interlocutor. 
 
 " You might talk to me for a whole year," said 
 the Mineiro finally, ''but I would not under- 
 
 * An expression of inc-i'ccliilousncss.
 
 THE BREAKFAST. 119 
 
 stand a tittle of your jigy-jogy 'stic-tics" and 
 countings. Whoever removes me from tlie floor 
 puts me in tlie woods * But now let us return 
 thanks to Deus, our Saviour, for giving us this 
 good meal." 
 
 Following his words by example, he rose to his 
 feet, and, with clasped hands and in a low voice, 
 he uttered the words of the grace, in Avhich he 
 was accompanied by his two guests. 
 
 "Now,"' announced Pereira, on leaving the 
 table, " I will just have a run through the plan- 
 tation, where three good-for-nothing blacks are 
 at work, one of whom is my foreman. Afterwards 
 I shall have to look up some neighbours to tell 
 them of your arrival, doctor. Ah, but," he added, 
 '' I have not yet shown you my daughter, Senhor 
 Meyer." 
 
 "'Your daughter!" exclaimed the German; 
 " then have you children ? " 
 
 " Sim, Senhor. Don't you remember that your 
 person is that of my brother Chiquinho ? Well, 
 then, what greater proof of confidence and friend- 
 ship can I give you ? Eh, Senhor Cyrino ? " 
 
 ''Ah, without doubt," stammered the young 
 man, as he endeavoured to control his confusion. 
 
 * Pereira wished to express that unfamiliar subjects of conversa- 
 tion were beyond the possibility of his comprehension.
 
 120 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 "lAy dauglitei'; who is called 'Nocencia, only 
 to-day got up from a sick-bed. Slie has been ill. 
 Even now I know not that the ague has quite left 
 her^ for sometimes the body is long affected with 
 the pest." 
 
 " That you must leave to my care," observed 
 Cyrino hastily ; '' she must yet take some more 
 quinine at midday." 
 
 '^ Do as you think best. Would you like to see 
 her, Senhor Meyer ? " 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," the German amiably 
 replied. 
 
 " She is the only member of my family that I 
 have here, besides a certain big fellow, a son of 
 mine, who is on the road hereabouts. Then let 
 us go. Come you also," he continued, addressing 
 Cyrino ; " a surgeon is almost one of the family." 
 
 The three men then left the room and pro- 
 ceeded towards the rear, or family quarters, of 
 the premises.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE PRESENTATION. 
 
 After traversing a room somewliat obscurely 
 lighted^ the visitors entered an adjoining one^ 
 spacious in area, floored with red tiles, and, being 
 Avithout any ceiling, exposing to view the thatch 
 and rafters of the roof above.. In a corner of this 
 chamber, and on a bamboo sofa, was seated the 
 daughter of the Mineiro. 
 
 Her feet rested on the skin of a huge ant-eater, 
 on which squatted the dwarf Tico. 
 
 The beautiful g-irl, on seeing so many visitors, 
 opened her great eyes wide with surprise, and at- 
 tempted to rise, but the effort was unavailing, and, 
 slightly blushing, she almost fainted with weakness. 
 
 Cyrino flew eagerly towards her. " The maiden,' ' 
 said he to Pereira, "is so weak that it is painful to 
 see her."
 
 122 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 The father approaclied her with Meyer, and 
 gently taking her hands in his, he inquired,, in a 
 tender voice, ''Do you feel any worse, my child ?" 
 
 "Nhor-nao" (No, Sir), she responded. 
 
 " Well, then, you really must not give way to 
 such weakness. Open your eyes. Look ! Here is 
 this man/' pointing to Meyer, " a German, who 
 has brought a letter from your uncle Chico away 
 there in Mato do Eio. I want to show him that he 
 is now one of our own jDcople, so I have brought 
 him to present him to you." 
 
 She made no reply. 
 
 " Come ! come ! Say something. Say you have 
 much pleasure in making his acquaintance. Say so." 
 
 Innocencia slowly and timidly repeated the 
 words, and Meyer tendered his hand, large as the 
 flapper of a turtle, and frank and generous as his 
 heart. 
 
 " Pleasure, much pleasure, have I," said he, 
 with two or three sonorous gurgles of the throat, 
 " although I regret to see you ill. But the doctor 
 here will soon make you well. Is it not so, Senhor 
 Cyrino, Hein ? " He uttered the last word in a 
 tone that echoed throughout the room. 
 
 " It is advisable," said the young man, " for the 
 Dona to take, during some days, some bark of the 
 quina of the campos mixed with a little good wine,
 
 THE PRESENTATION. 123 
 
 but wliere sliall I now find wine ? Only in the 
 town of Sant' Anna." 
 
 " Wine ? " inquired Meyer. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Port wine ? " 
 
 " Better still.'' 
 
 " Well, all is arranged. In my trunk I liave a 
 bottle of tlie very best, and with very niucb. 
 pleasure I will cede it to the daughter of my friend 
 Pereira." 
 
 "Oh! Senhor Meyer/' thankfully and effusively 
 exclaimed Pereira. " You cannot imagine how I — ' ' 
 
 " Oh ! no, not at all, no obligation whatever. 
 No, Seulior, your daughter is really lovely, and 
 appears to be an equally good girl. She must 
 naturallv have such a beautiful colour that I 
 would give anything to see her in health. What 
 a maiden ! What loveliness ! " 
 
 These words, that the innocent Saxon pro- 
 nounced ex abundantia cordis, produced extra- 
 ordinary commotion in the persons who heard 
 them. 
 
 Pereira turned pale, and his brows frowned as he 
 threw a sidelong glance of astonishment at one who 
 so imprudently eulogised, face to face, the beauty of 
 his daughter. Innocencia blushed fiercely. Cyrino, 
 almost beside himself, experienced a strange feel-
 
 124 INNOCENCU. 
 
 ing of admiration ; while the dwarf, lialf terrified, 
 leaped up from the ant-eater rug. 
 
 Meyer did not observe the confusion of his com- 
 panions, and, with his habitual sincerity, he pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 '' Here, in the Sertao of Brazil, exists a very bad 
 custom of hiding- from sio-ht the females of a house- 
 hold. A traveller knows not whether they are 
 beautiful or ug'ly. But, on m.y word, Senhor 
 Pereira, if they are all like this young woman, 
 your daughter, it is a fact really worthy of men- 
 tion. I " 
 
 " Shall wo go ? " interrupted Pereira testily. 
 
 " Certainly,''^ replied the German, and, as a 
 parting salutation to Innocencia, he added, as he 
 turned towards her, " I, Wilhelm Tembel Meyer, 
 your servant, am most happy to know you as the 
 daughter of a friend of mine, and one who capti- 
 vates me with your charming face." Tendering 
 his hand, he bowed, and then followed the Mineiro, 
 who left the room with his face livid with anger. 
 
 " And what think you of this man ? " he inquired 
 of Cyrino, in a low voice. 
 
 " I certainly was astonished at his manner," 
 replied the young man in the same tone. 
 
 *'I hardly know huw to contain myself — I — I 
 am blinded with rage. Oh ' what a present Chico
 
 THE PRESENTATION. 125 
 
 has sent me ! He is a pest, is this yellow cliabo. 
 No sooner does he see a girl when he lets her have 
 a half-dozen of soapj^- com^Dliments. Bah ! he must 
 be a bad one. A good for nothing. But there, 
 you leave me alone, I will keep an eye upon him." 
 
 " You will do well/' observed Cyrino. 
 
 " Now, look you," continued Pereii-a, detaining 
 his companion in order to allow Meyer to go 
 onwards, " Am I not in a pretty moss ? If it was 
 not for that letter of my brother's, I swear that 
 that fellow would to-day have to dance to a good 
 cudgelling. The ruffian ! Just imagine ! A woman 
 who expects a husband in a couple of days. Let 
 us only hope that Manecao will hear nothing of 
 this, or otherwise his knife will soon be into the 
 rascal. Eh ! just think of it, eh ! Ah ! Those 
 chaps from foreign parts ! Cruz ! Yet there, when 
 I first saw him — a fine pretty fellow, a thorough 
 coxcomb — I might have known that he was a gal- 
 lant after the women." 
 
 Cyrino listened in silence. 
 
 " And woman," continued the Mineiro with 
 wrathful volubility, " la a thing so easily influenced 
 by any foolery, that these idiots slobber over them 
 Avith their flattery and nonsense. With women, I 
 say always, you never know where you are. Ah ! 
 it was a bad hour that brought this German — and
 
 126 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Cliico above all. Eh ! I must now be cautious^ as 
 — as a liunter waiting at a saltlick — and dig pit- 
 falls so tliat tbe wild cat of tlie woods may not 
 enter my fowl-liouse/^ 
 
 "He will soon be going away/' said CyrinO; con- 
 solingly. 
 
 '' May tlie demon seize liim/' replied Pereira, "I 
 am just furious all over witb. tbe man." 
 
 At this moment^ Meyer inopportunely returned 
 and observed : 
 
 " Senbor Pereira^ I will stop witb you^ perbaps, 
 two weeks. Tbe mules will tben get strong and 
 fat in your pasture^ and meanwbile I sball make 
 journeys on foot all about tbe neigbbourbood to 
 collect anytbing I can find. Do you bear ?" 
 
 Pereira expressed a gesture of strong discontent, 
 but, influenced by the instinct and duties of hospi- 
 tality, be responded somewhat drily : 
 
 " Remain two weeks, or two months, or two 
 years. Tbe bouse is yours, I have already told 
 you, and my word of honour once given returns no 
 more. Who is here now is not the Senbor, you 
 are my oldest brother himself." 
 
 Tben grasping firmly tbe band of Cyrino, he 
 whispered to him, ''Look you, doctor, see this 
 now ! What sball I say to him ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 My Meyer, you want to play the fool with me, eh ?
 
 THE PRESENTATION. 127 
 
 But liere also remain I. Now that I know you, 
 not two^ nor three like you^ can throw dust in my 
 eyes. Not this way you don't, 'Nocencia is the 
 daughter of a poor man^ but, thanks to Maria 
 Santissima, she has a father with two arms and 
 courage to defend her from the vagabonds and 
 rovers of the road. He won't play with Manecao : 
 that is a man, if you like, and, if he places his hand 
 on his prey, he will crush his bones like a forest 
 deer in the folds of an anaconda." 
 
 Meyer, however, absolutely unaware of the storm 
 that his words had provoked, and without doubt a 
 little disturbed in mind in thinking of the maiden 
 he had just visited, lightly hummed between his 
 teeth the air of a German waltz, perhaps danced 
 with some fair countrywoman of his in a bygone 
 period of happier associations and surroundings.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SUSPICIONS. 
 
 When tlie man of Saxony returned to tlie guest's 
 room, he appeared so pleased with the treatment 
 he had received, and with the favourable state 
 of the weather for collecting butterflies, that he 
 called the attention of his servant Jose, who, 
 seated on a trunk, was examining the soles of his 
 bare feet to see if some small stone had entered 
 that thick and insensible material. 
 
 "Man!" he familiarly replied. " Mochu is 
 very merry to-day. Has he seen any little green 
 bird?" 
 
 "Any little green bird?" inquired Meyer. 
 " What do you mean ? I have seen no little 
 green bird, but I have seen a very beautiful 
 young woman." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Better still ; but who is she ?"
 
 SUSPICIONS. 129 
 
 " Slie is tlie daugliter of Senlior Pereira." 
 " I congratulate you ! I congratulate you ! " 
 exclaimed Jose, with great indiscretion. 
 
 '^ Juque," rebuked tlie German, assuming- a 
 serious expression, " don't you be too familiar 
 witli people who are not of your class." 
 
 " But I did not say anything wrong, Mocliu." 
 Pereira, who had also entered the room and 
 heard these sentences, felt as if he was seated on 
 a fire of coals. " Decidedly that guest of mine 
 intends to irretrievably disgrace me, to thus pro- 
 claim aloud, as with a trumpet, that he has seen 
 Innocencia, that he had conversed with her, that 
 he had found her beautiful — her, a young woman 
 almost a bride ! Oh ! what insolence ! Ah, my 
 Saints of Paradise ! What prudence 1 require, 
 for any one ill-considered step may be charged 
 with irremediable consequences." 
 
 It is necessary to penetrate the sentiments which 
 so disturbed the Mineiro in order to appreciate 
 the cause of the varying moods through which he 
 passed, and to see that it was but natural that he 
 should adopt a line of conduct full of wavering- 
 doubts. If, on the one hand, he felt an involun- 
 tary admiration for Meyer, and surrounded him 
 in imagination with the prestige of irresistibly - 
 attractive charms, this only served to add to the 
 
 K
 
 1 30 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 terror of having so dangerous a guest amidst liis 
 liousehold. Yet, on the other hand, he felt himself 
 bound by the imperious duties of hospitality, which, 
 with the wishes of his elder brother, assumed a 
 character almost sacred. But in antagonism to 
 this bond of moral obligation rose up the inexorable 
 laws of domestic circumspection, the resjDonsibility 
 of screening from the eyes of strangers the 
 sanctuary of the family; for even with his great 
 love for his daughter — she being* a woman — he 
 reposed in her not the slightest trust, especially 
 when the supposition forced itself upon him of the 
 sentiment which that too-sedactive foreigner must 
 naturally create in the heart of Innocencia, despite 
 of the fact of her being already betrothed. More- 
 over, he foresaw the difficulty that he would have 
 to encounter in maintaining immutable his word 
 of honour, perhaps even at the cost of defending 
 his honour itself. All these complex problems 
 revolving in the mind of Pereira, showed their 
 disturbing effect on his usually jovial face in 
 sombre looks of uneasiness. 
 
 In order to divert the conversation which had 
 so embittered him, he inquired of Jose Pinho, 
 " For what reason do you call Senlior Meyer ' the 
 Mochu'?" 
 
 The man from Eio do Janeiro smiled with an
 
 SUSPICIONS. 131 
 
 air of superiority^ and explained without embarrass- 
 ment : 
 
 " Oil ! it is merely a way of speating." 
 
 ^^ How so?" 
 
 " Now, look here ! Don^t you call him ' the 
 Senhor ' ? " 
 
 '' Yes, I do/^ 
 
 " Well then, so do I, but I do it in French, that's 
 all. Mochu means Senhor in that language." 
 
 " Ah ! " replied Pereira, appearing to be con- 
 vinced; "^^that is it then; I thought it was some- 
 thing* else." 
 
 " Jiique," observed Meyer, ^'^get the things ready, 
 we are going to the woods at once." 
 
 " Oome with me," proposed the Mineiro in an 
 insinuating* voice. " I will show you places where 
 there are bichos without end." 
 
 " With much pleasure," replied the German, 
 and, turning towards his mau, he continued : 
 " Hurry, Jiique. Put aside your smoke. Get 
 ready the tin boxes, chloroform, and net. Hurry, 
 man, hurry ! " 
 
 Instigated by these words, Jose Pinho rushed 
 about the room as though distraught with the 
 perplexity of the demands. 
 
 " My glasses," added the naturalist. '^ The sack 
 for the plants j the tube for the beetles. Come^ 
 
 k2
 
 132 INNOCENCU. 
 
 come^ hurry ! There^ I will help you." And, in 
 his turn, he commenced to search for the required 
 objects and prepare for the occasion. To a broad 
 belt, which he slung across his breast, he attached 
 two or three small leather-covered cases, one of 
 which contained a silver cup and chain, another, 
 a many-bladed knife. To a waist-belt he suspended 
 a wicker-work-covered flask of aquadente, which 
 he had purchased in passing through the town of 
 Sant' Anna do Paranahyba. Not content with 
 the weight of these appendages to his person, he 
 further added a hunting knife, a short sword, and 
 a revolver. After making all these arrangements 
 to his satisfaction (but to the great surprise of 
 Pereira, and even of Cyrino), he removed his 
 spectacles and replaced them with a pair of very 
 large convex smoked glasses, as a protection to 
 his eyes from the glare of the sun, against which 
 he also armed himself with another singular pro- 
 tector — a broad rins' of stiff white cloth lined with 
 green, through which he passed the crown of his 
 Chili hat, the brim serving to support the ring. 
 
 In this rig, Meyer was the most extraordinar}^- 
 looking person that any Christian could meet with 
 in any of the surrounding three hundred leagues; 
 nevertheless, Pereira felt offended with all those 
 preparations, which he looked on as witchcraft.
 
 SUSPICIONS. 133 
 
 *''See," lie whispered to Cyrino, ''how this 
 magician is ornamentiug himself ! But you don't 
 humbug me, oh, no you don't, Senhor German of 
 my sins." 
 
 At this moment the naturalist glanced about ta 
 see if anything was yet wanting to complete his 
 equipment. " I am ready now," he at last ex- 
 claimed, "and very anxious to get into the 
 woods." 
 
 "The carrapatos"^ will set you a-tingling," 
 muttered Pereira. 
 
 " Ah ! My gloves," said Meyer. " Jiique, look 
 for them in No. 2 trunk in the left-hand further 
 
 corner.'^ 
 
 The servant produced a pair of well-worn 
 capacious white woollen gloves, into which the 
 hands of the German dived in one movement. 
 
 " ISTow, Sim Senhor," he exclaimed, with anima- 
 tion, as he announced his readiness for departure, 
 and uttering a sonorous and prolonged " Humph,'' 
 he seized his butterfly net, but pausing a moment 
 and placing a finger to his brow. " Ah ! " he 
 exclaimed, " The wine, I was nearly forgetting it. 
 The wine for your daughter, Senhor Pereira, your 
 lovely daughter." 
 
 * The carrapatos are exceedingly irritating ticks which frequent 
 the Brazilian bush.
 
 134 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Tlie Mineiro shrugged liis shoulders impatiently, 
 and observed aside to Cyrino : " He pretended to 
 forget. Look at that now, eh ! But this bicho 
 won't throw dust in my eyes, oh, no he won^'t, not 
 if I know it." 
 
 As he received the bottle of wine from the hands 
 of Jose Pinho, he added aloud, " Thank you very 
 much for your present, Senhor Meyer, but if — 
 if you cannot spare it, the little one will have to 
 get cured without it." 
 
 "No, no, no, no," replied the Saxon with a 
 series of negatives that seemed as if they would 
 have no end. 
 
 "In this world," muttered Pereira to himself, 
 " no one drives home a charge of shot without the 
 wadding ; but with Sertanejos * one does not play 
 the fool." 
 
 " This," said Cyrino, taking the bottle iu his 
 hand, '^will complete the cure with certainty." 
 Avoiding any pronunciation of the name or quality 
 of the person whom he was treating, he added, 
 " She ought to have a little appetite to-day, and 
 may get up for a short time." 
 
 " At mid-day, then," Pereira suggested to Cyrino, 
 in a very low voice, " you send to call the girl and 
 give her the medicine. Do you hear ? I have 
 * Inhabitants of the Sertao.
 
 SUSPICIONS. 135 
 
 told tliem already inside there. But I liave to 
 keep a sharp eye on the big bicho. He seems like 
 a puma waiting for a wild deer of the plains. I 
 say^ don't you think this wine has some witchcraft 
 in it, eh?" 
 
 His companion energetically repudiated such a 
 possibility. 
 
 " Well, I don't know that, I am not so sure. 
 These ' inamoratos ' are capable of anything. 
 Have you never heard of the love pills and 
 potions, eh ? Now tell me have you never ? " 
 
 " Do not disturb yourself, Senhor Pereira,'' 
 replied Cyrino, " I will examine the liquid, but I 
 am certain that there is nothing noxious in it.'"' 
 
 " Very well then, exactly at mid-day call Maria 
 Conga or Tico. 'Nocencia will somehow drag 
 herself here, and the doctor will give her a dose." 
 
 " What ! To leave her room already !" observed 
 Cyrino, in a tone of consternation. " No, ESenhor, 
 that I will not consent to. I will go and give her 
 the medicine. It will cost me nothing.'^ 
 
 Pereira appeared to be perplexed at the 
 suggestion. 
 
 " I don't know," he said thoughtfully, but 
 raising his head as an idea seemed to suddenly 
 strike him, he continued : " Very well, I will 
 return here from the plantation, but if I do not
 
 136 INNOCENCU. 
 
 appear, tlien you just step round and make lier 
 take a dose. As to tliis yellow German, I will 
 take liim a long way and not bring- liim back 
 until very late, and lie will be so done up witli liis 
 walk that lie will think only of sleeping/' 
 
 Witli Pereira occurred a natural, yet comical, 
 fact in the sinsfularities of tlie moral world. As 
 liis suspicions of the intentions of the innocent 
 Meyer increased to exaggerated proportions, he, 
 at the same time, felt an unlimited trust in that 
 other man who was also an absolute stranger, and 
 who at first had caused him to take as many pre- 
 cautions as he was now doing with the other. 
 
 Yet withal, in the inevitable struggles of life in 
 which we sometimes find ourselves committed, 
 there is always a certain innate craving for help, a 
 certain desire to meet with some one to aid us, 
 either by strength or counsel, even when a thought- 
 ful reserve or a sympathetic caution prompts us 
 to resist the intervention of those allies of the 
 moment. 
 
 Add to this the temperament of Pereira — one 
 predisposed to open-heartedness and garrulity — 
 and then the reason of his doings and sayings m 
 relation to his two guests, Cyrino de Campos and 
 Wilhelm Tembcl Meyer, will easily l)o compre- 
 hended.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 REALITY. 
 
 After Cyrino liad seen Pereira and liis two com- 
 panions proceed along a stony footpatli in the 
 direction of tlie plantations, and finally disappear 
 behind the orange grove, and as soon as he was 
 thus assured that he was alone, he gave way to the 
 feelings that so strongly agitated him. Sometimes 
 pacing the room with rapid and unquiet strides, 
 sometimes meditating as he lingered with halting- 
 steps, at last he went out into the yard, and with 
 uncovered head, and with his hand shading his 
 eyes fx'om the torrid rays of the sun, he stared 
 with a fixed gaze alternately in one or another 
 direction, like one demented. 
 
 The day promised to be very warm, for on every 
 side resounded the inevitable indicators of ap- 
 proaching heat, the whirr-whirr and whistle and
 
 138 INNOCENCU. 
 
 drone of countless cicidas, while from far away 
 over tlie plains echoed the noisy clamour of the 
 Seriemas (the snake-eating secretary bird of South 
 America) , resembling the noise of a pack of hounds 
 in full cry. Cyrino turned his face to the sun, 
 then_, dizzy with the bright glare, and clasping his 
 hands over his dazzled eyes, he returned to the 
 room and recommenced his restless walk. 
 
 Why rested not the youth ? He had already 
 slung a hammock, and, gently swinging to and 
 fro in the breeze, it seemed to invite him to a 
 comfortable siesta. 
 
 Why did he not imitate the proceedings of 
 some little grunters, which, unceremoniously en- 
 tering the room in search of a cool shade from the 
 fiery sun outside, had found a snug corner, and 
 were now audibly snoring, prisoners of delightful 
 sleep ? Outside, the sun shone with resplendent 
 brilliancy, while the shadows of the trees became 
 gradually smaller and smaller. All the animals 
 of the farm prepared for repose. A mare, with 
 her foal, deserted her distant pasture, and sought 
 a shelter from the fierce rays of the sun in the 
 shade of the side of the house, where she remained 
 panting. 
 
 To the enervating effect of the summer at- 
 mosphere was added the drowsy influence of the
 
 REALITT. J39 
 
 monotonous and nasal singing of Cyrino's atten- 
 dants, who, lazily reclining in the barn close by, 
 accompanied their sleepy refrains on tri-cord 
 guitars. 
 
 Meanwhile, the young man resisted all these 
 drowsy influences, and, with increasing restless- 
 ness, he continually consulted his watch, taking it 
 from his pocket and returning it at almost every 
 instant. The seconds, the minutes, the hours 
 passed by. Finally, with a deep sigh of relief and 
 satisfaction, he cried: 
 
 " Mid-day ! Ah, I thought it would never 
 arrive ! " 
 
 Transformed by animation, he at once went out 
 into the yard and called aloud : " Maria ! Oh ! 
 Maria Conga ! " 
 
 No one replied. The dogs only barked. Cyrino, 
 after waiting some time, proceeded to the gate in 
 the fence which separated the grounds of the 
 family quarters from the rest of the farm. Hero 
 he again called : "' Oh, Maria ! Maria ! are you 
 asleep, old woman ? " 
 
 Seeing that his cries elicited no reply, he passed 
 onwards in the direction of the back door of the 
 house, slowly however, as though in fear. 
 
 " Oh, Maria ! Halloa, Aunty ! Ho there ! 
 House ahoy ! " he clamoured.
 
 140 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 Finally appeared, not the old slave, but the 
 dwarf Tico, who, with an imperious movement of 
 his head, seemed to inquire the cause of alarm, 
 
 "■ Where is Maria Conga ? " Cyriuo asked, as he 
 approached. 
 
 Tico, with a few but expressive gestures, indi- 
 cated that the black had gone to the stream to 
 wash linen. 
 
 ^' And is there no one else in the house ? " 
 The dwarf assumed an expression of pride, and 
 indicated that lie was there, and bestowed an 
 angry glance at the imprudent inquirer. 
 
 " Good," replied Cyrino, laughing. " Now, little 
 man, you go inside and say to the Dona that the 
 hour has arrived to take the medicine. I have 
 the wine with me, but I require some coffee to be 
 prepared at once." 
 
 Makina- a sic:n to the so-called doctor to wait 
 outside, Tico disappeared. 
 
 '' What ? Wait out here in the sun," exclaimed 
 Cyrino, in disgust. " Now that is too bad ! 
 What a strange little manikin it is ! " 
 
 Without further ceremony he pushed open the 
 door and entered the house. Presently he heard 
 footsteps, and Innocencia was then seen approach- 
 ing. She was wrapped in a large mantle of varied 
 colours; and, pushed back from her brow, her long
 
 REALITY. 141 
 
 hair hung in sable masses about her, and^ by 
 contrast, increased the joallor of her countenance, 
 which, with the dark circles around her eyes, 
 still denoted great weakness. But when she per- 
 ceived Cyrino the damask cheeks blushed, like 
 rose-buds impatient to expand into bloom and cry- 
 ing for admiration of their charms. 
 
 On reaching the doorway she stopped, and, 
 leaning against the door-post, showed by glances 
 of hesitation that she was undecided what to do. 
 
 Cyrino, on seeing her, nervously advanced a 
 few steps towards her, until he in his turn also 
 halted by the side of an old-fashioned high-back 
 chair, an ancient and solid piece of furniture 
 brought by Pereira from his old home in Piumhy. 
 It was with considerable effort that he articulated: 
 
 " Then — Donazinha — Hoav are you ? — Do you 
 feel better ? " 
 
 ^' Better, thank 3"0u,^' responded Innocencia, in 
 a flute-like but very tremulous voice. 
 
 " Have you partaken of anything- ? " 
 
 " Yes, Senhor ; the wing of a fowl, and with 
 some appetite." 
 
 " Do you still feel weak ? " 
 
 " The weariness is passing away." 
 
 Meanwhile, as Cyrino gradually regained his 
 calmness, he slowly approached nearer and nearer
 
 142 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 to tlie maiden^ an action wliicli seemed to cause 
 her to timidly cling to tlie friendly door-post as 
 to a shelter. Presently tliey stood face to face, 
 slie on one side of the doorway and lie by the 
 other, and both of them were so evidently embar- 
 rassed that there was ample reason for the dwarf 
 Tico's look of astonishment, as, bolt upright on his 
 little legs, he stood in front of them. By an effort, 
 Cyrino mastered his emotion, and, outwardly calm 
 in his manner, he continued : 
 
 "Well, Dona, the hour has arrived for taking 
 the medicine." 
 
 " Already, Senhor Doctor ? " implored Inno- 
 cencia. 
 
 " Yes, Dona." 
 
 '• But I have nothing the matter with mo now." 
 
 "You may think so, but it is necessary to en- 
 tirely eradicate the evil. Suppose it was to return, 
 what a poor doctor you would take me to be." 
 
 " The remedy is so unpleasant," she observed. 
 
 " It is not nice, truly, but it will give you back 
 your health. With a little courage, you will be 
 able to take it without much trouble. Let me 
 share it with you ^' 
 
 " Oh, no ! " protested Innocencia. 
 
 *' It is but to show you, that — that I will do any- 
 thing for you."
 
 REALITY. 
 
 f43 
 
 The girl crimsoned witli a blusli and raised lier 
 eyes in surprise, but immediately lowered ber gaze 
 as she met the earnest glances of Cyrino. 
 
 '' The medicine ! " she at last suggested, in a low 
 
 voice. 
 
 Ah ! certainly/^ exclaimed Cyrino. ''' Go, 
 Tico, go and fetch coffee from the kitchen, bring 
 also a cup and saucer. Do you not under- 
 stand ? " 
 
 The dwarf, however, replied only by a glance of 
 defiance, and moved not. 
 
 "Are you deaf? " inquired Cyrino. 
 
 "■^No," responded Innocencia. '^'^Tico sometimes 
 shams like this from wilfulness." In a soft voice 
 and with a tender glance she said to the little 
 man, " Go, Tico, it is for me, do you hear ? ■"' 
 
 The physiognomy of the dwarf was immediately 
 transformed. A pleasant smile played upon his 
 lips, and he nodded his head two or three times in 
 afiirmative response, but quickly his rugged little 
 brows were knitted into a frown and his eyes 
 moved with restless glances of indecision. 
 
 Innocencia had to repeat her request more 
 strongly : "^ I have already asked you once, Tico, 
 must I say again, go and fetch the coffee." 
 
 At this order he hesitated no more, and slowly 
 went away, glancing backwards several times ere
 
 144 INNOCENCU. 
 
 lie entered tlie kitclien, where he delayed but a 
 short time. 
 
 Cyrino^ in this interval, examined the pulse of 
 Innocencia, who held out her wrist as far as pos- 
 sible. But lie^ overcoming the weak resistance of 
 the girl; covered with ardent kisses the hand he 
 had secured. 
 
 '' Men Deos ! " she stammered, '' what is this ? 
 Look; Tico comes." 
 
 The 3^outh immediately stepped back a pace or 
 two^. and, in order to cover his confusion, he ad- 
 vanced towards the dwarf, who brought a tin mug 
 in one hand and a cup and spoon in the other. 
 
 '' Thafs right/' said Cyrino, " put them all on 
 the table." 
 
 Rapidly prej)aring the remed}^, he presented it 
 with an unsteady hand to Innocencia, who, without 
 hesitation, drank it at a draught. 
 
 Now, whether from the effect of the excitement 
 she had experienced in her state of debility, or 
 whether that Avas the hour when the ague usually 
 returned, certain it is that she had to suddenly grasp 
 the door-frame to prevent herself from falling. 
 
 " Ah ! The Dona is fainting," pitifully ex- 
 claimed Cyrino. 
 
 The dwarf hastened to her assistance, but Cyrino 
 clasped her in his arms and her head reclined upon
 
 REALITY. 145 
 
 his breast. His anxiety, mingled witli an inex- 
 pressible feeling of ecstasy at tlie situation* 
 created such an emotion within him that his 
 laboured breathing soon restored her to conscious- 
 ness and brought a flush to her pallid face. 
 
 '^ I am better now/' she murmured, as she 
 endeavoured to remove herself from the grasp of 
 Cyrino. 
 
 ''Do not vainly imagine you have recovered,*' 
 he protested. " Let me lead you to that chair." 
 
 With all due tenderness he assisted her to a seat^ 
 and removed fi-om her face and shoulders the lono- 
 tresses of disarrano-ed hair. 
 
 " "What a mass of hair it is ! " he exclaimed, half 
 smiling. 
 
 Tico followed all that action of the scene with 
 marked attention. On seeing Inuocencia become 
 unconscious, he raised a strange dumb cry of 
 despair, and afterwards, when he followed her to 
 the chair, he knelt before her and contemplated 
 her with wistful glances of anxiety. 
 
 Cyrino endeavoured to utilise the occasion to 
 attempt a reconciliation with the dwarf, 
 
 '' You are anxious, eh, Tico ? It is nothing 
 really. Your mistress will soon be well.'''' 
 
 The dwarf, on hearing this exordium, promptly 
 rose to his feet, and replied to the sympathetic 
 
 L
 
 146 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 announcement of tlie young man witli sucli a 
 look of contempt and indifference, as thougli lie 
 would say, '' Do not interfere witli me ; I wish 
 to have nothing to do with you, you doctor of 
 mystery." 
 
 " Now," said Cyrino, addressing Innocencia, 
 '^ you must take a few drops of wine, and you will 
 soon see what strength it will give you." 
 
 Uncorking the bottle with the aid of a long 
 pointed knife he carried in his waist-belt, he 
 poured a portion of the wine into a cup and 
 oilered it to his patient. 
 
 The invalid moistened her lips with a little and 
 thanked the attentive youth with an enchanting 
 smile. 
 
 Decidedly that medico pleased her. He had 
 cured her of her physical ailments, and now he 
 attended to her mind. Few men had she hitherto 
 seen, except her father, Manecao, and the old 
 blacks ; and, absolutely ignorant of most things 
 and of the ways of the world, well might she 
 think that no man could compare in grace and 
 beauty with the one now before her. Besides, 
 what a mysterious bond of sympathy attached her 
 to that stranger, arrived from she knew not 
 whence, and about to depart, and perhaps never 
 to be seen by her again.
 
 REALITT. 147 
 
 Who knows but tliat the gentleness and the 
 kindness which Cyrino had showed in his actions 
 towards her were not the only cause of the new 
 sentiment, which, really unknown to her, was as 
 suddenly born in her breast as the flowers of the 
 campos burst into bloom after the rain ? A sense 
 of gratitude also added its influence to her 
 feelings. 
 
 As these thoughts passed rapidly through the 
 mind of Innocencia, she raised her grand and 
 limpid eyes and gazed at Cyrino with a glance so 
 frank and clear that it seemed to form a broad 
 and open entrance to the inmost recesses of her 
 mind. 
 
 "I feel so well now," she said, in her soft, 
 •clear, and musical voice, " so light in my body, 
 that it seems impossible I can ever again be 
 miserable." 
 
 " No, certainly not," exclaimed Cyrino ; " never 
 
 more. Besides, here am I, and " 
 
 The commencement of the doubtless would-be 
 pretty speech was interrupted by the arrival of 
 Maria Conga, the old negress, returning from the 
 stream with a huge bundle of linen, which she 
 unceremoniously commenced to extend on lono- 
 horizontal bamboos placed on forked sticks stuck 
 in the earthen floor of the adjoining room. 
 
 l2
 
 148 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Cyrino jDi'epared to depart. 
 
 " Now/' said lie, as lie took tlie hand of Inno- 
 ceiicia, "keep quiet for a little while. Later on, 
 take some broth, and — ah, Innocencia, do you 
 wish me well ? " 
 
 " Oh, Maria Santissima ! Avhy should I not wish 
 you well ? " she ingenuously inquired. " Mece * 
 never did me aiij^ harm.^^ 
 
 " I ? " ejaculated Cyrino, with energy ; " I do 
 you harm ? Eather Avould I die ! Yes, Dona, 
 from my soul I- ■" 
 
 Without concluding, he suddenly bade her 
 " Adeus," and departed. 
 
 With a slow step he left the room, and when, 
 outside the house, he passed a window close to 
 which Innocencia was seated, he took advantage 
 of the opportunity for a last word. 
 
 " Take care," he advised, as he leaned on the 
 window-sill, " take care to avoid the night- 
 dew." 
 
 "Nhor-sim"' (Sim, Senhor). 
 
 " Do not drink any milk." 
 
 " So Mece has already told me." 
 
 * Mece (pronounced Messcy) is a provincial corruption of Vossa 
 Merco, i.e. your Grace, j'our Worship, a term of civility used hy 
 Brazilians to every well-to-do pei'son.
 
 REAL ITT. 149 
 
 '' Eat only sun-dried meat.'' 
 " I know/' 
 
 " Then adeus — adeus, thou beautiful girl ! " 
 With an effort he tore himself away from where 
 he felt he could remain until old ao-e Aveakened 
 
 O 
 
 his limbs.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OP MEYER. 
 
 Towards the close of evening, Meyer, Jose Pinlio, 
 and Pereira returned, accompanied by three very 
 old slaves ; those from their labours in the field, 
 the former from their entomological excursions. 
 
 The Mineiro entered with a merry face, and 
 with boisterous shouts awakened Cyrino, who 
 meanwhile had fallen asleep to dream all the 
 time of his graceful patient. 
 
 '' Ho ! ho ! there, my friend ! Ho ! ho ! doctor," 
 shouted Pereira in a resounding voice. " This is 
 what is life, eh ? Whilst we are working, I and 
 Jose's Mochu, you are asleep on a downy couch." 
 
 " It is true,'' assented the young man. " You 
 had hardly gone away when here I laid me down 
 to stretch my limbs, and, until now, I have had 
 one long slumber."
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF METER. 151 
 
 " Aud the medicine for tlie girl ? " inquiretj 
 Pereira, lowering his voice. 
 
 " Dear me ! I really quite forgot, but it will do 
 no harm — that is^ if she has no return of fever. 
 Ah ! waitj let me see. yes, now I remember. I 
 gave it to her, of course I did — what was I thinking 
 about ? — but I am still half stupid with sleep." 
 
 Pereira laughed aloud, and observed, ^' These 
 doctors kill people as heedlessly as if they were 
 only wild dogs of the forest. In an instant they 
 will forget whether or no they gave medicine to a 
 Christian.'" 
 
 Seeing that Meyer had left the room, he sud- 
 denly altered his tone, and proceeded to observe 
 very quickly and in a low voice : 
 
 " What do you think ? Would you believe it ? 
 That G-erman has been all day long trying to 
 converse about the girl ! " 
 
 '' Eeally ? " 
 
 '' It is so — aud — and here am I bound by my 
 offer to take him to dinner inside there ! Not if 
 I know it, oh no ! He may get cross and angry 
 if he likes at my ways, but he does not put a foot 
 again in a room of my family, not if I know it. 
 Heaven deliver me ! " 
 
 At supper time, Meyer expressed some surprise 
 at again seeing the meal spread in the front room ;
 
 152 INNOCENCU. 
 
 not tliat lie had any motives for desiring another 
 place, but being- so methodical in all his habits, 
 he had fixed in his mind the promise of Pereira, 
 and thought it his duty to remind him of it. 
 
 The excuses promptly tendered by the Mineiro 
 had been already thought of, and were, moreover, 
 endorsed by Cyrino, who explained that he had 
 recommended that the patient should be kept 
 perfectly quiet and almost in solitude, 
 
 Peirera expressed his acknowledgment in the 
 most open-hearted manner. " I see," he whispered 
 to Cyrino as he pressed his hand, '^that the doctor 
 is a serious man, one on whom one can depend. 
 Let it be, Manecao will have to be your friend. 
 That — that is certain. Good people deserve to be 
 known and esteemed. But oh ! do look at that 
 owl there, eh ? What a cunning one! eh? Never 
 mind, he shall pay for it/^ 
 
 If Pereira appeared troubled, the naturalist, on 
 the contrary, was a picture of placid contentment. 
 
 '' Senhor Doctor,'''' he declared to Cyrino at the 
 supper table, " I am really very contented with ray 
 stay here. I have found to-day more curious little 
 bichos than I have mot with in all the zones 
 through which I have travelled." 
 
 ''You cannot imagine," intei'rnpted Pereira, 
 and addressing himself to Cyrinc, " what this
 
 THE JDVENIURES OF METER. 153 
 
 Senlior does wlion lie is in tlie woods. He will 
 tumble into some hole and break his blessed neck 
 some of these days^ for he tears along with his 
 nose in the air and never looks where he is going. 
 I don't know how it is that he does not get his 
 eyes poked out, for he takes no notice of the 
 bi'anches or anything else ; all he wants is to place 
 his hand on the blessed insects. I have already 
 cautioned him several times, nov/ his head, now 
 hisi hand.^' 
 
 The warnings of the Mineiro proved, indeed, 
 to be judicious and called for, so much so, that, 
 when at this moment Meyer happened to turn 
 round, Cyrino noticed for the first time that his 
 face was cut and very much scratched. 
 
 " What is this, Senlior Meyer ? " he inquired, in 
 surprise. " Have you been having a tussle with 
 some jaguar '^ " 
 
 "^ Oh ! It is nothing," phlegmatically responded 
 the German. 
 
 " And your clothes are all soiled from head to 
 foot with clay." 
 
 Pereira burst out lauo-hino'. 
 
 '' There is such a story about this man," said he. 
 " I will just tell you what happened to hiin. My 
 friend, have you not heard of the saying, ' Trust 
 in the Virgin and don't run, or see the fall you
 
 154 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 will have ! ' Oli^ it lias been such a day ! Why, I 
 just laughed until I could laugh no more. Only 
 imagine seeing, as I have already told you, this 
 Senhor Meyer tearing and leaping through the 
 woods as though he were a deer of the forest. 
 Now, Jose Pinho, who has got his head screwed 
 on the right way, he always keeps to a clean path, 
 he does " 
 
 " Lazy fellow," observed Meyer. 
 
 " Wise he is though,'''' replied the Mineiro ; " but 
 as I Avas saying, here was the Senhor with his 
 leaps and bounds like a wounded tapir. No 
 sooner did any flying bicho appear, than, zas ! 
 away he goes after it, regardless of boughs, 
 branches, thorns, or any coiled up-snake on the 
 ground ; but with that net of his he always cap- 
 tured the little bicho. Well, I went oif to see 
 after the blacks, and left the man dashing through 
 the bush, while Jose, in a shady nook, was soon 
 snoring like one possessed. 
 
 " I ! no Senhor," protested Jose Piuho. 
 " Yes, you,^^ corroborated Meyer, with more or 
 less energy. " Lazy fellow ! Come, pass the 
 tobacco." 
 
 " Very well," continued Peroira, " two or three 
 hours afterwards the Mochu returned in the state 
 you see him in now, and bringing with him a box 
 full of wild bichos."
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF METER. 155 
 
 '' Yes, and are tliey pretty ones ? " inquired 
 Cyrino. 
 
 " All gone/' replied Meyer, in a dolorous tone ; 
 " my labour was all lost. I liad captured five new 
 species — a fall " 
 
 " Oh ! Do let me tell tlie story/' impatiently in- 
 terrupted Pereira. " Ho ! lio ! I lauglied, oli, 
 liow I laughed ! " and, to confirm the assertion, he 
 again burst into roars of laughter, in which he was 
 joined by Jose Pinho and Meyer, "The Mochu 
 seemed very much delighted with the results of 
 his work, and showed me with such pride his box 
 full of beetles and all kinds of bichos, even to 
 cicadas, just as if he had got a king inside it. He 
 had something of everything. Afterwards, when 
 we were returning" from the plantation, he saw a 
 red ' insect ' perched on a rotten tree trunk, and 
 straightway hurried off to to capture it. I cried out 
 to him, ^Look out, there is a pit there ! and the tree 
 is rotten, and you will roll down the precipice so 
 that not even your soul you will save.' Bah ! The 
 man is as obstinate as a pack-mulo. I shouted to 
 him, ' Take care, Mochu ! ' But there ! He com- 
 menced to clamber over a network of vines which 
 covered the mouth of a pit as deep as anything in this 
 world. Just as he was about to place his hand on 
 the said red bicho, he caught hold of the rotten
 
 156 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 tvee, and — zas ! — down he went, uttering a screech, 
 like the cry of a cotia. He had just time to clutch 
 at the brambles, and there he hung between life 
 and death, calling out, ' Juque ! Juque ! ' I, when 
 I saw this, sent in all haste to the plantation for 
 a long pole, and if it had not arrived soon, 
 the Senhor Meyer and all his bichos together 
 would have rolled down to the bottom of that 
 
 abyss " 
 
 " No," replied the German, '■ the bichos rolled 
 down first, the box open and its contents all go 
 to the bottom." 
 
 " All right then. Well, the Mochu clung to that 
 pole tooth and nail, whilst we slowly hauled him 
 up, slowly and fearsome like — eh ! so fearful, Maria 
 Santissima ! " 
 
 After a short pause he continued : 
 " We have not yet come to the funniest part of 
 it. Ah ! you can just prepare yourself for a good 
 lu)up of laughter. When the Mochu found his 
 feet on solid earth, he commenced to jump about 
 like a crazy goat, to here, to there, he leaped and 
 leaped, again and again, and screeched and 
 squealed as if he Avas being skinned. He was — 
 ho ! ho ! ho ! ha ! ha ! ha ! — covered with novata 
 ants." * 
 
 * Tlic sting of these ants is extremely puinful.
 
 " He commenceii to jump about like a crazy goat." 
 
 p. 156
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF METER. 157 
 
 "Yes," exclaimed Meyer savagely^ '■'rotten 
 wood ants, Mein Gott ! I jump, I groan, I tear off 
 mine clothes until I was naked as when I was born. 
 Horrible tilings ! Oh, ants of the diabo ! They 
 swarmed all over my body, and such pain." 
 
 Pereira, Oyrino, and Jose Pinho received with 
 renewed shouts of laughter this violent outburst. 
 
 '^ Perhaps," observed the Mineiro, "this may 
 cure you of your mania of not listening to those 
 who knoAv about these things," and turning to 
 Cyrino : " The truth is, that his body — ah ! what 
 a body it is, Senhor Doctor, so white ! — became so 
 swollen and blistered that we had to rub him all 
 over with tobacco leaves. Afterwards he took a 
 bath in the stream." 
 
 "All would have been well," observed Meyer, 
 " if the box had not opened and dropped all mv 
 work to the bottom of the abyss." 
 
 " Well, well, we will see to that to-morrow," his 
 servant philosophically observed. 
 
 Pereira, recovered from his fit of hilarity, ap- 
 proached close to Cyrino, and observed in a low 
 voice : 
 
 " Ah, doctor ! Do you know I had half a mind 
 to let that German drop into the pit. If he had 
 not been my guest and recommended by my 
 brother, on my word of honour, I would have given
 
 158 INNOCENCU. 
 
 him a sliove towards 'inferno/ I wo aid indeed; 
 and you know I am no milk-sop." 
 
 " But why ? " inquired Cyrino, simulating sur- 
 prise, 
 
 "Yet you ask me why! Because the man did 
 nothing but talk of 'Nocencia all day long. He 
 again told me that she was very beautiful, and a 
 lot of other things — asked if she was married, and, 
 if not, he said it was necessary for the welfare of 
 women to get married, and then I don't know 
 what else. This is an abandoned brute — an 
 * inamorato.' " 
 
 " Nonsense, Senhor Pereira," protested Cyrino. 
 
 " I tell you he is. Do you think I am a snake 
 with two heads and cannot see ? * Ah ! What a 
 weight of care is a daughter, and one who is 
 already promised. This is confusion indeed ! 
 What my son-in-law Manecao would say to it all, I 
 know not. 
 
 " He could say nothing," replied the young 
 man ; ^' and besides, there is no want of those who 
 want your daughter." 
 
 " Thank heaven, no, there is not, certainly ! 
 
 * Tlio Ami)his-bccna, a common suakc .allied to the clow-worm, 
 which is popularly supposed to have a head at each extrcmitj-, but 
 without eyes. — [Trausl.j
 
 THE JDFENTURES OF METER. 159 
 
 But I do not intend tliat slie sliould be handed 
 from liand to hand. She marries Manecao^ or " 
 
 " Or what ? " inquired Cyrino uneasily, but 
 simulating indifference. 
 
 " Or I will kill any one who tries to tempt her 
 to do otherwise. With me, no one shall play the 
 fool. Ought I not to take a thousand precautions, 
 when I see this yellow-haired foreigner plying his 
 monkey-tricks on the Aveaknesses of women ? " 
 
 " Until now he has clone nothing," 
 
 " Wall ! What would you ? Until now he has 
 done nothing* but talk of the poor girl, whom may 
 the Senhora Sant^ Anna ever protect ! I know 
 him now, and may monkeys eat me if ever he sets 
 eyes on ""JSTocencia again ! " In a still lower voice 
 Pereira continued : '^ I sounded Jose Pinho about 
 his master. Said I to him, ' Your patrao is a 
 diabc amongst the women, eh ? He is a knowing 
 one, eh ? ^ ' No, Senhor,' he replied at once. I 
 swallowed that lie, and said to him, ' Nonsense, 
 you Carioca have had dust thrown in your eyes.' 
 ' I ? ' said he ; ' not likely.' ' Then have you not 
 seen what your jsatrao has been doing ? ' ' He 
 has been a saint,' returned the humbug. ' In 
 Rio?' 'Yes.' 'In the Corte ? ' 'Yes, in the 
 Corte. But when he was there he went every 
 night to a Beer Garden and chatted and supped
 
 i6o INNOCENCU. 
 
 Avitli women there, all liandsome and well dressed, 
 some with their throats and arms bare " 
 
 " He related all that ? '''' observed Cyrino, doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " He did/' Pereira affirmed. " See what a man 
 he is ! Eh ? He is a rascal ! This night and 
 henceforward I will sleep in this room and watch 
 if ho dares to move from his bed. Ah, if I could 
 only — I would fall on him with a cudgel, so that 
 his ribs would be knocked into little pieces." 
 
 The imprudent stories of Jose Pinho completed 
 the last stone to the edifice of suspicion which the 
 imagination of Pereira had so rapidly raised to 
 the detriment of Meyer. What vestiges of truth 
 really existed in them related only to some hours 
 of leisure during his stay in Rio, which the natu- 
 ralist passed in the consumption of lager beer in 
 the German cafe, Cidade de Coblentz, where, at 
 times, he entered into jocular but innocent con- 
 versation with certain persons of the feminine sex, 
 frequenters of that establishment, and of manners 
 and customs not perhaps of the most rigorously- 
 moral character.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE DYSPEPTIC PATIENT. 
 
 According to his intention, Pereira that night 
 brought his hammock to the guests' room with 
 the full resolv e of initiating his system of vigilance 
 (although, in any case, it was absolutely useless 
 in relation to the person suspected) . Anyhow, he 
 had barely reposed in his easy couch more than 
 a few minutes, before the sonorous sounds of his 
 slumber mingled with those of the heavy breath- 
 ing of Meyer. 
 
 If he had not trusted so much to the watchful- 
 ness of his eyes, or rather, if sleep had not, as 
 usual, attacked him so irresistibly, he would 
 naturally, and in a short time, have had his at- 
 tention attracted by the strange proceedings of 
 Cyrino. For really, the manner in which he 
 passed his nights was alone sufficient to create 
 doubts in the most unsuspecting of minds. Ever 
 
 M
 
 1 62 INNOCENCU. 
 
 restless, lie would continually turn on liis coucIl 
 and heave such sighs as only those in dire or 
 imagined tribulations can utter, or he would arise 
 and go out to the yard, to pace to and fro, smoking 
 cigarettes without end, until the cocks on the 
 barn or in the trees hard by announced the first 
 rays of dawn. 
 
 It was indeed a lacerating passion that filled 
 the breast of that young man. One of those 
 sudden and irrepressible passions that dominate 
 and overpower the mind, thrilling every nerve as 
 with electricity, and suffocating as the serpents 
 of the Laocoon. Knowing, as he did, all the 
 customs of the Sertao, so rigid in the absolute 
 yoke of prejudice, he foresaw so many difiiculties, 
 that if on the one hand they tended to dishearten 
 him, on the other those very difficulties acted as 
 so much fuel to the fire of his newly-borA but 
 already overpowering" sentiments. 
 
 " Heaven help me ! " he murmured to himself ; 
 ^'what I only desire is the friendship of Inno- 
 cencia. " It seems ages ago since I saw her. Ah ! if 
 I should see her no more, I would put an end to my 
 life." His heart throbbed violently. The blood 
 coursed through his veins with vertiginous rapidity, 
 obscuring his vision and flushing his face with 
 waves of buruiuor heat.
 
 THE DTSPEPTIC PATIENT. 163 
 
 '' Nossa Senliora da Abbadia ! " be cried, and 
 'clutching- bis bair in bis despair. " Save me in 
 tbis bour of trial ! Grant nae_, at least, bopes tbat 
 tbat girl may wisb me well — I desire no more. Ob, 
 tbat tbis fire tbat consumes me may find in ber 
 beart some responsive warmtb ! ^' 
 
 Tbis fervent prayer to tbe Saint of tbe special 
 devotion of Goyaz served for a wbile to calm tbe 
 shattered nerves of tbe youtb, and presently be 
 fell into a fitful slumber, yet only a few instants 
 afterwards to awaken witb a sudden start and 
 Taecome still more unnerved. 
 
 He was up and moving about wben Pereira 
 arose from bis bammock. '^Halloa!" tbe latter 
 observed, " you are an early riser to-day.^' 
 
 ''Well, it is not my babit," replied Cyrino, 
 " but I bave passed tbese last nigbts veiy badly." 
 
 " Truly, you do not look up to mucb.^' 
 
 " I believe tbe ague bas got bold of me." 
 
 " Now tbat is good ! Tben tbe doctor went 
 to borrow tbe ague of bis patient, eb ? But, look 
 you, you must pull yourself together, for to-day 
 some invalids will be here for you to ' inziminar.' * 
 Tbe news of joxxv arrival bas already spread 
 abroad, and tbe gathering of your pilgi-ims will 
 not be delayed much longer." 
 
 * A local corruption of "cxaminar,"' to examine. 
 M 2
 
 1 64 INNOCENCIA 
 
 " Here I await tliem." 
 
 ''Coellio, of course, will be the iirst to come. 
 Do not hesitate to ask him a tip-top price." 
 
 " No, I rather think I shall abandon my idea of 
 attending to this region, and despatch a messenger 
 to stop the arrival of these people." 
 
 '^ Now that only shows that the Senhor is a man 
 of pride and honour, not like a certain person that 
 I know, eh ? " On saying these words Pereira 
 glanced at the yet-slumbering Meyer and contem- 
 plated him attentively. 
 
 The Grerman was really well worthy of observa- 
 tion, independently of any other motive than one 
 of simple curiosity. 
 
 Extended on his back, one long arm and one 
 long leg rested on the ground on each side of his 
 narrow bed of trunks, and, owing to the incon- 
 venient position of his head, his chin was tilted 
 above the level of his brows, and his half-opened 
 mouth displayed a row of excellent teeth. 
 
 " Can't he snore, eh ? " murmured the Mineiro. 
 '^Ugh ! you rascal — you — you — but no, it is all the 
 same, you won^t humbug me." 
 
 As the assumptions of Pereira gradually assumed 
 the proportions of fixed ideas, Meyer, in the sim- 
 plicity of ignorance, inadvertently constantly fur- 
 nished elements to cause his host to become more
 
 THE DTSPEPTIC PATIENT. 165 
 
 and more assured of liis convictions. For instance, 
 at breakfast lie betliouglit him of innocently in- 
 quiring : 
 
 "And your daughter^ Senlior Pereira ? How is 
 she ? Is she better ? " 
 
 " What is better, Mochu ? " inquired the father, 
 ill-humouredly. 
 
 "Her health. Is it better ? " 
 " It is better. It is, it is," testily replied Pereira. 
 "It is quite good. She is about to make a 
 journey." 
 
 " A journey ? To where ? Is it to the town ? " 
 " Man, Mochu ! " ejaculated the Mineiro, in 
 o-reat irritation. "You are like an old woman, 
 you want to know everything." 
 
 With much vexation and some surprise Meyer 
 received this rude rebuff, yet, as he considered it 
 to be only expressive of annoyance at his appa- 
 rently unwarrantable curiosity, he duly hastened 
 to apologise with all sincerity, but unfortunately, 
 in terms which aggravated the situation. 
 
 " It is indeed true, Senhor Pereira," said he, 
 "ordinary politeness should not have prompted 
 me to say what I did, but excuse me, I pray ; but 
 really, your daughter is so interesting that I 
 cannot but think of her always. I have even 
 some presents for "
 
 1 66 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 " Keep tliem, then/-' growled Pereira, but he- 
 smotliered the reflection liis surly words implied in 
 a fit of cougliing, and^ in order to avoid a continua- 
 tion of tlie conversation, lie terminated the repast 
 by rising from the table, 
 
 " Here comes Coelho, doctor." lie exclaimed, on 
 glancing outside. " Slieeli ! How yellow he is ! 
 It is a long time since I have seen him. Pooh ! 
 He looks like a ghost from the other world. He 
 is the one we were talking about. Put the screw 
 
 on him, doctor, for he is a miserable sort of ." 
 
 Interrupting himself to greet the new arrival, he 
 cried. '^ Good eyes see you ! If it wore not for 
 having a medico in the house, friend Coelho, we 
 might never expect to see you this way, eh ? Is it 
 not so ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " dolefully replied the other, wdth a low 
 moan, " I am always so ill, I have no liking for 
 anything. But where is he ? The man ? " 
 
 " Here he is." 
 
 " I have been told that he has worked miracles. 
 He has made quite a name for himself over there 
 by Parnahyba. Do you know ? " 
 
 " That he had made a name there, no, but that 
 he is a marvellous surgeon I am certain, for in the 
 twinkling of an eye he put on her feet a member 
 of my household."
 
 THE DYSPEPTIC PATIENT. 167 
 
 " Ah ! if lie could but cure me — I know nou liow 
 I could tliank liira." 
 
 *■' Pay him/' promptly suggested Pereira, advo- 
 cating the interests of his guest. 
 
 '^ Yes, how — pay him ? " muttered the sick man, 
 with some hesitation. 
 
 " In any case, get off your animal." 
 
 He, whom the Mineiro called Coelho, entered 
 the front room and made his salutations to Cyrino 
 and Meyer. He was a man already in years, but 
 more asred throusch infirmities than with the lapse 
 of time. His brow was rugged with wrinklea, hi^ 
 cheeks swollen, the lips were almost colourless, 
 and his eyes were surrounded by puffy rings. 
 
 " Which one of the Senhores is the doctor ? " he 
 inquired. 
 
 " I am," replied Cyrino, assuming an air of im- 
 portance. 
 
 Pereira intervened with some amiability. " Take 
 a seat, Senhor Coelho," said he ; " there is no need 
 to hurry. Eest a little, Have you already break- 
 fasted ? " 
 
 '' The little I eat I have already eaten." 
 
 "Well, anyhow, just make yourself at home and 
 then talk with the doctor. But tell me, what is 
 there new up in town." 
 
 " Nothing that I know of. .But really for more
 
 1 68 INNOCENCU. 
 
 tlian a year I liave liad no news from tliere. Things 
 of the world now trouble me no more. Whoever 
 has no health loses the taste for everything. Ah ! 
 It is a calamity." 
 
 Whilst Coelho lugubriously delivered himself of 
 his complaints, Cyrino turned over the pages of 
 his inseparable Chernoviz, and took from his trunk 
 some dried herbs, which he placed on the table. 
 
 " The Senhor/' said he, addressing his patient, 
 ■'' is empalamado." * 
 
 " It is the truth, Senhor Doctor." 
 " I, who am not a physician," observed Pereira, 
 *' would have said so at once." 
 
 " Hush-sh, my friend ! " impatiently observed 
 Cyrino, in order to impose silence. 
 
 " The Senhor," he pompously continued, '^ has 
 had for many years repeated attacks of fever and 
 ague, followed in due course by loss of appetite. 
 A bloated and swollen appearance of the body 
 succeeded by emaciation. Little by little he con- 
 tinued to lose strength and energy." 
 
 " Perfectly right ! " murmured Coelho, who 
 followed with careful attention the march of the 
 diagnosis. 
 
 " Now the Senhor cannot eat, or rather has no 
 desire to do so. Is it not so ? " 
 
 * Any one suffering from chronic dyspepsia.
 
 THE DYSPEPTIC PATIENT. 169 
 
 " Exactly, Seiilior Doctor," groaned tlie patient. 
 
 " How this man has read in the books, eh ? ■" 
 whispered Pereira to Meyer, in a tone of admiration. 
 
 " Afterwards/' continued Cyrino, " you were 
 attacked by great, weakness, so much so that, 
 when you walked, you broke out into a profuse 
 perspiration accompanied by a trembling in all 
 your limbs. The spleen is congested, and so is the 
 liver. At night you experience difficulty in breath- 
 ing, more especially when seated. Sometimes you 
 cough very much, a dry cough,, like that of one 
 who is hoarse." 
 
 "Just so," exclaimed the sick man^ almost with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " Well," concluded Cyrino, " as I have already 
 told you. you are empalamado." 
 
 " And is there no cure ? " dolefully inquired 
 Coelho. 
 
 " There is, but the remedy is a violent one." 
 
 " Well, so long as it makes me well " 
 
 " Many people," replied Cyrino, " have 1 cured 
 in a worse state than you are in, but, I repeat, the 
 remedy is a violent one." 
 
 "I will take anything," declared Coelho; '^ but 
 for years I have had such a horror of medicine, 
 and from, none of it have I derived any benefit. 
 Well, we shall see "
 
 170 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 At this moment Cyrino altered tlie tone of his 
 voice, and^ glancing towards Pereira, lie observed, 
 " The Senhor well knows that this is my liveli- 
 hood." 
 
 The Mineiro applauded, with a nod of his head, 
 this entrance on business. 
 
 Not so, however, did Coelho, for he stuttered, 
 "Ah ! I am ready, but I am poor, very poor." 
 
 Pereira winked his eye with a comical expression 
 of incredulity. 
 
 " I must observe that it is my custom to receive 
 payment in two halves," continued Cyrino, and 
 strongly flushing as he added, " If I speak of that 
 subject now so hastily, it is because I need it. Do 
 you not think so, Senhor Meyer ? " 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," assented the Grerman. 
 " You have every right to it." 
 
 ''My friend," observed Pereira, "you do not 
 work for the bishop but to gain a living." 
 
 " Well, as I said to you," proceeded the young 
 man, addressing Coelho, " the Senhor will pay me 
 at the commencement and at the end of the treat- 
 ment ; thus there car. be no mistakes. Will that 
 suit you ? " 
 
 "What remedy have I?" sighed Coelho. "I 
 will give you — well, up to thirty milreis, or say 
 forty."
 
 THE DYSPEPTIC PATIENT. 17T 
 
 '' No, Senhor ! " retorted Oyrino. " I charge 
 only one price." 
 
 " And liow mucli does that amount to ? " 
 
 '' One hundred milreis/' * 
 
 " One hundred milreis ! " exclaimed Coelho. 
 
 " Fifty down and fifty at the end." 
 
 The sick man moaned aloud at the demand^ and 
 muttered to himself like one in sore distress. 
 
 ^'Oh, neighbour ! " cried Pereira. " What is that 
 to j^'on ? A mere ear of coini to one who owns a 
 barnful." 
 
 " Oh ! NO;, no, it is really not so^ I assure you," 
 pleadingly replied the other. 
 
 " Now, don't tell falsehoods/' continued Pereira. 
 ^^lE you had not got the coppers I would have said 
 so to friend Cyrino ; but look you, he is one of our 
 family now, and will only cure us for nothing, eh, 
 doctor ? " 
 
 '^ Certainly, certainly," declared Oyrino very 
 readily. 
 
 " But with you the case is nqt^ different. Be- 
 sides, for what purpose does a surgeon wander 
 about these wilds ? Don't you tiiink he wants to 
 make something out of it ? Of course he does, and 
 it is only right that he should." 
 
 * Equivalent to, more or less, ten pounds sterling.
 
 172 INNOCENCU. 
 
 '^But fifty — rail — reis ! " exclaimed Coelho,.iii a 
 mouruful voice, and all in one lump." 
 
 During- the discussion, Cyrino maintained a dig- 
 nified silence, devoting Ms attention to the pages 
 of Chernoviz, and reading one of his many mar- 
 ginal notes therein. 
 
 After a long pause and considerable hesitation, 
 Coelho at last heaved a deep sigh of resignation. 
 '' Heigho \" said he. ''Well, consider the business 
 closed ; but, look you, the price of the medicines 
 must be included in the payment, and the visits 
 must be made in my house." 
 
 " Certainly,^' replied Cyrino. " I will go to 
 your fazenda every day. It is not far from here ? " 
 
 " No, Senhor. By the road it is only two short 
 leagues." 
 
 " Good ! Now, as soon as you return home, go to 
 bed at once and take these powde^^s. Take them 
 in two doses, and then keep perfectly quiet for two 
 or three days. You may feel weak from their 
 
 effects, but afterwards '■" Pausing suddenly, 
 
 for a few moments, he gazed steadily at Coelho, and 
 then observed, "You really want to be cured, 
 eh ? " 
 
 " Ah ! Do I not ? " 
 
 " And you have confidence in me ? " 
 
 " Under Dcus, only you can save me.' 
 
 }}
 
 THE DTSPEPTIC PATIENT. 173 
 
 "Then you will unliesitatingly take Avliat I send 
 you ? " ♦" 
 
 " Tliat I will, even 'if it were red hot iron." 
 '^ Now, mark well what you say, I do not like 
 to commence a treatment and then have to stop 
 it." 
 
 "-Fear not that with me. To linger on as I 
 have lived is not life. I would rather die." 
 
 " Then a few days after you have taken the 
 powders, you will have to take a good big dose of 
 the milk of the jaracatia tree." 
 
 '^ Jaracatia ! " exclaimed the sick man aghast. 
 " Jaracatia ! " cried Meyer in his turn. " What 
 is jaracatia ? " 
 
 " Why that will burn out the inside of the man,"' 
 observed the Mineiro. 
 
 Cyrino, somewhat offended, brusquely rei^lied, 
 " Senhor Pereira, I am no child ; I know well 
 what I am saying. This remedy is a secret of 
 mine ; true, it is very powerful, and also very dan- 
 gerous, but it is not the first, nor the second, time 
 that I have cured the ' empalamados ' with it. 
 Everything depends on the quantity and the mode 
 of administering the milk, and for that reason I 
 make no mystery of the recipe. Nevertheless, a 
 very little more than is necessary and the patient 
 is in his grave."
 
 174 INNOCENCIA 
 
 " Ugli ! " exclaimed Pereira, "^ sucli a kind of 
 medicine want not I ; I would ratlier be ' empala- 
 mado ' all my life and risk a better cliance of re- 
 maining in this world a little longer." 
 
 " Wliat is this jaracatia ? " Meyer again asked. 
 
 Coellio, with half closed eyes and drooping head, 
 was evidently deep in the meditation of the pros 
 and cons of his case and the prescribed remedy, 
 at last, m a melancholy voice, he observed, "Well, 
 what is to be, is to be. I accept whatever you 
 order me. Whatever you do is well done. How 
 am I to take the jaracatia ? " 
 
 " I will tell you later on," replied Cyrino. 
 " Meanwhile, when you arrive home, look for one 
 of the trees in your neighbourhood, give three 
 o-ashes in the trunk near its base, and allow the 
 milk to drip. I myself will then select from it 
 what is necessary. I have every confidence that 
 the Senhor will become perfectly sound again, but 
 always bear in mind that in the business of sickness, 
 more than in anything else, no one can say that 
 so and so will happen. Everything is in the hand 
 of God. He it is who makes the sickness dis- 
 appear from the body, or sends one to the sepul- 
 chre. Every good Christian knows that and should 
 conform to the divine will. What a doctor can do 
 is only to assist nature and lend a helping hand to
 
 THE DYSPEPTIC PATIENT. 175 
 
 a body wliicli can, and desires to, arise from a bed 
 of sickness. '^ 
 
 " Just so, just so ! " ejaculated Meyer, wbo was 
 engaged at tlie moment in arranging bis col- 
 lections. 
 
 " Tbat is also wbat I understand/' said tbe 
 Mineiro. 
 
 " But wbat is tbis jaracatia, Senbor Pereira''? " 
 insisted tbe German. 
 
 Pereira impatiently turned towards bim^ and 
 almost sbouted, " It is a tree, Senbor Meyer, a 
 tree, a buge tree witb small leaves, and bears 
 a fruit full of milk, wbicb burns out tbe life of 
 any one wbo tastes it. It is a tree, do you bear ? 
 A tree ! Ugb ! '' 
 
 " Humpb ! All ! I see,^' placidly replied tbe 
 German, altbougb not very mucb enligbtened. 
 
 During tbis time Cyrino bad taken from bis 
 trunk certain medicinal preparations, wbicb be 
 banded to Coelbo witb careful instructions for 
 tbeir use. 
 
 '' Do you experience any nausea wben you eat ? " 
 inquired tbe youtb. 
 
 " Mucb, Senbor Doctor." 
 
 " It is always so, but never mind. After taking 
 tbe milk of jaracatia, tbe appetite will return. 
 At first, you must drink only tbe raw wbito of
 
 176 INNOCENCU. 
 
 eggs well beaten up, afterwards, little by little, 
 you will be able to take more substantial aliment." 
 
 '' May Heaven only hear you ! " 
 
 Pereira, who bad gone to the door, presently 
 observed : 
 
 " Here comes some one else. I can hear the 
 steps of a mounted animal. Without doubt it is 
 some poor fellow shrivelled up with infirmities. 
 Truly, there is no want of sick people in the 
 world. Yet there is so much wickedness about, 
 that it could not well be less than it is." After 
 a short pause he added, in a tone of surprise, 
 ^' Hi ! hi ! Men Deus ! Nossa Senhora help us ! 
 Do you know who is coming ? It is Garcia, who 
 has had the leprosy more than a year, and yet 
 won't believe he has it. Poor fellow ! Without 
 doubt he will pay for his mistake. I am really 
 very sorry for these unfortunates — but I say — 
 there — I don't want to see them in my house. 
 Come, come, Senhor Doctor, despatch Garcia at 
 once. One does not play with lepers. From such 
 may the Senhora Sant' Anna deliver us. Even to 
 look at them they say is not good." And Pereira, 
 returning to the room, exclaimed hurriedly, " Oh ! 
 pray do not let the man dismount, or I shall per- 
 haps have to be rude to him. For the 'Amor de 
 Deus ' go outside there at once. Sec what he
 
 THE DYSPEPTIC PATIENT 177 
 
 wants, and give him all good wishes on our part. 
 Go ! go ! " lie impatiently vociferated, for at that 
 moment a voice was heard inquiring if Senhor 
 Pereira was at home. The latter, seeing that 
 Cjrino did not hasten as he was desired, or 
 fearing that the new arrival might enter the room, 
 hurried to his threshold and frigidly responded to- 
 the greetings of the man called Garcia. 
 
 N
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE LEPEE. 
 
 The new arrival^ who had already dismounted, 
 made no effort to advance towards tlie owner of 
 the house. On the contrary, he somewhat retired, 
 and then remained motionless, leaning against his 
 mule with the reins in his hand. 
 
 Pereira, from his post of observation, inquired, 
 in no very pleasurable tone, " Well, Senhor 
 Garcia, how goes it ? " 
 
 " As it has to be," replied the interpolated. 
 " Bad — or rather, as always." 
 
 " Rest assured that I feel very sorry for what 
 you say." 
 
 " Is the surgeon here ? " inquired Garcia. 
 
 " He won't be long before he comes out here to 
 see you. In an instant he will be here." 
 
 These ungracious words, however, seemed not to 
 disturb the impassiveness of the unfortunate man ;
 
 THE LEPER. 179 
 
 Tie merely observed witli an air o£ melancholy, " I 
 will patiently wait for him." f 
 
 " I suppose you will return home to-night ? " said 
 Pereira. 
 
 " I shall. If night overtakes me on the road, I 
 shall halt at the camp of the Perdizes." 
 
 " Ah, truly ! There is a shelter there. But are 
 you not afraid of the souls from the other world ? 
 They say that the old ranch is haunted." 
 
 " I ? " exclaimed the unfortunate. " I fear only 
 myself. If some poor departed soul wished to pay 
 me a visit, out of very thankfulness I would kiss 
 his fleshless bones. Look you, Senhor Pereira," 
 continued he in a loud and agonised voice, " be- 
 ware of me, invite me not to enter your house, for 
 I, in your place, would have to do the same." 
 
 '' Oh ! Senhor Garcia," feebly protested Pereira. 
 
 ""No. I tell you this from my heart, I do. In 
 my family we have ever had a perfect horror of 
 lepers. The Senhor cannot imagine how intense 
 — and — ah ! I am the first. Many years I lived 
 in doubt — to no one I imparted my suspicions. 
 Suddenly, the horrid tell-tale marks appeared on 
 my skin. No longer was it possible to deceive any 
 one, not even the blind. Ah ! meu Deus ! what 
 have I not suffered ! " 
 
 " May He," interrupted Pereira compassionately, 
 
 N 2
 
 i8o INNOCENCU. 
 
 " grant that this doctor may liave some remedy. 
 You know sometimes " 
 
 " What ? To cure leprosy ? " replied Garcia, with 
 a pung-ent smile of incredulity. " No ! There is 
 not one of the miserable spotted ones who dares 
 even to hope it." 
 
 " Then wherefore do you wish to see the 
 medico ? " inquired the Mineiro. 
 
 " For one thing only. To learn from him from 
 the books he has studied and his knowledge of in- 
 firmities, whether this disease is catching. That 
 only is what I desire. For if it is, then will I fly 
 from my home, disappear from this land, and 
 wander far away to some distant corner secluded 
 from the sight of man. But there, some say it is 
 catching, others that is not, that it is a disease of 
 the blood only — I know not." 
 
 Upon his rough country saddle he folded his 
 arms, and on them he sadly reclined his head, his 
 face expressive of profound sorrow and despair. 
 After a pause, he raised his eyes to heaven, and 
 exclaimed, " Ah ! Deus, Nosso Senhor ! what 
 Thou hast ordained, so shall Thy will be done." 
 Then addressing Pereira, he continued, " I would 
 save my family from these — these — marks, and if 
 the medico destroys my feeble hopes, then will I 
 go to S. Paulo."
 
 THE LEPER. t8i 
 
 Pereira cut sliort this dolorous dialogue. " Very- 
 well, Senlior Garcia," said lie, "I^-will send the 
 man to you." 
 
 Ee-entering the house, he repeated the request 
 to Cyrino, who was then engaged in giving direc- 
 tions to Coelho to take, one month after the jara- 
 catia, some infusion of certain indigenous herbs, 
 common in the locality. 
 
 "Go, doctor," advised Pereira, "go outside 
 there, and see the other poor fellow, and despatch 
 him as soon as possible, for I am getting quite 
 nervous whilst he remains on my lands." 
 
 Cyrino then went out, and advancing slowly, 
 he stopped at some paces from the unhappy 
 Garcia, whose countenance thereupon suddenly 
 contracted with an expression of fear and humility, 
 for the action served to confirm his worst fears. 
 
 Evening was drawing nigh, and the golden 
 rays of the setting sun gleamed over the stilled 
 landscape with a light so soft and melancholy, 
 that it added to the sadness of the scene, and 
 Cyrino felt his heart oppressed with an involun- 
 tary feeling of pity. 
 
 The leper gazed at him with glances of keen 
 anxiety and even of awe ; for from the lips of the 
 man before him was about to fall his sentence of 
 eternal proscription — a sentence without appeal.
 
 i82 INNOCENCU. 
 
 irremediable, fatal ! Oli ! What agony was seen 
 in that gaze ! What bitter thoughts ! What 
 despair ! With eager half-opened mouth he 
 waited for the words of Cyrino to break that 
 cruel suspense. 
 
 " Well/'' said Cyrino, after a short pause, "what 
 is it that the Senhor desires ? " 
 
 " Doctor,'^ stammered Garcia, " I — first — that 
 is, I want to pay you something — I — I have brought 
 some money, but perhaps it may not be suffi- 
 cient.'^ 
 
 Cyrino interrupted him. " I never accept any- 
 thing," said he, "for treating the — your com- 
 plaint.''^ 
 
 "That is to say," replied Garcia bitterly, "there 
 is no cure for it. " Ah ! well I know it, yet it is 
 cruel to ever hear it repeated. Look you, my 
 complaint I have not had long — it is quite in its 
 commencement — who knows — if — if the Senhor 
 does not know of some herbs ? " 
 
 "Unhappily," responded Cyrino, "neither I,. 
 nor any one else know of such plants." 
 
 " Well ! " said Garcia, with a deep sigh, and 
 closing his eyes as if to concentrate his thoughts, 
 he continued : " Ah ! doctor, I am but a poor man, 
 already old and worn out. Why comes not death 
 in place of this corruption that destroys my flesh
 
 THE LEPER. 183 
 
 as if already in the tomb. A long time I liave 
 felt it in me, but I kept my secret^ I bid it from 
 all, I hid it even to tbe day on wbicb my grand- 
 daughter — the child of my heart — my darling Ja- 
 cintha — when she, for the first time, feared to 
 embrace me. Ah ! Senhor, how I suffer ! Ah ! ^' His 
 words seemed to choke him. He turned to a death- 
 like pallor. He gasped, "Ah! water! water! — give 
 me — water, for the love of God ! Ah ! would that 
 now — my — my hour had come. Ha ! my throat I 
 — It burns as a fire ! " 
 
 Reeling as if in some paroxysm, he fiercely 
 clutched his saddle to save himself from falling, 
 whilst Cyrino ran hastily to fetch water. 
 
 "Now, what shall I give you the water in?" 
 inquired Pereira, in reply to Cyrino's demand. 
 
 " What you please," replied the young man 
 hastily ; " but — see you not how that poor Chris- 
 tian suffers ? " 
 
 " There, take that earthenware cup. We will 
 break it afterwards," replied Pereira. 
 
 The leper eagerly seized the cup and drank 
 the water greedily, after which he seemed re- 
 lieved. 
 
 " It was but a fit of faintness," said he, gradu- 
 ally resuming his calmness. " But as I have 
 already related, long ago I knew I had the 'mal ; '
 
 1 84 INNOCENCU. 
 
 now, I only want to know one thing', and tten I 
 will leave you. That is — is — is this ' mal ' 
 ■catching ? " 
 
 " It is," replied Cyrino sorrowfully. 
 
 ^' What is there that I can do ? " 
 
 '' Ask Our Lady Saint Anne for patience and 
 Our Lord Jesus Christ to protect you in your un- 
 happy life ! " 
 
 Garcia humbly uncovered his head at the men- 
 iiion of the Holy names, and in a low voice he 
 murmured, ''Oh! my God, my God! grant me 
 strength — give me courage — to do my duty to 
 Thee. Then, as if taking upon himself some great 
 resolve, he exclaimed, " The will of the Almighty 
 be obeyed. Doctor, I thank you. The poor leper 
 will have to ask the Lord that he will recompense 
 in this world and in the other the man of letters. 
 Adieu ! I go to the lands of S. Paulo, where I 
 shall meet with those equally afflicted. Adieu ! '^ 
 Mounting his horse with considerable effort, he 
 turned to the persons who, at a distance, had at- 
 tended the consultation. " Adieu ! " he cried, as 
 he waved his hat. " Friends and countrymen, 
 tSenhor Pereira, Senhor Coelho and you all, once 
 more, Adieu ! I go to bury myself far aAvay be- 
 yond the Parnahyba. This Sertao will never see 
 me again ! "
 
 THE LEPER. 185 
 
 The last words of the unfortunate creature were 
 received in silence. *" 
 
 Clapping spurs to his horse, Garcia departed in 
 the direction of the main road, already darkening 
 as night spread its lugubrious mantle over the 
 leper's dreary way to life-long misery.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 BITTEES AND SWEETS. 
 
 One after the other tlie days passed by without 
 novelty — Cyrino, diagnosing and curings or rather 
 prescribing ; Meyer in continually adding to his 
 already fine entomological collection, but ever ac- 
 companied by Pereira, who cautiously endeavoured 
 to always keep within sight of his guest. 
 
 Cyrino, as before, was still the confidant of all 
 the fears of Pereira. 
 
 '' The German," said the Mineiro, " will not let 
 me rest in peace, yet I so keep him under my eye, 
 that that at least is some satisfaction ; but if he 
 gets any suspicions of it I shall get frightened 
 even of my shadow. I am on a fire. I know not 
 why Manecao Doca does not arrive. I do so want 
 to place on the ground this cargo of care. Now, 
 more than ever, 'Nocencia ought to get married.
 
 BITTERS AND SJFEETS. 187 
 
 Ball ! How ttese women do worry a man's life 
 out ! Ug'li ! And even all tliis is nothing to wliat 
 some of 'em will do," 
 
 " Then do you expect Manecao to arrive very 
 soon ? " asked Cyriuo, changing colour. 
 
 " He cannot delay long — in two or three days at 
 the most. He is coming from Uberaba, and, with- 
 out doubt, he has there arranged all the papers. I 
 gave him the certificates of my marriage and the 
 baptism of the little one — and also advanced him 
 money for the expenses, although he wanted to 
 refuse it." 
 
 " Then all is now absolutely decided ? " again 
 anxiously inquired Cyrino. 
 
 " No doubt of it. Have I not already told you 
 so more than once. Now it is only ' a case of 
 bricks and mortar.' I even already treat Manecao 
 as a son, and the honour of this house is also his 
 honour." 
 
 " But your daughter ? " 
 
 "What about her?" 
 
 " Does she care for him V 
 
 " Now what next ! " exclaimed Pereira Avith a 
 superb smile of disdain at the question. " A fine 
 fellow like him, and so straightforward ! Bah ! 
 But even if she does not care for him, it is my will, 
 and there's an end of it. As to her happiness, and
 
 1 88 INNOCENCU. 
 
 as to lier being a good daughter, I have no reason 
 to complain ; and I am positively sure that the 
 bridegroom will soon wake an echo in her heart. 
 Would that I could now see him arrive." 
 
 In the meanwhile the health of Innocencia had 
 been completely restored, and, during the progress 
 to convalescence, Cyrino had seized every oppor- 
 tunity for a. pretext to render her every possible 
 attention. But now, with the rosy flush of health 
 tinging the damask face of the Sertaneja, a reason 
 to visit her no longer existed, and the brief and 
 serious interviews of the medico were terminated 
 by Pereira in order that his attention might not 
 be diverted from the person of Meyer, 
 
 Then the young man, with a pang in his heai^t, 
 declared that his services and his presence were no 
 longer necessary. 
 
 Entire weeks now passed away without the young 
 man being once able to catch a glimpse of his loved 
 one; and, with this suspense, his passion became 
 so all-consuming, that, in order to disguise the 
 cause of his nervous irritation, want of appetite, and 
 constant pallor, he again alleged, as the reason of 
 his apparent ill health, a return of an attack of 
 intermittent fever. 
 
 The uncertainty in which he lived as to whether 
 his affection was returned or otherwise, gave him
 
 BITTERS AND SWEETS. 189 
 
 accesses of real agony of mind, wliicli, especially 
 in tlie silent hours of night, tormented him to the 
 utmost limits of human endurance. One night the 
 torment of the young- man acquired such proportions 
 that he resolved, that, on the next day, he would 
 fly from such a place of uncertainty and suffering*. 
 Having taken this resolution he felt calmei", and, 
 impressed by the peaceful serenity of the night, he 
 commenced to ponder with more tranquillity on the 
 aspects of his case. 
 
 It was then perhaps an hour before the break of 
 day, when the surroundings were only dimly illu- 
 mined by the shadowed light of a clouded moon, a 
 light, soft, serene, equably diffused throughout the 
 atmosphere, and uninterrupted by any intermittent 
 gleams of moonlight. The cocks had already 
 crowed, and from far away were now and then 
 heard the strange cries of the anhumas-pocas. 
 
 Cyrino, as if seized by some new resolve, 
 suddenly rose to his feet. After some hesitation, 
 he passed through the gate of the fence by the side 
 of the house and bent his steps in the direction 
 of the thickly-foliaged orange-grove, amidst the 
 dense shadows of which he watched and waited 
 awhile. 
 
 Presently he approached the fence at the rear of 
 the house, from whence, with a beating heart, ho
 
 igo INNOCENCU. 
 
 perceived^ at an open gindow^ a female figure — 
 lier figure — Innocencia herself. There could be 
 no doubt of it. For some time she made no move- 
 ment, but at length she slowly withdrew, and little 
 by little softly closed the window shutter. 
 
 Cyrino immediately sprang forward and gave 
 three gentle taps on the shutter. 
 
 "Innocencia! Innocencia !" he called in a low 
 but ardent voice full of supplication. 
 
 No one responded. 
 
 " Innocencia ! " again implored the young man. 
 '' Hear me ! Open ! Have pity on me ! I die 
 for your sake.^^ 
 
 After a short time, which appeared a century to 
 Cyrino, he tried the window, and finding it un- 
 secured, with great trembling he pushed it open. 
 The girl quickly returned, seeming astonished to 
 behold' him there, and frightened to see the shutter 
 apparently open by itself. 
 
 Wishing to give some, or any, pretext for the 
 situation, and simulating surprise, she very softly 
 and stammeringly inquired : 
 
 " Why comes — Mece — here ? For what purpose ? 
 I — I am Avell now." 
 
 Cyrino reached forward and seized her hands. 
 
 '' Oh ! " cried he passionately. " 111 am I now. 
 It is I who am now about to die, for you have
 
 BITTERS AND SWEETS. 191 
 
 bewitclied me, and no remedy can I find for my 
 sickness." 
 
 "It No ! " protested Innocencia. 
 
 "Yes! You. A girl such as I have never 
 seen. Your eyes burn me. I feel a fire within 
 me. I eat not — I live not. My only desire is to 
 see you — and — and to love you. Sleep ! I know 
 no more ; and this week I have aged more than I 
 ought to in many years. And why all this, Inno- 
 cencia ? Ah ! well you know.^' 
 
 "No, indeed I do not/' the girl replied in all 
 sincerity. 
 
 " Because I love you.'" 
 
 "Wah !" she exclaimed. "Is love, then, suffer- 
 ing?" 
 
 "' Love is suffering when one knows not if the 
 passion is returned — when he sees not she whom 
 he worships. But when one is as I am now, ah ! 
 then, indeed, love is heaven." 
 
 "And when you are away?'' she inquired. 
 " What is it that you feel ?" 
 
 " Here, within my breast, by day and by night, 
 there seems to burn a never-ending fire, and I feel 
 as though about to die. All things are hateful. I 
 think only of her my soul craves for ; her memory 
 haunts me, in every hour of the day and of the 
 night, in my slumbers, and amid my prayers to
 
 192 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 Our Lady, slie is ever present — slie, the well- 
 beloved, and " 
 
 " Oh ! " interrupted the girl, with all ingenuous- 
 ness, '^then I also love." 
 
 *^You?" cried Cyrino passionately. 
 
 "If it is as — as Mece says." 
 
 '• I — I swear to you !" 
 
 '' Then — then I love also," declared Innocencia. 
 
 " But whom ? Tell me quickly. Whom ?" 
 
 After a pause, and with some hesitation, she 
 replied with some emotion, "■ Him who loves 
 me!" 
 
 ''Ah!'^ exclaimed the young man rapturously, 
 " then you are mine — mine assuredly, for no one 
 in this world — no one, do you hear — is capable of 
 loving you as I do. Not even your father, nor 
 your mother were she alive. Let your heart speak, 
 but if you wish to send me out of this world, tell 
 me that it is not I. Teilmc!" 
 
 "And how would MecO die ?^' she tremulously 
 inqviired. 
 
 "There is no want of trees to hang me nor 
 water to drown mc." 
 
 " Heaven help mc ! Don't talk like that. Yet 
 why does Mecc like me so much ? Mece is no 
 relation of mine ; not even a distant cousin ; he is 
 really even unknown to me. I have seen you but
 
 BITTERS AND SWEETS. 193 
 
 a very short time, and yet — yet you tliink so much 
 of me/' 
 
 '^ And you ? Do you not think of me the same ? " 
 
 " Yes, )^ou. Why are you awake at this hour ? 
 It is because sleep deserts you. Because your 
 couch seems, as mine, like a bed of torments. 
 Why do you think of some one at every instant ? 
 Yet that some one is not your cousin, not 
 even a distant one, and verily even unknown 
 to you ?" 
 
 "It is true," Innocencia candidly confessed. 
 " But who told Mece that I think of him ? '' 
 
 '^ Innocencia," entreated the young man, " I 
 will not deny it, I knew that I was loved.'" 
 
 '^ Always this thing, love!" she observed, more 
 to herself then to the listener. ''Last year, on 
 the occasion of the Festival of Sant' Anna, some 
 people, relatives of mine, came here, and laughed 
 at me because I did not understand them ; so 
 much so, that one of them, the Nha Tuca,"^ said 
 to me, 'Really, are you not yet in love with some 
 young man ? ' I replied that I knew not what she 
 meant. That was absolutely true and as certain 
 as Our Father is in Paradise. Now " 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 * The Senhora Tuca. 

 
 194 INNOCENCU, 
 
 " Now ? " she repeated. " Ali ! Wlio knows 
 if it were not better as it was, and tliat I had 
 never liked any one ?" 
 
 " That is not naturaL It is against the laws of 
 Heaven. Whatever is destined, must be fulfilled." 
 
 Innocencia yet remained at some distance from 
 the window, so that Cyrino, in order that his 
 whispers mig-ht reach her, leant over the window 
 sill and inclined his body towards her. He still 
 retained her hands in his, and tenderly pressed 
 them whenever she tried to withdraw them. 
 
 The conversation of the lovers was interrupted by 
 frequent pauses, during which, in the intoxication 
 of their love, they gazed upon each other with 
 dreamy glances filled with passion. 
 
 " Ah ! Innocencia," cried Cyrino, " let me 
 feast on your face. To me it is more beautiful 
 than the moon ; more brilliant than the sun." 
 And in spite of resistance, which although weak 
 he was conscious of, he succeeded in inducing her 
 to approach close to the window sill. 
 
 " To love," she observed, '' must really be some- 
 thing wrong." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because here am I, and my face feels on fire, 
 and a something within mo tells me that I am 
 committing a sin."
 
 BITTERS AND STFEETS. > 195 
 
 " You ! So pure !" contested Cyrino. 
 
 '' If some one came here now and saw us, I 
 should die of very sliame. Senhor Cyrino, leave 
 me — go away ! Your eyes fascinate me. You 
 have bewitched me. That medicine you gave me 
 had some herb in it for me to take, and become — 
 become " 
 
 "No, no/' the youth energetically interrupted. 
 " I swear to you — by my mother^s soul I do — that 
 the remedy had nothing of the kind in it, absolutely 
 nothing." 
 
 " Then why am I thus ? I know myself no 
 more. If my father appeared, would he not be 
 right to kill me ?" 
 
 Her voice, as she uttered these words, sounded 
 lower and lower, and finally ended in a flood of 
 tears. 
 
 Cyrino threw himself upon his knees before 
 her. 
 
 " Innocencia," he exclaimed. '' By the salvation 
 of my soul, I give you my oath that I have done 
 nothing wrong to win your heart. If you love 
 me, it is because God has so ordained it. I am no 
 man of dissipated habits, and until now I have 
 never loved any woman but you, but how could I 
 help loving a woman such as you are. Oh ! pardon 
 me, Innocencia. If you suffer, I also suffer much. 
 
 o2
 
 196 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Pardon me." Cyriuo somewliai; raised his voice 
 as lie concluded this appeal. 
 
 Suddenly Innocencia appeared startled, and 
 irembled as with some fear. " Did you hear tliat 
 noise ?" she asked, in a terrified voice. 
 
 '' No/' responded Cyrino. 
 
 " Some one is awake there indoors. ''' 
 
 " WojI, go and see who it is. If it is nothing, 
 return. I will await here, hidden in the shadow 
 of the wall." 
 
 Some moments afterwards the girl returned. 
 "" I can see no one," she said. 
 
 " Then it was a delusion." 
 
 '' Oh ! Cyrino. You had now better go away." 
 
 " No, Innocencia, have pity on me ; I shall soon 
 not be able to sec you again, and we must converse 
 about arranging our future. The Manecao will 
 not delay." 
 
 " Ah ! " she exclaimed in surj)rise ; " then Mece 
 knows." 
 
 " I do know ; and unfortunately he will soon be 
 here." 
 
 "Ah!" she cried. "Well knew I that you 
 would bo my destruction. Before seeing you I 
 should have married that man even with jo}^ It 
 was such a novelty; for he told mc ho would take 
 oie up to town. 13ut now, the idea fills mc with
 
 BITTERS AND SJFEETS. 19; 
 
 liorror. Oil ! why did you come to disturb vsij 
 peace. I am only a poor girl wlio lias known nO' 
 mother since childhood. Are there no other girls 
 in the cities, or in all the wide world ? Why did 
 you come to make my heart ache that was so at 
 peace ? Why did you come to destroy my sleep ? 
 To take away the desire to live as before ? So 
 innocently, that, until now, I have never had a 
 wicked thought nor ever done harm to any one.^^ 
 
 " And I ? " replied Cyrino, with energy. " Think 
 you that I am happy ? Mark well one thing', 
 Iniiocencia, that so sure as Grod now hears me,, 
 you Avili marry me or I will end my life. What 
 but iny ill-luck was the cause of all this misery. 
 If I had only chanced to come here before the 
 arrival of that man — who is now so odious to me 
 that I could slay him — what could then prevent 
 my now being the happiest man in the world ? 
 Happier in this wild Sertao than the Emperor ia 
 his palace, or the millionaires of Rio de Janeiro. 
 As I have already said, the fault was not of mine, 
 I am not to blame." 
 
 " Are there no means to save us?" suggested the 
 young woman. 
 
 '' Means ? I will " 
 
 At this moment there arose, from the direction 
 of the orange-grove, the sound of a whistle, high-
 
 198 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 pitclied and prolonged^ and a stone, impelled by- 
 some mysterious liand, came whizzing tlirough tlie 
 sav, and, witli great force, struck tlie wall of the 
 house close to the head of Cyrino. 
 
 Innocencia, uttering a half-smothered cry of 
 terror, quickly closed the window shutter, whilst 
 Cyrino dashed towards the dark shadows of the 
 grove, in the direction from whence the stone had 
 come. 
 
 Despite his eager search he failed to discover a 
 sign or trace of any one, whilst all around still 
 prevailed the calm peacefulness of the night. He 
 searched the recesses of the grove with all his 
 senses, yet heard he only the noise of his own 
 footsteps. 
 
 Tired at last, he left the grounds and cautiously- 
 wended his way to the front yard of the house. On 
 arriving there he stopped and listened attentively, 
 when again penetrated his ears the sound of the 
 same whistle, but the notes were more strident, 
 more prolonged, and higher pitched.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOPES AND FEAES. 
 
 During the days of his stay on the lands of Pereira 
 — lauds whichj except at leagues distant, had 
 neither limits nor neighbours — Meyer increased 
 his interesting collection with an extraordinary 
 variety of " bichos," especially of butterflies. 
 
 The pleasure which he experienced in obtain- 
 ing such a satisfactory result of his labours was 
 so great, that on every occasion he expressed it 
 most heartily — a fact that should have been, of 
 itself alone, sufficient to convince the most in- 
 credulous of men as to the question of his 
 sincerity. 
 
 " Senhor Pereira," said the naturalist, " I assure 
 you that in no part of Brazil have I yet done so 
 well as on your fazenda." 
 
 " I understand you, you rascal," growled the 
 Mineiro to himself.
 
 203 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 " Really it is so. Tlie only tiling tliat I regret 
 is that Your dano-liter is no longer visible. I 
 regret it muclij I do indeed." 
 
 Pereira forced a sickly smile^ and, altliougli 
 clencliing liis fists and becoming jaundiced witli 
 an access of rage, lie nevertheless calmly replied : 
 
 " Mochu knows this is the custom of my country. 
 Women are not made for " 
 
 " For what ? " inquired Meyer, noticing the 
 pause. 
 
 " To 'prosearem with anybody." 
 
 " What is prosearem ?" 
 
 " Oh ! To converse. To let their tongues 
 rattle," hastily explained Cyrino. 
 
 " Ah ! Thank 3'ou, doctor," returned Meyer, 
 gratefully acknowledging that philological indica- 
 tion, which was immediately entered in his note- 
 book, as " Prosearem is to converse." 
 
 " Very good ! But truly it is a pity, Seiihor 
 Pereira, because your daughter is such a pretty 
 girl." 
 
 '' Humph ! That bait won't take," murmured 
 the Mineiro, " I see I must never take my eyes off 
 this ' bicho.' " 
 
 '^ It is a pity," Meyer repeated two or three 
 times. " A very great pity indeed." 
 
 Certainly this language was not likely to vanquish
 
 HOPES AND FEARS. 201 
 
 tlie suspicions of Pereira; in fact his vigilance 
 hourly became, if possible, more keen; but, being 
 concentrated entirely on one person, it afforded 
 all the more liberty to the actual culprit to return 
 and visit the ill-guarded treasure. Yet even so, 
 the desired interview was compassed with difl&culty, 
 for the girl had been so impressed with the termi- 
 nation of -the last interview, that for some days she 
 had scarcely left her room. 
 
 To write to her was, above all, useless, for the 
 simple reason that she had never learnt to read, 
 and besides, what means existed to send her a 
 note or even a sign ? Reasons, therefore, were 
 there in abundance to make Cyrino weary with 
 impatience and nearly desperate with anxiety. 
 
 Meanwhile, in the open air and amidst the 
 shadowed seclusion of the orangery, he passed his 
 nights, thinking of how to solve his difficulties, 
 and searching for an acceptable explanation of 
 those two mysterious whistles, and, above all, of 
 that vigorously 'thrown stone — one so well directed, 
 that, but for a little deviation of aim, it might 
 have stretched him upon the ground. 
 
 On one of these watchful nights of anxiety, ho 
 had the satisfaction to see, at last, Innocencia's 
 window re open. 
 
 The poor girl — consumed with tlie tumult of her
 
 202 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 love— liad souglit relief in an endeavour to inliale 
 witli tlie fresli dew-laden gentle breeze of the 
 Sertao niglit somewliafc of its tranquillity, so tliat 
 its peaceful influence niiglit serve to calm the 
 violence of the sensations that so strongly agitated 
 her. and — who knows? — possibly to see, if by 
 chance he might be there, the one who had 
 created so much disturbance in her breast. 
 
 Eapid as the flight of an arrow, rapid as that 
 savagely-thrown stone, Cyrino flew towards the 
 opening window, and covered with ardent kisses 
 the hands of his beloved. 
 
 "The cry?" she at once anxiously inquired. 
 " The two cries ? And the stone ? What of 
 them?'' 
 
 " Oh ! It was nothing,'' Cyrino hastily replied. 
 It was only a macauan ; "^ and what you thought 
 was a stone was but a noitibot that flew by me 
 and struck against the moonlit wall." 
 " Really ?" she incredulously inquired. 
 " Eeally. I also, at first, was very much alarmed. 
 Afterwards I verified that it was nothing but a 
 delusion. At night one sees marvels in everything. 
 But to me, the only one I see is yourself. My 
 life ! My angel of heaven ! " 
 
 * A species of hawk, 
 f A iiiglit bird.
 
 HOPES AND FEARS. 203 
 
 Witli tliis madrigal, Cyrino opened a couversa- 
 tion similar to tliat of tlie first night. One sucli 
 as two ardent lovers lisp and coo in tlie eternal, 
 yet ever new, declaration of love, sucli as has been 
 repeated over and over again since the days when 
 Adam and Eve first practised it under the shade 
 of the divine trees of Eden. 
 
 The young man expressed some fears that the 
 presence of Meyer might produce a possible rival. 
 She laughed merrily at the suggestion, and jested 
 with spirit, yet kindly, at the queer figure of the 
 foreigner. Presently they began to discuss their 
 prospects and lay out the plans of a happy future 
 life. 
 
 " Now that I know what love is, I will plainly 
 tell my father that I cannot marry Manecao,^' 
 said Innocencia. 
 
 "But suppose he objects ?" 
 
 " Then will I cry — cry bitterly." 
 
 " Tears will serve no end." 
 
 " But I have yet another resource." 
 
 "What is it ?" inquired Cyrino. 
 
 "To die!" 
 
 " No ! Oh ! say not that. There are yet other 
 means. I will tell you " 
 
 Innocencia, with a grave air, interrupted him. 
 
 "Listen, Cyrino," she said. "During these days
 
 204 INNOCENCU. 
 
 I have learnt many tilings. Before this I went 
 through the world as though I were blind and 
 knew nothing wrong in it, but the passion that I 
 have for Mece is as a sudden flash of light within 
 me, for now I begin to see better. No one has 
 said anything to me, but it seems as if my soul has 
 awakened to counsel me as to what is good and 
 what is evil. I know that I ought to fear you as 
 one who can destroy me ; I know not how it is, 
 yet I feel that my honour and that of my family 
 
 are all in your hands " 
 
 '' Innocencia ! " Cyrino interrupted. 
 . " Let me speak. Let me explain to you what 
 fills my breast, and then 1 shall feel at peace. I am 
 a child of the Sertao ; I have never read books, 
 neither have I had any oue to teach me anything ; 
 if I vex you, pardon me, for I do it unwittingly. I 
 remember a long time ago when some men and 
 women stopped here I asked my father why he did 
 not invite them inside the house, as you know is 
 customary with families. My father answered, 'No, 
 'Nocencia. These are abandoned women of gay 
 lives.^ I was very much astonished. ' All the 
 better then,' said I, ' if they are gay and merry they 
 ought to divert me.' 'They are abandoned people 
 and have no shame,'' continued my father. 1 felt so 
 sorry for them you cannot imagine. Afterwards,
 
 HOPES AND FEJRS. 205 
 
 I went to take a peep at them. Hi ! Wliat bad 
 ugly words ihej used ! How tliey scolded and 
 quarrelled, and smoked and sang aloud, and drank 
 aguadente until tliey reeled and fell to the ground. 
 And it was men Avho made the poor things like 
 that ! Ah ! Better to die. It seems to me that 
 Nossa Senhora ought to take pity on those who 
 love, but certainly to forsake those who go wrong. 
 If there is no other remedy, let us at least remem- 
 ber that our souls, when they have finished with 
 this world, will fly to the starry heavens to there 
 wander as in a garden. Were I to die and ]\Iece 
 also, my soul would fly through the air searching 
 for Moce, searching, ever searching, until found, 
 and then together wo could fly to here, to there, 
 sometimes by the road of S. lliiago,* sometimes 
 descending to this Sertao to see where they have 
 laid our two bodies. Ah ! That would be de- 
 lightful ! " 
 
 Innocencia thus showed that she possessed an 
 exalted imagination and a pure and elevated mind. 
 Enveloped in her purity, as in a mantle of bronze, 
 she freely and naturally expressed her new feelings 
 and sentiments without reserve. Yet this modest 
 and delicate nature, in a way, so impressed Cyrino, 
 that an invincible difiidence held him a captive 
 * The milky way, so designated in rortiif;ncse.
 
 2o6 INNOCENCU. 
 
 before tlie weak young girl^ wlio, of the mysteries 
 of existence^ oiily knew that she loved. 
 
 Thus it was_, therefore^ that he no longer allowed 
 the thought to pass through his mind of leaping 
 through the window^ nor of dwelling upon thoughts 
 even less decorous. He consumed the time in 
 bathing with kisses the hands of his inamorata, in 
 the endless chatter of lovers, in protests, in vows, 
 and in forming sweet dreams of the future. 
 
 "To-morrow," said Cyrino, '^1 will cautiously 
 approach your father, get him to talk about your 
 marriao-e, and then lead the conversation round to 
 myself." 
 
 "My father," observed the girl, ''is very good, 
 but I am in such fear of him. Ah, men Deus ! 
 He has such a temper." 
 
 " I have great hopes, nevertheless," replied 
 Cyrino. " I shall bo very explicit and speak 
 plainly. What I desire is that you may be con- 
 stant to me." 
 
 The vague sense of dread that held possession of 
 Innoccncia was also fully shared by Cyrino, so 
 much so, that when day arrived his courage failed, 
 and he ventured not to broach the question to 
 Pereira, although the latter's continued complaints 
 against Meyer permitted ample opportunities to 
 enter upon the subj cct, and, had Cyrino been so
 
 HOPES AND FEARS. 207 
 
 disposed^ lie would have been easily enabled to 
 furnisli a tlieme for the decisive conversation he 
 desired to open. 
 
 Yet although the succeeding days j)assed away 
 one after another without bringing any modifica- 
 tion of the state of affairs, sweet hopes yet lingered 
 in the heart of Cyrino — dreams, picturing a happy 
 life to come and a happy issue from the tangled 
 thread of doubt and tribulation in which he lived.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 FEESH ANECDOTES OF MEYER. 
 
 One day, Pereira, on returning from his daily 
 labours, sliowed another phase of his now 
 habitual irritation against Meyer. Downcast and 
 sullen in expression, he made signs to Cyrino that 
 he desired to speak with him alone, and both men, 
 without uttering a word, walked on until they 
 reached the borders of a stream about a mile from 
 the house. 
 
 " What is the matter with the man to-day ? " 
 Cyrino said to himself. " Perhaps the moment 
 for treating of that business is about to arrive. 
 Who knows ? " 
 
 On reaching the banks of the stream, Pereira 
 suddenly faced his companion, and, in an altered 
 voice loud and harsh, he delivered himself of 
 a series of exclamations.
 
 FRESH JNECDOTES OF METER. 209 
 
 " Know you, Senlior Doctor, that I can stand 
 this German no longer ? He is a vagabond ! He 
 is a puma fresh from inferno come to utterly 
 destroy me ! My brother ! Ah ! My brother,, 
 what a present you have sent me ! " 
 
 " But what has happened now ?^^ inquired Cyrino. 
 
 "Look you, if it were not for that letter and 
 the word I gave to the cursed villain — a hundred 
 lightnings blast him ! Anaconda of the diabo ! 
 The ginger colt ! — a ball would ere this have 
 already scattered his brains." 
 
 " Senhor Pereira, what has he now done ? "^ 
 again inquired Cyrino. 
 
 " I came here just to relieve myself of this load 
 on my heart " 
 
 " But " 
 
 " You know that Mochu is worse than a black 
 jaguar, although he appears like a man who would 
 not harm a flea, yet that man is truly a damned 
 soul — a seducer " 
 
 " Always these suspicions ! " observed Cyrino. 
 
 '' Suspicions ? No, they are certainties. Why, 
 what does the man talk about all day long ? Is 
 he not always thinking of the girl ? He opens 
 any conversation with the eternal question. How is 
 your daughter ? ' She is well,' I tell him, once and 
 for all, yet still he insists all the time in talking 
 
 P
 
 210 INNOCENCU. 
 
 about lier. It makes my blood boil, and still I try- 
 to speak him fairly. To-day lie came out of bis 
 disguise, and said to me as calmly as tbougb be 
 were lapping bread and milk, ' Your daugbter is 
 about to marry?' 'Sbe is/ I replied as savagely as 
 I could. ' And witb wbom ? ' I bad balf a mind 
 to say to bim, it is no business of yours, you in- 
 triguer, and tben to crack bis bead witb a cudgel, 
 but as be is my guest I quietly replied, ' Witb a 
 man of tbe Sertao, wbo would grind bis knife into 
 tbe bowels of wboever would interfere witb bis 
 wife.' Tbe German pretended not to understand 
 me, and witb tbe greatest impudence be retorted, 
 ' Tbe Senbor does wrong. Your daugbter is so 
 wonderfully beautiful tbat sbe ougbt to marry 
 some one from tbe cities.' At tbis I lost my 
 patience. ' Mocbu,' said I to bim, ' every one orders 
 bis own bousbeold as be tbinks best, and bere I 
 do not want to be interfered witb.' He, wben be 
 saw me black witb rage, begged me to excuse bim, 
 and recounted a long rigmarole about tbis, tbat, 
 and tbe otber, and as to wbat was good for my 
 dauofbter, and I know not wbat besides, all in a 
 gibberisb sort of language tbat I little under- 
 stood." 
 
 "He certainly did wrong," observed Cyrino. 
 " Is tbere any question of it ? Ab ! tbat is a
 
 FRESH ANECDOTES OF METER. 211 
 
 l)ody tliat ouglit to be soused into the sugar boilers 
 of Pedro Botelho. He is a Jew, and, above all, a 
 hunter of ' inesects,' and saying that I have said 
 everything. But stay, I have not told you the 
 rest. To-day it really seems as if he was possessed 
 of the devil. Close to where I was working in the 
 plantation with my captives,* he entered the ad- 
 joining woods, and there he made such a row in 
 breaking through the branches and vines that one 
 would have thought a tapir was charging there. 
 Suddenly I heard a great uproar and shouting ; 
 it was Meyer and his man Jose Pinho bellowing 
 like two minhocoes.t I ran to see what it was, and 
 found them very contentedly gazing upon a bicho 
 they had pinned to a stick. ' Halloa ! ' said I, ' what 
 is all this ? ' The German commenced to jump 
 about like a young goat. ' It is new ! ' he cried to 
 me. ' It is new ! ' ' What is new, Mochu ? "" ' This 
 bicho,' said he. ' For no one has discovered it 
 before me. It is my own, do you understand, my 
 own discovery ? And I am going to give it the 
 name of your daughter.' Now, just think of that. 
 
 * Slaves. 
 
 f Minhocoes are mythical animals of the Sertao, which are said 
 to bellow with a great noise. It is likely tliat they are monstrous 
 anacondas or water boas, that are known to make such noises when 
 disturbed. 
 
 2p
 
 212 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Why, wlien I heard it I was so beside myself with 
 rage that my mouth became so parched that I 
 could not swallow the saliva. Just think of it ! 
 The name of 'Nocencia amongst a lot of bichos ! 
 It seems even a mockery, a derision. Now I want 
 the doctor to tell me what I ought to do, or at least 
 try to help me. I cannot send a ball into that 
 rascal as he deserves, yet it is too much to have 
 him in the house. It is really too much. I ask 
 3'our counsel. Fortunately I have taken care to 
 keep him away from the house, and the girl has 
 no suspicion of anything. On the other hand, 
 woman as she is, she will yet give me enough to 
 do. And then again, I cannot imagine why 
 Manecao does not arrive. He is the only one who 
 can free me from this torment. Once that that 
 Grerman sees the girl with her husband I shall 
 then feel at ease. Don't you think so ? Look 
 you, on my word of honour, to be thus is not life. 
 I was made to say what I think, and treat every- 
 body well, but these moods that I have now, God 
 only knows what they cost me. Even my work 
 suffers, for my foreman is a good-for-nothing old 
 black, and, instead of looking after the negroes, 
 very often I have to leave the plantation and trot 
 after those blessed bichos, so that that Jew shall 
 not leave my sight. Ah ! My brother, what a
 
 FRESH ANECDOTES OF METER. 213 
 
 load you liavo put ou my slioulders ! 1, liowever, 
 was not born to hide what I feel within me," and 
 Pereira^ with his heart filled with his tribulations, 
 threw himself with desperation, rather than seated 
 himself, upon a mound of earth close by. 
 
 Cyrino, with an air of pensiveness, remained 
 standing in front of him, and finally, after a brief 
 moment of doubt, he decided to try his fortune and 
 broach the grave question which meant to him so 
 much happiness. 
 
 " Senhor Pereira/' said he, in a somewhat tremu- 
 lous voice, " I think the German does wrong to 
 chatter so much about a person of your famil}-, 
 and he has, indeed, furnished ample reasons for 
 your uneasiness of mind." 
 
 " Ah ! Doctor, you are indeed a man worthy of 
 all confidence." 
 
 " But/' continued the young man, with an effort, 
 and pausing at every word, " I think on one 
 point he had some reason. It was when — when he 
 gave you — counsel — that — that the Senhor should 
 not oblige your daughter to marry — like — well, 
 thus — as you purpose — without consulting her 
 wishes — if — if — well there, I don't know — but 
 perhaps the — the Manecao may not please 
 her " 
 
 Pereira in one bound sprang to his feet, and
 
 214 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 brouglit his face, suddenly inflamed witL. passion, 
 close to Cyrino's. 
 
 " Wliat ! " lie exclaimed, in a voice of tliunder. 
 " What ! I — I consult my daughter ? Ask her 
 permission to marry her ? The Senhor is crazy 
 or else mocking me. Ah ! — What ! Is it possible, 
 you also " 
 
 A gleam of some vague suspicion flashed from 
 his flaming eyes. Cyrino immediately perceived 
 the delicacy of the situation, and at once proceeded 
 to counteract the bad impression he had evidently 
 created. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " said he, with a simulated smile, 
 " It is true. I was quite thinking of the cus- 
 toms of the cities. Here in the Sertao you 
 Sertanejos have very different ideas. Pardon me, 
 Senhor Pereira, but really it is this Meyer who so 
 confounds my thoughts. Well, I believe — now 
 that you have asked my opinion — that the Senhor 
 should continue to keep an eye on the German, 
 and I will endeavour to help you, so far as lies in 
 my power. 
 
 Pereira little by little recovered his tranquillity. 
 
 ''Now,'' said he, after a short pause, " this state 
 of things cannot last much longer. More than a 
 month that bicho has stopped here, and he has 
 already told me that he will very soon proceed on
 
 FRESH ANECDOTES OF METER. 215 
 
 his journey to Campuan — but that is only his hum- 
 bug. He never intends to go there. Stilly it is 
 all the same things for one of these days he will 
 get a shot from hereabouts that will drive some 
 sense into his head^ or a knife will inquire what he 
 is made of. He won't always bo able to have 
 letters from one's brother to get him free from his 
 mischief. May the diabo take him far away ! 
 Well ! Let us return, Senhor Cyrino ; already 
 too long we have allowed the bicho to remain 
 alone." 
 
 Both men then returned towards the farm. 
 Cyrino, in the meanwhile, feeling thoroughly dis- 
 heartened ; for the tone of the conversation had 
 utterly destroyed such hopes as had previously 
 animated him of the chance of a happy issue to an 
 endeavour to oppose the projected marriage of his 
 lover with the fatal Manecao. Especially did he 
 feel depressed when, half way home, Pereira 
 abruptly turned to him and peremptorily ob- 
 served : 
 
 " Truly, Senhor Cyrino, those words of yours 
 so stirred up all my blood that I can yet feel it 
 coursing in a gallop through my veins."
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE PAPILIO INNOCENTIA. 
 
 Meyer, seated on tlie doorstep of the liouse, and 
 with, his long legs doubled up so that his knees 
 reached his chin,.no sooner perceived the approach 
 of Cyrino, than he precipitately arose to meet him. 
 His face was beaming with some pleasurable 
 excitement as though he was filled with joy and 
 triumph. 
 
 " Oh ! Senhor Doctor ! " he exclaimed. '' Come 
 here and see a precious thing — a discovery — a 
 new species, such as exists nowhere else. Do you 
 hear ? Such a bicho is worth a throne^ and it 
 was I who discovered it; even Juque did not help 
 iine, for he was lying down and sleeping. Am I 
 not right, Senhor Pereira ? " 
 
 " See," murmured the Mineiro, "" what a tre- 
 mendous row ho makes over his ' inesect.' One 
 would think it was at least some big animal." 
 
 Meyer again exulted with pride at his success.
 
 THE PJPILIO INNOCENTU. 217 
 
 " It is a new species — a new one, a new one ! " 
 he exclaimed excitedly. " It is already named — 
 I gave it a name at once — I will sliow it to you. 
 "Wait an instant." 
 
 Entering the room, he quickly returned with a 
 small tin box, which he carried with the utmost 
 reverence^ and whose cover he cautiously opened, 
 uttering, as he did so, an involuntary cry of ad- 
 miration, repeated also by Cyrino, although less 
 enthusiastically ; for, pinned to a sheet of cork 
 and with its wings half opened as though about 
 to flutter away, there was seen the wondrous sheen 
 of a huge and most beautiful butterfly. 
 
 The wings were of a most marvellous colour, 
 the upper sides being of the purest and most 
 delicate white, while the under sides were of the 
 most brilliant metallic blue. 
 
 Meyer pointed out that the insect represented 
 the combination of the two most beautiful lepi- 
 doptera of the woods of Rio de Janeiro — the 
 Laertes and the Adonis, the latter showing blues 
 equal to the purest tints of the heavens, the 
 former being as purely white as the petals of a 
 lily. 
 
 Without contestation, it was a most beautiful 
 specimen, a wonderful caprice of the splendid 
 nature of those regions. In the very exuberance
 
 21 8 INNOCENCU. 
 
 of liis contentment, Meyer could not keep quiet 
 a moment. 
 
 " This butterfly," said lie, as if his listeners 
 were two professors of the science, " belongs to 
 the family of Papilionidae, or swallow-tails, and I 
 at once denominated it Papilio Innocentia, in 
 honour of the daughter of Senhor Pereira, who 
 has treated me so well. I have every respect for 
 the great Linngeus (Meyer raised his hand to his 
 head in a salutation), but his classification is 
 already a little ancient. The class is therefore 
 Diurna, the order Lepidoptera, the genus Pa- 
 pilio, and the species Innocentia — my species, and 
 which no one can rob me of. I will write from here^ 
 even to-day, to the Entomological Society of Magde- 
 burg, and acquaint them with the fact." 
 
 Meyer delivered these sentences in an absolute 
 tone of boastfulness, and with a slowness truly 
 dogmatical. Afterwards, regardless of his lin- 
 guistical mistakes in Portuguese — which, for the 
 convenience of the readers, we have almost always 
 avoided repeating — he continued with even more 
 volubility : 
 
 " My Senhores ! With the eyes of science 
 observe this lepidoptera. It has four legs for 
 walking ; the antennse, with long and oval termi- 
 nations hollowed in the form of spoons ; the eyes.
 
 THE PAPILIO INNOCENTIA. 219 
 
 larger tlian tlie liead and scaly ; tlie sucker, all 
 white, witli scarcely any lips. I lost even nothing 
 of its fluffy for only a grain of it is worth, as much 
 as the feather of a bird ; and the comparison is 
 perfect, for we see that each one of these scales, 
 as in a feather, is traversed by a trachea, through 
 which circulates the air. Oh ! what a find it is ! " 
 he continued. " What a glory for me ! The 
 Entomological Society of Magdeburg ought indeed 
 to be very proud. Without doubt, they will call 
 a special extraordinary meeting. Mein Gott ! I 
 can hardly contain myself for joy ! In two or 
 three days more I shall be leaving this house." 
 
 ''^Eeally ?" anxiously inquired Pereira. 
 
 " Yes, sir. With this discovery I am perfectly 
 satisfied. My route will now be towards Cama- 
 puan. Afterwards I shall go to Miranda, and 
 perhaps on to Nioac. I shall have to ascend the 
 Eio Coxim, and thence embark for Cuyaba or go 
 by land to Pequiry." 
 
 "And will the Senhor then return to his own 
 country ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! A year and a half hence I hope 
 to present my collections to the Entomological 
 Society, all arranged in order." 
 
 " Man," observed Pereiro, with a meaning that 
 his guest could not possibly in the least perceive.
 
 220 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 " I long to see that day. A year and a lialf hence, 
 wliat changes the world will show ! " 
 
 '*■ I shall have traversed/' Meyer gravely re- 
 plied, '' eighteen signs of the zodiac." 
 
 "Very well, that is just what I want to see. 
 That day I am impatient for, it already delays." 
 
 " When it arrives," continued the German, 
 with some emotion and true sincerity, ^'I shall 
 think with gratitude of the treatment I received 
 in the Sertoes of this Empire, and I shall have to 
 tell — aloud, so that all can hear — that the 
 Brazilians — are — are kind and good, for they are 
 endued with good morals and a kindly nature." 
 
 "Just also add," interrupted Pereira, with some 
 bitterness, " and they watch with every care over 
 the honour of their families " 
 
 Meyer docilely obeyed, and repeated word for 
 word : 
 
 " And they watch with every care over the 
 honour of their families." 
 
 " Very good,'' grimly replied the Mineiro, "say 
 that, and the Senhor will have said the truth."
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 MEYEK DEPAKTS. 
 
 In tlie meanwliile^ the arrival of tlie sick and 
 infirm^ who, from many leagues around, had come 
 to consult Cyrino, had not ceased, and so many 
 were the cases of intermittent fever for which he 
 had had to prescribe, that for some time past his 
 stock of quinine had been exhausted, and he had 
 been obliged to substitute for it the employment of 
 certain indigenous plants of the campos and some 
 dried herbs which he had received from some 
 Bolivian quacks, men whom he had encountered 
 on his travels in Minas Geraes, who had journeyed 
 from Santa Cruz de la Sierra with the view of 
 treating the sick people of the interior of Brazil. 
 
 Amongst the infirm, who daily arrived in quest 
 of Cyrino, some complained of ailments which
 
 222 INNOCENCU. 
 
 were completely unknown to him ; such, for in- 
 stance, as those designated the "swallow" sick- 
 ness, the fallen spine, the halting sickness, the 
 dog's cough, incurable wounds, &c. He who com- 
 plained of the swallow sickness ( ' mal de en- 
 gasgue ' ) was the owner of a f azenda called Vao, 
 a good two hundred miles away. 
 
 " Senhor Doctor," said the invalid, '' my life is 
 one continual struggle with suffering. On St. 
 Johns's day, I shall have had this complaint five 
 years. For a long time I have been unable to 
 swallow anything without first drinking a few 
 drops of water, and I become so wearied with 
 everything that I am always restlessly moving 
 from one place to another.''^ 
 
 '' Do you feel any pain ? " inquired Cyrino. 
 
 "Always," replied the fazendeiro. "What 
 troubles me most is, that though famishing with 
 hunger, yet, in the midst of food, I cannot get any 
 beyond my mouth. It is a fast in punishment 
 for my sins. No sooner do I put anything, no 
 matter how small, into my mouth, than my throat 
 feels as if there were a big ball running u]} and 
 down it.'' 
 
 The "medico" absolutely failed in this, as in many 
 others, to diagnose the complaint, and prescribed 
 some doses of the innocent "sailors'" herb " (herva
 
 METER DEPARTS. 223 
 
 de marinheiro), and tendered some advice to which, 
 the infirm one most religiously listened. 
 
 The unhappy young man thus filled up his time 
 in the curing, or the attempting to cure, all the 
 sick and infirm who came to him from far and 
 near, yet he himself needed, as much as any of 
 them, a cure for his sickness of mind. 
 
 He sorrowfully witnessed the preparations of 
 Meyer for departure, and on the eve of leaving 
 him, Cyrino, alone with Pereira. The latter at 
 last had begun to see the delusion under which he 
 had laboured ; and, as the medical practice of his 
 guest was all but exhausted, he had already sug- 
 gested to Cyrino the advisability of removing him- 
 self to some other region and to continue his pro- 
 jected tour. All this, added to the increased 
 fervour of his passion, served to utterly destroy 
 the young man's peace, to emaciate his frame, 
 and consume him as with a slow fire. 
 
 Meyer, since the finding of the magnificent 
 butterfly, had thought only of his dei3arture. 
 
 " Oh ! " said he, " would that already I were in 
 Magdeburg. But what a distance it is ! What 
 leagues away ! Ah ! Pajjilio Innocentia. Thou 
 art indeed my glory ! What say you, Senhor 
 Cyrino ? " 
 
 '^ It is true. But who knows, if the Senhor
 
 224 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 were to remain here a little longer^ perhaps lie 
 miglit find yet anotlier new butterfly ? " 
 
 '' No, tliat is impossible. That would be too 
 mucli happiness. Besides, my money will not last 
 out." 
 
 '' I can lend you some." 
 
 " Thank you very much, but to stop here any 
 longer is altogether impossible. Do you see, I 
 have yet to go on to Camapuan, to Miranda, to 
 Cuyaba, and thence return, and I have only a few 
 months in which to do it all. The Entomological 
 Society of Magdeburg count upon seeing me in 
 the spring of the coming year." 
 
 Once that this idea entered the mind of Meyer, 
 he ceased not for an instant to talk of his depar- 
 ture, and in order to put into execution his inten- 
 tions, on the afternoon of the following day he 
 sent Jose Pinho to load up the mules, a proceeding 
 which he inspected with every care. 
 
 At this moment Jose Pinho judged it expedient 
 to lodge a formal protest. 
 
 " Mochu," said he, " is about to recommence his 
 mode of travelling these roads at night. I know 
 it will only end in our tumbling down some preci- 
 pice, I, the Senhor, the mules, the loads, and the 
 bichos, and neither shall I arrive in Rio de Janeiro 
 nor he in his country. AVell, I am already tired
 
 METER DEPARTS. 225 
 
 of warning liim. I have said my say, and. there's 
 an end of it." 
 
 On the occasion of the departure, the naturalist 
 presented that same aspect which he showed on 
 the day of his arrivah There was the same array 
 of flasks and other appendages attached to his 
 cross-belt, the same queer costume, that same 
 tranquil air and good-natured expression as 
 when, at midnight, he sought the hospitality of 
 Pereira. 
 
 This latter individual, on seeing his guest 
 mounted and ready to leave the homestead for ever, 
 was filled with joy; at the same time, with the 
 admiration he felt for the German, he could not 
 conquer a certain internal disturbance of feeling. 
 In the dejjths of his conscience, he commenced 
 to doubt if his apprehensions had not been ill- 
 founded, and for the moment he allowed himself 
 to be carried away by the sympathy which the 
 mild and naturally inoffensive character of the 
 Saxon produced upon all who knew him. 
 
 " The hour has arrived," declared Meyer, and 
 clasping with a firm and honest grasp the hand 
 of Pereira, '' Senhor Pereira,"' said he, " adieu ! 
 Never more shall we meet again, yet I shall think 
 of you all my life. When I am in my country, 
 thousands and thousands of leagues away —
 
 226 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 my memory will recall tlie liappy days I passed 
 liere." 
 
 " Oil ! Senlior Meyer," stammered Pereira. 
 
 "Yes, indeed liappy days,"' continued Meyer 
 very slowly. ''Happy, for tliey passed away 
 without my perceiving tlie lapse of time. This 
 housCj your home, will, above all others in Brazil, 
 be ever the most vivid and brightest spot in my 
 recollections." 
 
 In order to emphasise the force of his con- 
 victions, the German struck his clenched fist in 
 the open palm of the other hand, and then, turning 
 to Oja-ino, he added : 
 
 " Senhor Doctor, your prescriptions are all en- 
 tered in my note-book. Sometimes you make 
 mistakes, it is true, but as your intentions are 
 always for the best, "that will excuse them. I ■" 
 
 Interrupting what he was about to say, he 
 paused a few seconds to wistfully gaze at Pereira 
 and Cyrino, who were equally silent ; a long tear 
 trickled down his face, but without in the least 
 disturbing his otherwise placid physiognomy. 
 
 " Adieu my friends ! " he suddenly uttered. 
 
 '' A good journey to you, Senhor Meyer ! a good 
 journey to you," joyfully replied Pcreii-a. 
 
 " Adieu ! Adieu ! " repeated Meyer, and then 
 addressing his man, " Juque," said hC; '' Go on in
 
 
 
 t':"-;3s^N-.>T':'4', ; 
 
 mm 
 
 
 
 § 
 
 o
 
 METER DEPARTS. 227 
 
 front. Be gentle with tlie little mule. We sliall 
 rest about half a league hence.'^ 
 
 Meyer then seized the reins and proceeded at 
 a walking pace behind Jose Pinho^ who was armed 
 with a stout staff evidently intended to be used 
 on the quarters of the mule committed to his 
 care. 
 
 " There goes the bicho ! " exclaimed Pereira, 
 on seeing the tails of the little troop. Ah ! What 
 a relief it is to be sure ! Yet after allj poor fellow, 
 he was not a bad sort ; but he had no manners, you 
 know. Phew ! All my life long I shall never 
 forget that Meyer ! It icas a campaign. Wah ! 
 Look, Senhor Cyrino ! Is he not returning ? Has 
 he forgotten anything ? " 
 
 The German was indeed returning, and he 
 seemed to be in search of, or about to say, some- 
 thing of importance. 
 
 ''Well, what is it?" inquired Pereira, raising 
 his voice. " Have you left someihing behind ? 
 You must look sharp, for it will be dark soon.'^ 
 
 As Meyer approached, he replied, " I have left 
 nothing, Senhor Pereira, but I omitted to perform 
 a duty." 
 
 " What is that ?" inquired the Mineiro. 
 
 " I did not say good-bye to your daughter." 
 
 " Oh ! don't trouble yourself about that," Pe- 
 
 q2
 
 228 INNOCENCU. 
 
 reira hastily replied. " It is not at all necessary; 
 besides, she is now sleeping-^ and is not very well. 
 She complained of a headache a short time ago. 
 I will tell her what you say." 
 
 " Well then," observed Meyer very gravely, 
 " tell her, that wherever I may be, she will always 
 find in me a willing servant and a sincere friend. 
 For ever her name will be known to science, and 
 by me will be remembered as long as I live, for 
 the esteem I have for her is very great. She is 
 really a most beautiful girl, and should rather be 
 an ornament to European society than one of the 
 neglected wild flowers of the campos." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly,^' interrupted Pereira. 
 " Go, go without fear." 
 
 " Yes, I will go. Adieu, my friends." 
 
 " Go then at once, for look you, the sun is sinking 
 behind yonder wood, and night soon will fall." 
 
 " Yes, yes. Adieu ! Adieu ! " the German re- 
 peated, and finally went on his way. 
 
 Along the far-exteuding sandy road the shadow 
 of the good Meyer, as he marched onwards behind 
 his man, his pack-mule, and collections, became 
 longer and longer in the rays of the setting sun.
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII. 
 
 THE LAST INTERVIEW. 
 
 After the departure of Meyer, Pereira returned 
 to sleep at niglit in the rear, or that part of the 
 house reserved as the sanctuary of the family, 
 and as he also passed the greater part of his time 
 there, any further meetings of the two lovers 
 seemed absolutely impossible ; besides this, his 
 attention, no longer having the object to which 
 it had been constantly directed during the stay 
 of the German, commenced to return to Cyrino, 
 to whom he confessed he had treated Meyer with 
 unmerited opprobrium. 
 
 '' Now," said the Minciro, '' my conscience 
 really pains me for the way I treated that man. 
 ^Yho knows if all 1 thought was only an illusion 
 of my mind ? Ah, Senhor Cyrino, when people 
 begin to get suspicious they are on the way to
 
 230 INNOCENCU. 
 
 get fooled. Yes^ sir^ I am now convinced tliat 
 the German was a good and sincere man. He 
 saw the girl and found her pretty, and then 
 uttered all that bundle of nonsense, without 
 meaning any harm by it. He who says what he 
 thinks is he who can be trusted. Sometimes the 
 danger comes from whence we least expect. Well, 
 after all, I do not repent very much for doing 
 what I have done. I had reason to fear, and 
 accordingly I took precautions." 
 
 These and similar remarks furnished ample 
 occasion for reflection on the part of Cyrino. 
 From any one hour to another he well knew that 
 the inquisitorial views of his host might be 
 directed to himself and render his position un- 
 tenable. 
 
 Meanwhile he sought to procure another inter- 
 view with Innocencia. Great were the difficulties 
 that lay in the way, and the only means that 
 offered was to seek a renewal of the nocturnal 
 meetings, and thus, during many successive nights, 
 he passed his vigils in the orange-grove, watching 
 with steadfast eyes the window of Innocencia's 
 room. Finally, one night, just before dawn, his 
 patience was rewarded, for then at last he per- 
 ceived at the window the figure of his well-be- 
 loved.
 
 THE LAST INTERVIEW. 231 
 
 In an instant lie was with. liei% and^ eagerly 
 grasping- her hands, he exclaimed, " At last ! At 
 last ! I a^m with, you ! " 
 
 '^ My father may awaken/' whispered the girl, 
 so softly that her words were hardly more audible 
 thian the murmur of the night breeze. 
 
 ^'\ care not," Cyrino hoarsely replied; "let 
 him discover all ; I can exist like this no longer." 
 
 '^ Hush-sh ! "' she observed; ^'^take care; if he 
 finds us here he will kill us both. Listen ; go 
 and wait for me close to the stream by the orange- 
 grove ; in a little while I will be with Mece. The 
 door is not fastened." 
 
 The young man made signs that he would obey, 
 and incontinently disappeared amidst the shadows 
 of the orange-trees. 
 
 At that hour the gleams of a waning moon 
 spread a feeble light upon the land, seeming as 
 the forerunner of another and stronger light, 
 about to irradiate with all its splendour the yet 
 sleeping nature, and inspire it v/ith coming ani- 
 mation and joy. Amidst the branches of the 
 orange-trees were heard the rustle of birds about 
 to awake ; here and there a suppressed warble or 
 chirrup, or the flutter of a wing, while afar off 
 an early-rising thrush trilled his notes — a clear 
 and harmonious sound amidst the silence of the
 
 232 INNGCENCU. 
 
 hour. In tlie east a faint crimson flusli announced 
 the first glimmer of dawn amidst the fading 
 hghts of the starr}^ heavens. In the west^ en- 
 circled by a broad and 3'ellowish aureola, yet 
 lingered the pale moon. 
 
 Cyrino was so agitated that he was obliged to 
 seat himself whilst awaiting the approach of 
 Innocencia. 
 
 She delayed not long. She came clad in a 
 short-skirted dress of coarse cotton cloth, her 
 head enveloped in a mantle of the same material, 
 the folds of which her hands clasped to her reck. 
 Her feet were bare, and the firm manner in which 
 she trod the thorn and pine-strewn ground showed 
 that they were well habituated to such rough treat- 
 ment, yet withal, in nowise had they lost any of 
 their primitive elegance and delicacy of form. 
 
 She seemed terribly frightened, and her eyes 
 filled with tears. 
 
 The youth, immediately he saw her, rushed 
 forward to meet her. 
 
 " Innocencia," he exclaimed, on noting a trem- 
 bling gesture of fear, " fear nothing from me. I 
 shall respect you as if you were a saint. Do you 
 not then confide in me ? " 
 
 ''Yes!^^ she hastily replied. ''Otherwise I 
 would not have come, but, nevertheless, my face
 
 THE LAST INTERVIEW. 233 
 
 is burning witli sliame " And carrying one 
 
 of the hands of Cyrino to her cheeks she continued, 
 " Feel, Cyrino, how my face is a very fire. Oh ! 
 why is it that Mece comes to disturb me so ? Be- 
 fore this I was a happy contented girl, but now — 
 ah ! if Mece cares for me no more — ah, me ! I 
 fear I shall die ! " 
 
 '• No ! no ! " the young man earnestly exclaimed. 
 " If on that depends your life, then, indeed, you 
 will live to eternity.'" 
 
 " Eeally ? " 
 
 '' I swear to you, it is easier to suddenly extin- 
 guish the light of all yonder stars than that I 
 could cease to love thee " 
 
 " But Manecao ? " she suggested in a voice of 
 terror. 
 
 " Ah ! That man. Ever that cursed name ! '' 
 
 " But he will be my husband " 
 
 "That; never, Innocencia ! It is impossible! 
 Everything may happen except that. And if we 
 fly ? Listen ! To-morrow at this hour, or even 
 earlier, I will bring here two good animals ; you 
 shall mount one, I the other ; then we will speed 
 onwards towards S. Anna, and by constantly 
 galloping we will soon reach Uberaba, where we 
 will find a padre to marry us. Let us go. Do 
 you hear ? "
 
 234 
 
 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " And will Mece esteem me all his life ? " 
 " A.J, tliat would I, if it lasted for ever. Say- 
 yes, for tlie ''Amor de Deus.' Speak, and we are 
 saved ! " 
 
 " And my father, Cyrino ? Oli ! what is to be 
 done ? He would curse me. I should be a lost 
 woman — an abandoned woman — without the bless- 
 ing of a father. No ! Mece is tempting me — No ! 
 I will not fly — rather would I suffer misery all my 
 life, but then I shall always be what my name 
 says I am, although so sinful in doing what I do. 
 Mece is a young man from the cities, and thinks 
 nothing of deceiving such a poor girl as I. 
 
 Even " 
 
 "^^ Very well," interrupted Cyrino. " It is then 
 decided. You will not go with me. Let us say 
 no more about it. I want to do nothing except 
 such as you consider good, and if finally I decide 
 
 to speak to your father " 
 
 " Heaven protect us ! " she ejaculated. " I 
 thought at first that it might be, but afterwards I 
 saw that it would only make things worse. Mece 
 knows not what means the word of a Mineiro ; 
 iron breaks, but that never — Manecao will have to 
 be his son-in-law." 
 
 " Who knows, Innocencia ? I will beg, pray, 
 and entreat, with such humility "
 
 THE LAST INTERVIEW. 235 
 
 " Psliaw ! What vain hopes ! They will serve 
 you nothing." 
 
 '^ Then what can be done ? " cried the young 
 man in despair. '' To what saint can we appeal ? 
 Why is it that Heaven sends us such misery ? " 
 And burying his face in his hands, the youth wept 
 bitterly. 
 
 Innocencia on her part laid her head on the 
 shoulders of her lover, and both cried like the 
 children they really were. She was the first to 
 break the silence. 
 
 '''' Ah ! meu Deus ! if my godfather wished " 
 
 " Tour godfather ? " inquired Cyrino. " Who 
 is he ? ^' 
 
 ^' He is a man who lives away there by Parana- 
 hybas, in the region of the Geraes." 
 
 " Where ? Is it far ? '' 
 
 " It is some distance, not very near. Does Mece 
 know the Senhor Padua ? " 
 
 " I know him. He lives about sixty-four miles 
 from the Rio Pai-anahyba." 
 
 " Well, that is where my godfather lives, to the 
 left of the fazenda of Padua, on some lands re- 
 ceived from the government." 
 
 " And how is he called ? " 
 
 '' Antonio Cesario. My father is indebted to 
 him for money and docs anything he orders. If
 
 236 INNOCENCU. 
 
 he says but tlic word Manecao will find himself 
 baffled." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Cjrino excitedly. " Then 
 we are saved ! To-morrow I will mount and ride 
 there. From here to the town is only twenty- 
 eight miles^ and to there about sixty-eight. It is 
 merely an excursion — I arrive — I tell him all — 
 
 and then follow vcij trail to your feet, and " 
 
 " But/' interrupted Innocencia, " do not men- 
 tion me, do you hear ? Say nothing about having 
 arranged anything with me. 1 have nothing 
 to do with it, do you understand ? or else every- 
 thing will be lost. Invent some story — make out 
 that you are rich — do not let him imagine that 
 it was I who bid vou knock at his door. Ah me ! 
 with suspicious peo^Dle one has to know how to 
 negotiate/'' 
 
 "Ah! men Deus ! " exclaimed Cyrino, in an 
 ecstasy of joy, " we are saved ! There is no doubt 
 of it. I see now how everything must happen. 
 After a day or two's stay with him I will disclose 
 everything, then the old man writes a letter to 
 your father, and, if it does not remove Manecao 
 at once, it will at least gain time. I am already 
 anxious to be mounted on my old mule and on the 
 road. Two days to go, two to return, and two or 
 three to stop there, in more or less than a week I
 
 THE LAST INTERVIEJV. 237 
 
 shall be back again, bringing witli me my happi- 
 ness or my misery. No ! I have faith in Nossa 
 Senhora de Abbadia. She will hel]^ us, and 
 together we shall j^et fulfil the promises we have 
 made her.''' 
 
 '^ What promises ? " inquired Innocencia, with 
 curiosity. 
 
 '' That we shall go on foot from here to the 
 town and place two blessed candles on the altar 
 of Nossa Senhora." 
 
 " Yes !'' earnestly replied the girl, "I swear I 
 will — even if it were to go to the end of the 
 world." 
 
 "■ Oh ! my saint of Paradise ! " exclaimed Cja'ino, 
 as he clasped the girl to his breast. '^ Ah ! how 
 I love thee ! " 
 
 Thus they remained embraced in each other's 
 arms while day slowly dawned in the firmament, 
 and rays of undecided light fell upon the earth as 
 if seeking to sound the depths of darkness. The 
 birds softly twittered and chirruped, preparing 
 their little throats for the matutinal concert, and 
 the dew of night, ascending in filmy clouds to the 
 heavens, moistened the foliage of the trees and 
 jewelled the points of the grasses and dwarf 
 vegetation with jems that glistened like diamonds. 
 Far away, by the borders of some stream, the
 
 238 INNOCENCU. 
 
 macaws screeclied "witli liarsli but sonorous cries, 
 and tlie macuan sent over tlie solitudes tlie pro- 
 longed notes of Ms brazen throat. 
 
 " It is day/' observed Innocencia, witlidrawing 
 herself from the arms of Cjrino. 
 
 " Already ! " he regretfully exclaimed. 
 
 '^MeuDeus, and I have yet to return to the 
 house — I must go now/' 
 
 " Then I will depart even to-day/' said the 
 young man. 
 
 '' Yes, do." 
 
 " And in the coming week I will be back again." 
 
 "Very well. Take with you this certainty, that 
 my life or my death depends on my godfather." 
 
 "And mine also," replied the youth, fervently 
 kissing her hands. 
 
 "Leave me — leave me,'' she implored. "Adieu! 
 Ah ! I am so fearful ! Happily no one has seen 
 me. Ah ! Listen " 
 
 At this moment, and as if in response to the 
 assertion^ there sounded from the orange-grove 
 that same sharp whistle which had so startled the 
 two lovers on the first of their meetings. 
 
 Innocencia trembled so violently that she nearly 
 fell to the ground. " Men Deus ! " she stammered. 
 " It is an omen of warning. But who knows if it 
 is not some human being ? "
 
 THE LAST INTERVIEW. 239 
 
 The wliistle was followed by a kind of mocking- 
 laugliter wliich froze the blood in the veins of the 
 lovers. The girl, in a tremor of fright, clutched 
 Cyrino by his arms. 
 
 " It is a soul from the other world/' she mur- 
 mured, as she crossed herself. 
 
 The youth, however, maintained his presence of 
 mind, and, invoking the aid of S. Miguel, he made 
 the sign of the Cross in the direction of the four 
 cardinal points, then, supporting the girl in his 
 arms, he hastily crossed the orchard and leffc her 
 close to the half-opened back door of the house, 
 which he thought had been blown open b}^ the 
 wind. 
 
 Innocencia nearly fainted, but, gathei'ing her 
 strength, she was enabled to enter the house, and, 
 Avith a cautious but trembling hand, drew the bolt 
 inside. 
 
 As soon as he was thus assured of her safet}', 
 Cyrino hurried back to the orchard, and, as before, 
 he again commenced to traverse it in every direc- 
 tion, seeking to discover, in the dawning light of 
 day, whether it was some human being- or else some 
 ghostly phantom who thus was sporting with him. 
 
 Just as he was about to pass by a densely- 
 foliaged orange-tree, he suddenly perceived amidst 
 the boughs above him a dark, ill-defined form
 
 24-0 INNOCENCU. 
 
 which immediately descended and almost fell 
 upon him, amidst a shower of broken twigs and 
 branches, and as it struck the ground, it uttered a 
 strange unearthly cry. 
 
 " Holy Cross ! Avaunt thee, fiend ! " cried the 
 young man, and, phantom-like, a small creature 
 passed between his legs and disappeared amid the 
 yet dark shadows of the trees. 
 
 Cj^rino remained still with hair on end, eyes 
 fixed, and limbs paralysed with fright, his dry 
 lips stuttering an exorcism, and his legs trembling 
 as if they were green saplings quivering in the 
 wind. A voice some distance away recalled him 
 to his senses. It was that of Pereira, who, with 
 his hands forming a trumpet to his mouth, was 
 shouting to one of his slaves. 
 
 " Fire, Jose ! " he exclaimed. " If it is some 
 soul of the other world or a wolf- man * the ball 
 will not harm him, but if it is anything human, so 
 much the better. Fire ! " 
 
 The report of a gun followed, and a ball, whist- 
 ling by the ears of Cyrino, buried itself in the 
 trunk of a tree close bv. 
 
 The young man waited not for another, and, 
 
 * A wolf-man (Lobishomen) is a creation of Brazilian super- 
 stition.— [Tranf^l.]
 
 THE LAST INTERVIEW. 241 
 
 favoured by the yet prevalent obscurity, lie burried 
 away in the direction of the front of the house, 
 and had barely entered the guests' room when 
 Pereira appeared at the door. 
 
 "What was that ?" Cyrino inquired, as with a 
 strong effort he composed his countenance. 
 
 " I don't know," responded the Mineiro. " There 
 was a hurly-burly of squeals and squawls at day- 
 break that sounded like a lot of hobgoblins fresh 
 from inferno. The little one w^as in such a state 
 of terror that I thought she would die of fright. I 
 believe it was the soul of ' the collector ' * pi'owl- 
 ing round the house. May it not be an omen of 
 evil ? The Senhora Sant' Anna protect us." 
 
 " Well, I slept like a lump of lead," said Cyrino 
 unblushingly. "The report of your shot awoke 
 me. 
 
 " Well, you can't drop off again now, because in 
 an instant or two the sun will be up and give 
 us broad daylight." 
 
 * This collector of whom rereira spoke, and whose soul is saitl 
 by the Scrtancjos to wander about the region of Sant' Anna de 
 Paranahyba, was a public cmjyloye, who was prosecuted and im- 
 prisoned, after being convicted of felony in the discharge of his 
 duties. lie died in prison, and, as the State seipiestrated all his 
 belongings, his excellent homestead fell into abandonment and rum. 
 
 B
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE TOWN OF SANT^ ANNA. 
 
 The same day Cyrino mountecT liis mule, and, on 
 taking leave of Pereira, informed liim tliat lie 
 would be absent for a week more or less, giving as 
 a reason for so unexpected a journey, not only the 
 necessity of visiting some distant patients but also 
 of procuring some remedies Vv^bich be required. 
 
 From tbe bouse of Pereira to tbat of Albino 
 Lata tbe road is so sbady and pleasant tbat tbese 
 twelve miles were easily covered. From here, 
 bowever, commence tbe open and rolling grass 
 lands of tbe campos, extending over a distance of 
 sixteen miles, close to tbe town of Sant' Anna ; 
 and, under tbe ardent rays of tbe mid-day sun, 
 tbey are a somewbat weary stretcb for tbe tra- 
 veller, especially one witb a troubled mind, for 
 physical inconvenience only augments mental 
 irritation.
 
 THE TOWN OF SJNV ANNA. 243 
 
 As Cyrino passed over those sandy plains, 
 weltering in tlie scorching heat o£ the sun, all 
 the hopefulness which had buoyed him up as he 
 wended his way through the soft shades of the 
 first part of the road now seemed to disappear, 
 and give place to a disconsolate and forlorn sense 
 of despair of a happy exit out of the doubts sur- 
 rounding the motive of his journey. Dejected and 
 pale with anxiety, he allowed the reins of his 
 animal to fall upon its neck, and it to proceed at 
 a slow pace — in sympathy, as it were, with the 
 dolorous forebodings of its rider. 
 
 "What shall I do?" he thought to himself. 
 " How shall I broach the subject ? " 
 
 So great was his despondency that he almost 
 arrived at the pitch of cursing the beloved one of 
 his heart. 
 
 " Unhappy was the hour when first I saw that 
 woman ! Otherwise I could have gone on my way 
 in peace. But now — ah ! her eyes haunt me and 
 lead me on to destruction — a beckonino: finsfer, that, 
 whether I will or not, I must follow even if it leads 
 
 me to Yet, ah! Innocencia," he exclaimed, in a 
 
 contrite voice, ^' pardon me, Innocencia, my angel. 
 I am even cursing the hour of the birth of my 
 happiness — I, who can fly if I would ; but you, a 
 
 E 2
 
 244 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 prisoner in your liome ! No ! Unliappy me, I 
 alone am to blame." 
 
 Thus steeped in melanclioly tlionglit lie arrived 
 at tlie town of Sant' Anna de Paranaliyba. 
 
 From a distance, the aspect of the town is pic- 
 turesque in the extreme. On the edge of the wild 
 moorlands of the Sertao of Mato Grosso^ and 
 situated on the spur of a low range of hills, it rises 
 up above, and overlooks, the surrounding plains. 
 That, however, which gives it such an especial 
 •charm to any one seeing it from afar, is the ap- 
 pearance of the vast orange-groves surrounding 
 the town, and yearly crowned with thousands of 
 golden fruit, and amidst which are dotted the 
 white- walled and red-tiled houses of the town, 
 while, high above the dark green foliage of the 
 trees, rises the cross of the modest church. 
 
 Crossing a brook of gurgling limpid waters, and 
 ascending a stony ascent, lined right and left by 
 little adobe-walled houses and palm-leaf or straw- _ 
 thatched huts, one reaches the principal street, 
 whose most prominent feature is a spacious old- 
 fashioned house of two stories. An iron verandah 
 extends the whole length of the front, over which 
 the roof projects in a motherly sort uf way as if it 
 would shelter the whole house from the torrid rays 
 of the sun.
 
 THE TOWN OF S ANT ANNA. 245 
 
 It was here that resided the Major Martinho de 
 Mello Taques^ and in his dry goods store on the 
 ground floor were accustomed to congregate all the 
 gossips of the place to discuss politics and local 
 scandals. 
 
 In that silent street, which impresses one so 
 forcibly as the melancholy type of a decadent 
 centre of a decadent population, the prevailing 
 monotony would be now and then disturbed by 
 the clouds of dust raised by the arrival of a mule- 
 troop, an incident which would attract to every 
 window the lean, sallow faces of women, or to the 
 doors the pallid forms of children, pot-bellied 
 from the habit of earth-eating or the fevers of 
 the Eio Paranahyba. Also on Sundays, at the 
 hour of mass, would congregate many old women, 
 enveloped in mantilhas, and accompanied by other 
 younger females, clad in long black cloaks reach- 
 ing to their heels, and wearing the high combs 
 so fashionable in years gone by. 
 
 Cyrino rode through the town, and, as he 
 passed the residence of the major he waved a 
 salutation to that individual, as he did not intend 
 to stop to speak to him. 
 
 The major, as usual, was seated on his counter, 
 and, surrounded by the elite of the society of the 
 place, he was recounting to them many an oft-
 
 246 INNOCENCU. 
 
 told tale — not only his own exploits, but also 
 those of the old pioneers of the Sertao, anecdotes 
 which were ever ready at the tip of his tongue. 
 
 " There goes the doctor," said one of those 
 present. 
 
 " Halloa, Senhor Cyrino ! " shouted the major, 
 running to the doorway; " what is it that brings 
 you here ? What is your hurry ? Stop a moment, 
 won^t you ? '' 
 
 Cyrino pulled up his animal at these words. 
 
 "The truth is," said he, " I am on a journey, 
 but not a very loug one. I shall probably be 
 back again in eight or ten days." 
 
 The whole human contents of the store had by 
 this time sallied out to the street, where the youth 
 was at once surrounded by the little crowd of idle 
 gossips, some almost treading on the hoofs of the 
 mule, others stroking its neck or playing with the 
 reins, as their idle fancy induced them, while 
 each one pressed forward with curiosity depicted 
 on his or her face. 
 
 The major comprehended the situation at a 
 glance. 
 
 " Every one has his own private affairs to at- 
 tend to," he observed, by way of commencement 
 of an inquisition, " but, if it is no secret, what 
 the diabo signifies this return hero ? "
 
 THE TOTVN OF SANV ANNA. 247 
 
 " He ought to bo far away from liere now," 
 observed one man. ''It is nearly two months 
 since be left " 
 
 " Wait," interrupted tbe padre of tbe town ; " it 
 is not so, it is not yet two montbs. Tbe doctor 
 passed along tbis very street just one montb and 
 twenty -two days ago at eigbt o'clock in tbe morn- 
 
 ing.- 
 
 (' Very well, tben," continued tbe major, " be 
 bas already bad more tban enougb time to be out 
 tbere by Miranda/' 
 
 " Tbat is if I was travelling ligbt," replied 
 Cyrino ; " but you see I bave baggage mules, and 
 besides, I stop bere and tbere to treat tbe sick." 
 
 " Ab ! truly ! " confirmed tbe collector (a long 
 lanky man wearing an old-fasbioned tall ' cbimney- 
 pot' silk bat). " Tbey do not tbink of tbat. All 
 tbey tbink about is talk — talk " 
 
 " I bope you do not refer to me," interrupted 
 tbe padi-e in an irascible tone. 
 
 "Whoever thought of doing so, Senbor Padre?" 
 hastily protested the other. " I speak in general, 
 in general, you know, I do not " 
 
 " But, doctor," tbe major cut in, "where have 
 you been staying all this time ? In some fazenda, 
 
 eh?" 
 
 As tbe cross-examination promised to last some
 
 248 INNOCENCU. 
 
 time, it was absolutely necessary to devise some 
 means to stop it. 
 
 " I have already been close to Sucuriu/' said 
 Cyrino, somewliat perturbed, "in tlie " 
 
 " It is not so very near as tliat/' observed tlie 
 padre. " Once I " 
 
 "^ow listen, Senlior Padre," ejaculated tbe col- 
 lector, wlio showed signs of some long-standing 
 anlagonism to the priest. " The young man never 
 said it might be close to here.^' 
 
 The major repeated the words of Cyrino, some- 
 what accentuating them. "Then the Senhor Doc- 
 tor has been nearly close to Sucuriu ? Is it not 
 so?" 
 
 " It is a fact. There I met a person who, for 
 some time, has owed me some money .'^ 
 
 " Some money P^'' inquired the padre. " A per- 
 son ? What person? Who might it be now, eh?" 
 
 " Now whoever can it be ? " chorused a few 
 voices. 
 
 The major implacably proceeded : " Let the 
 doctor explain. You people make quite an ' al- 
 gazarra '" ( a shout, a noise).* 
 
 * This wor.l has been left in because it is interesting to sec how 
 such a distinctly Moorish word is yet used by country Brnzilians 
 in the backwoods of the Empire, for " algazarra " was the war-cry 
 of the Moors. — [Transl.]
 
 THE TOWN OF SJNV ANNA. 2+9 
 
 Almost stammering, Cyrino sought to continue : 
 
 "Yes — it was a muleteer — lie sent to me an 
 order to receive payment — from — from a relative ; 
 I also liad to pay tlie — the other person — that — 
 that—" 
 
 " Wait a moment," interrupted the major; " then 
 you had to receive money and pay it back, eh ? 
 Is it not all the same thing ? " 
 
 " Why of course it is/' added several of the 
 bystanders. 
 
 Cyrino abruptly ceased his explanations. 
 
 " W^ell," said he, "I shall be very soon returning 
 here. I have to go a little beyond the river 
 there." 
 
 " Do you go to Melancia ? " inquired rhe col- 
 lector, haphazardly using the name of a well- 
 known halting place for travellers. 
 
 '^ Further on/' responded the young man, who, 
 seeing the utter impossibility of honourably evad- 
 ing the examination, altered his tactics, and ad- 
 dressing the major, said, " On my return I shall 
 have to purchase some sheeting and calicoes of 
 
 you." 
 
 "Ha! ha! T knew it," boisterously ejaculated 
 the padre. "The doctor is going to get married." 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! " observed some one. " Why so much 
 secrecv? No one wants to rob him of his bride."
 
 250 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " Above all/' pondered tlie padre^ "■ wlien tlie 
 business lias to go tbrougb my bauds/^ 
 
 Tbe sudden reserve and tbe silence of Cyrino 
 wliicb followed tliese remarks gave occasion^ for 
 tbe moment, to many observations. 
 " I congratulate you/' said one man. 
 " But wbo is tbe fortunate one of tbe Sertao ? " 
 inquired otbers. 
 
 '' Meus Senbors/' cried tbe youtb, seeking to 
 rebuke tbe assumption. " It is notbing at all.''' 
 
 Tbe padre, bowever, proceeded : " If you want 
 a bit of advice, just burry, for tben I sliall be able 
 to knock over two rabbits witb one blow of a stick, 
 tbat is, if I marry tbe Senbor and tbe Manecao at 
 tbe same time." 
 
 " All ! so you can," cried several of tbe men. 
 " But wbere bas be got to ? " asked anotber, 
 " A sbort wbile ago be was liere." 
 '^Wbo? Manecao?" 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Halloa ! Here be comes," annouced a tbird. 
 And really, at tbe end of tbe road, a man was 
 seen approacbing, mounted on a fiery borse, 
 Avboso violent movements be calmly controlled 
 witb a firm and steady band. 
 
 Tbe new-comer was quite tbe typo of a captain 
 of muleteers. Tbe long, flowing black liair, tbe
 
 THE TOWN OF SJNT ANNA. 251 
 
 wild yet gloomy expression, tlie sunburnt visage, 
 and the vigorous, litlie muscular form, formed a 
 whole that at once would attract attention. Hat, 
 jacket; and leggings were of tanned deerskin ; a 
 red handkerchief hung loosely round his neck; his 
 bare feet, carrying huge spurs, rested in coal- 
 scuttle-shaped brass stirrups ; the holsters of his 
 saddle showed the buts of long horse-pistols ; and 
 a bone-handle whip in his hand completed the 
 tout-ensemble of a muleteer in the exercise of his 
 functions. 
 
 " ISTosso Senlior be with you/' he curtly observed, 
 as he reined in his steed in front of the group and 
 lightly touched the brim of his hat with the point 
 of a forefinger. 
 
 " Good-day to you, Senhor Manccao," replied 
 the major on behalf of his companions, '^ or rather 
 good afternoon. I know already that you are on 
 the way to be done for." 
 
 "Without doubt," croaked the padre, "he is 
 going to see the little torment." 
 
 The muleteer grimly smiled as he replied : 
 
 " No fear, Senhor Yicar, I am not going- to be 
 demoralised by any woman ; but a man is not a 
 mule; some day he must have a child of his own. 
 Life is but a journey " 
 
 Cyrino and Manecao, the two prominent figures
 
 252 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 amidst tlie group of idle gossips, presented ex- 
 treme contrasts. One, so lusty in liis rude liealtli^ 
 so proud and indifferent in liis bearing, as lie 
 calmly gazed around liim ; the otlier quite pallid, 
 and trembling with nervousness. 
 
 " Is this owl the surgeon ? " inquired Manecao, 
 in a low voicO; glancing at Cyrino, as he leaned 
 forward to address the collector. '"' Clotildes of 
 the Venda, up town^ told me he had arrived. To 
 me, he seems to have the face of a humbug." 
 
 " Eh, man," retorted the other, " but he has 
 got a head on his shoulders. He has made a heap 
 of cures about here." 
 
 CyrinOj noting that he was the subject of obser- 
 vation, with an amiable smile saluted his rival : 
 
 " Good even^ to you, my counti-yman." 
 
 " Oh ! Life to you," the muleteer drily and 
 sharply re^jlied, and glancing towards the sun, 
 added : " See here now, what it is to be like a 
 woman clacking her tongue. The sun is sinking, 
 and I have yet to cover a lot of ground. Friends, 
 adieu ! Senhor Major until I see you again — Sen- 
 hor Vicai', I shall shortly be hcre.''^ Spurring his 
 animal^ the circle of gossips quickly scattered, and 
 Manecao proceeded on his way at a fast pace. 
 
 Cyrino in his turn, utilising the rupture of the 
 ring that had heretofore encircled him, joressed
 
 THE TOWN OF SJNV ANNA. 253 
 
 the liaiid of tlie major and went away in the 
 direction of the Eio Paranahyba^ on whose margins 
 he expected to pass the night. Hardly had he 
 disappeared when a perfect rain of comments on 
 him was poured out by the gossips. 
 
 " Did you notice/' said the vicar to the major, 
 " how the doctor is altered ? So pale and old he 
 looks ! eh ? 
 
 " Now I don't think he does/^ contradicted the 
 collector, " I really do not." 
 
 The Senhor Taques, major and justice of the 
 peace, assumed an air of profound meditation, and 
 with an extended finger slowly pointing upwards 
 he gravely apostrophized : 
 
 " Mark my words, Senhores, hereabouts you will 
 see by-and-by the ' tooth of a rabbit ! * ' " 
 
 During that night and many subsequent days 
 the town repeated those celebrated words. 
 
 " It was the major who said so," every one 
 asseverated in a tone of conviction, '^ we shall see 
 the tooth of a rabbit.'^ 
 
 * A provincialism expressive of mischief or trouble [Transl.]
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE JOUENEY. 
 
 In little more tliaii an houi" Cyrino traversed the 
 distance between tlie town and the river, for, in the 
 five miles that it measures, the only bad bit of road 
 is that which passes through the wooded margins 
 of the majestic stream. In this forest, the vestiges 
 of great floods are seen on the trunks of the trees, 
 and the soft and swampy 'soil is a hotbed of vege- 
 table putrefaction, whence, on the occasion of the 
 intense heat that follows retreat of the waters, 
 proceeds deadly miasma. 
 
 Here, by the gloomy margins of pestiferous 
 pools of stagnant and slime-covered water, the 
 dwarf and heavily-foliagod aucury palms are found 
 in abundance. The aspect is in no way agreeable, 
 and the thought that here is the haunt and home 
 of the terrible marsh fevers serves to cause any
 
 THE JOURNET. 2SS 
 
 passing traveller to hasten away from tliese lugu- 
 brious regions. 
 
 The murmur of the flow of water is heard at a 
 short distance from the shores of the river. The 
 stream is wide, its waters clear, and the current 
 flows rapidly. 
 
 On the glistening surface of the river are re- 
 flected the two green borders of its elevated banks, 
 where many a tottering tree, with its foundations 
 undermined by floods, and balancing continually to 
 and fro, causes a constant gentle ripple. 
 
 The contemplation of such an imposing mass of 
 water — rolling, ever rolling onwards, as if by some 
 hidden power — causes an involuntary feeling of 
 depression. 
 
 As when the ocean, with its incessant mono- 
 tonous movement, agitates the soul, so also does 
 that perennial flow. The impressive silence of an 
 immense river induces us insensibly to meditation. 
 And when a man meditates, he saddens. 
 
 Joy is naturally the frank and spontaneous 
 accompaniment of all expanding nature. Sadness 
 is a vague metaphysical aspiration, an innately 
 restless, painful craving for action ; its home, the 
 silent depths of the forest or the desert solitude. 
 No one prepares to become merry, while, on the 
 other hand, melancholy comes not suddcnlj-, and
 
 256 INNOCENCU. 
 
 tlie result of tlie psycliological plienomenon is tliat 
 eacli is linked to the other. 
 
 How did that enormous mass of water spring 
 into existence ? From whence comes it ? Whither 
 is it bound ? What mysteries are not bui'ied in 
 its bosom ? 
 
 Cyrino remained for a long time gazing at the 
 river, while dark thoughts surged through his 
 mind. Twilight was creeping on, and, as the last 
 rays of the sun tinged with rosy hues the tops of 
 the loftiest trees, numerous flocks of noisy quero- 
 queros saluted the departing light of day, and 
 awoke the echoes with their discordant cries. Oc- 
 casionally a wild duck would pass by with heavy 
 laboured flight, white herons skimmed the surface 
 of the waters with outstretched snowy wings, and 
 hundreds of wood pigeons crossed from bank to 
 bank, homeward bound to their well-known haunts. 
 
 As the waning light gradually disappeared and 
 darkness quickly followed, the river assumed an 
 uniform tint, like unto a sheet of burnished 
 silver. 
 
 " Ah ! well, now know I thee, Manecao ! " 
 thought Cyrino, heaving a sigh. " And for such 
 as he is reserved my gentle Innocencia ! Humph. 
 Truly a pretty man— for mc, for her, a horrid 
 monster. Yet how strong he is ! "
 
 THE JOURNET. 257 
 
 Without casting any disparagement upon tlio 
 courage of our hero, it was certainly evident tliat 
 the physical strength of his rival was a source of 
 irritation to Cyrino. '■' Ah ! " he muttered, " if 1 
 could — crush him ! How dark and foreboding he 
 looked! Men Deus ! Give me courage— give 
 me hopes. Nossa Senhora de Abbadia ! Nossa 
 Senhora da Canna Verde ! — aid me !"" 
 
 Amidst all the wild surroundings of those im- 
 mense scenes of nature, and oppressed with the 
 passion that raged within his breast, the youth 
 fell upon his knees, praying with fervour, or 
 rather automatically stringing together the simple 
 prayers which his mother had taught him when a 
 child. 
 
 The river flowed onwards serenely, while far 
 away a jaguar roared, and some night-bird sud- 
 denly startled the silence of the night with a 
 
 strange, piercing cry. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Crossing the river on the following morning, 
 Cyrino trod the territory of Minas Greraes, and, 
 after traversing some six miles of forest, he en- 
 tered upon a far-extending rolling campos-land, a 
 region somewhat burnt with the sun and ex- 
 tremely monotonous in aspect, but abounding 
 with quail and partridges. 
 
 s
 
 258 INNOCENCU: 
 
 So immersed in thouglit was the youug- man, 
 tliat lie never once attempted to imitate tlie pro- 
 longed wailing notes of the birds which resounded 
 from all sides, an impulse which always prompts 
 those who travel in those regions. 
 
 With ever-rising impatience ho thought of the 
 sixty-four miles which yet separated him from the 
 fazenda of Padua. His heart was heavy with sad- 
 ness, and his eyes filled with tears every time he 
 contemplated a burity palm, for then his thoughts 
 flew to the home of Innocencia, where, close to 
 the margin of the stream, where he had had his 
 last interview, arose one of these stately palms, the 
 queen of the Sertao. Of what is the dear one now 
 thinking ? What will happen to her ? And Manecao, 
 is he already there ? At such a thought Cy rino became 
 overwhelmed with agitation, and, briskly spurring 
 his animal to a gallop, he rode furiously onwards. 
 
 The impassive majesty of nature oppressed him. 
 To him, the road was transformed into a path of 
 torments through which he craved to fly with 
 furious velocity, yet slowly, withal, seemed to him 
 to pass the varied landmarks of his journey. 
 
 When man suffers, in the agony of his wild 
 arrogance, he craves to witness the savage destruc- 
 tion of the fury of the storm, in harmony with his 
 tempestuous thoughts.
 
 THE JOURNEY. 259 
 
 " Meu Deus ! " murmm-ed Cyrino, '^ all around 
 joy seems to reig-n ! The birds fly so liglitly ; the 
 flowers are so beautiful ; the streams so clear and 
 peaceful tliat all seems to invite repose. I only 
 suffer. Ah ! surely death is better than this tor- 
 ment. Who can tear from my heart this weight, 
 this certainty of misery ? What after all is this 
 love ? Perhaps, years hence, I shall not even 
 remember Innocencia. Maybe I am only use- 
 lessly torturing myself. Yet no, that woman is my 
 life, my very blood. Who takes her from me, 
 kills me. Well, let death come, she at least will 
 remain to weep for me — remain to tell of a man 
 who knew how to love.'''' He suddenly raised 
 his voice and shouted aloud, '' Innocencia ! 
 Innocencia ! " And the echoes — sweet as any 
 sounds — repeated that dear name, as they repeat 
 the roar of the puma, the plaintive warble of the 
 thrush, or the strident hammering of the anvil bird. 
 
 As all things, however, have an end, on the 
 fourth day Cyrino reached the house of Antonio 
 Cesario, who welcomed him with all amiability and 
 frankness, and under whose roof we will mean- 
 while leave him, in order see whar, in Pereira's 
 home, happened to the gentle Innocencia and 
 those who destined her to the sacrifice of enforced 
 matrimony. 
 
 s2
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A CORDIAL EECEPTION. 
 
 IIanecao soon arrived at tlie house of liis future 
 father-in-law. The distance from Sant' Anna was 
 not great^ and it was quickly covered by the 
 spirited animal which carried the muleteer, who, 
 moreover; applied both whip and spur. 
 
 The soul of Manecao was filled with impatience, 
 for the memory of the rarely beautiful bride 
 awaiting him created an unaccustomed feeling of 
 elation, and at times the habitual gloom would fly 
 from his face and a faint smile played upon the 
 lips and moved, as though unwillingly, the dense 
 moustache. 
 
 Pereira received him with an explosion of 
 absolute joy. 
 
 " Viva ! viva ! " he boisterously exclaimed, as he 
 extended his arms. '^ Welcome, a merry welcome 
 to this ranch ! We want only music and re-
 
 A CORDIAL RECEPTION. 261 
 
 joicings to celebrate your arrival ! What a time 
 you have been coming ! I thought that you could 
 not find the road to the housf;. 'Nocencia will 
 jump for very joy." 
 
 Whilst Pereira poured out these Avords almost 
 in shouts, the Sertanejo dismounted, and, hat in 
 hand, advanced to ask a blessing of his future 
 father-in-law. 
 
 " Deus give thee His blessing/' said Pereira,. 
 fervently embracing him. "Did you not want tO' 
 come 1 
 
 " How goes the little one ? " interrupted Ma- 
 necao. 
 
 " She is very well no .v. She has had the ague,, 
 but now she is all right again." 
 
 " Has she thought of me ? " 
 
 " Now what a question that is, when you so be- 
 witch everybody. Why, even I, myself, have 
 thought of nothing but you. ' When will Manecao 
 arrive ? ' I was always saying to myself, and many 
 a time I looked down the road, with longing eyes^ 
 for any signs of you. How much more then with a 
 woman, a never-ending longing. But," he con- 
 tinued, ^' we are clattering our tongues and I have 
 not yet made you come in. 'Nocencia has just this 
 instant gone to the stream. Unharness your ani- 
 mal and leave the things here."
 
 262 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Manecao did as Pereira told Mm, He removed 
 tlie saddle^ not liurriedly, but carefully and slowly, 
 and, in order that tlie heated animal should not 
 take cold, he left the saddle-cloth on its back, and 
 with a head of maize bereft of its grains he rubbed 
 down the neck and hocks of the horse. 
 
 After completing- this operation he entered the 
 house, making it resound with the clank of the 
 huge rowels of his spurs, which, by reason of their 
 immense size, obliged him to walk so that his heels 
 did not touch the ground. 
 
 The Mineiro could not contain himself in his 
 satisfaction. " Then — then is all now arranged ? " 
 he inquired, gleefully rubbing his hands. 
 
 " Everything. All the papers are ready. I had 
 to go to Ubereba for them, and that is ^^hat 
 delayed me so long. When Mece wills, we will 
 start off for Sant^ Anna. I purchased some horses, 
 and they will be here to-morrow. I have already 
 spoken to Lata ; the vicar has recived notice ; the 
 day only requires to be named.'''' 
 
 '' In that case, the sooner the better. Don't 
 you think so ? " 
 
 " Certainly it is.'' 
 
 " Well then, let us say on the second Sunday 
 from now." 
 
 " As you like. As for mc, you well know that,
 
 A CORDIAL RECEPTION. 263 
 
 in this business of marriage^ wliat costs most is to 
 make tlio resolution to enter it ; afterwards one 
 gets accustomed to tLe new life. Is tlie girl 
 read}^ ? " 
 
 " I don't know — she ouglit to be^ for I see lier 
 always sewing sometliing or otlier. HoAvever^ I 
 must fix the day, as I have sent to invite Eoberto's 
 people. Finally, it is necessary to kill the fatted 
 pig and send to fetch aquadente. When one 
 marries a daughter, and an only one, one has to 
 keep his pockets pretty wide open. Everything 
 has been arranged, the signal onl}^ is required, 
 when all will bo ready. Here in front of the 
 house there will be a big- ranch, and in the yard 
 on the right will be another one for the dinner. 
 In Sant' Anna I ordered the music, and Mestre 
 Tabuco promised some pieces that will bring the 
 tears to j'our eyes. Then blunderbuss and bomb 
 shall thunder " 
 
 " I," interrupted Manecao, " with your permis- 
 sion, have ordered in the store of the major two 
 dozen bottles of wine." 
 
 " Man ! You have gone in for expenses ! Two 
 dozen bottles of wine ! Wah ! " 
 
 ''Sim, Senhor!" 
 
 " Well, my dear fellow, they must be looked 
 iifter, that's all. We shall want them for the
 
 264 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 v-icar, the major, the collector, and the school- 
 master, people of some consideration, and whom 
 I count upon, without all the small fry, who will be 
 without end. Ten days before the festival I want 
 Ricardo's women to come and prepare the nick- 
 nacks, the sweets, cakes, and all that, and we 
 must have ' chicolate ' * ready every morning. 
 You see how they will talk about this feast. The 
 sono-s and dances we will have, eh ? Ho ! ho ! 
 What a festival it will be. Eh ? " 
 
 "But what of 3'our dauo-hter?" inquired Ma- 
 necao. 
 
 Pereira laughed. ^' Ah ! You rogue, you think 
 of nothing else, eh ? Well I used to be the same 
 — every one in his time — that is the law of Nosso 
 Senhor Jesus Christo." 
 
 Going out into the yard, and placing his hands 
 as a trumpet to his mouth, he shouted : 
 
 '' 'Nocencia ! 'iSTocencia ! " 
 
 No reply came. 
 
 " Poor little thing," said he, ^^ wherv she 
 comes back from the stream she will be like a 
 frightened deer." And then added, ''As she 
 does not arrive, let us go within. You are now 
 one of us, come here and go to my own room, 
 
 * (,'ofifee with milk, siif^'-ar, and Lcaten eggs.
 
 A CORDIAL RECEPTION. 265 
 
 there you will find no want of hammocks and soft 
 skins/' 
 
 On saying- these words, Pereira amiably patted 
 the broad shoulders of Manecao and made him 
 enter the sacred rear precincts of the house.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 HUNTING THE DOE. 
 
 To describe the shock that Innocencia received on 
 finding herself face to face with Manecao would 
 be impossible. Alarm and terror were so strongly 
 depicted on her countenance^ that it was observed, 
 not only by the bridegroom, but also by the father. 
 
 ^■^What is the matter Avith jou ?" inquired 
 Pereira. 
 
 "The way/' observed Manecao gloomily, '^ in 
 which I frighten the Senhora Dona ! " 
 
 The teeth of the girl chattered with emotion and 
 she trembled in all her limbs. 
 
 The Mineiro impatiently strode towards her and 
 seized her by an arm. 
 
 "But you have no fever?" he cried. "What 
 is this, girl ? " Then half smiling, he turned 
 towards IManccao : " I know what it is. She is
 
 HUNTING THE DOE. 267 
 
 startled — ou — ou seeing you so suddenly. Come, 
 come, 'Nocencia, leave off trembling. Imme- 
 diately, 1 say." 
 
 ''I wish to — to return to my room," slie mur- 
 mured, and, reaching her hand to the wall, with 
 tottering steps she slowly retired to her chamber. 
 
 The muleteer assumed a sullen, downcast ex- 
 pression, and from under his knitted brows he 
 followed with his gaze the retreating form of she 
 whom he already considered his wife. 
 
 Pereira, with his arms akimbo, placed himself 
 in front of the tropeiro.* 
 
 " AVhat do you think of that now ? " said he, 
 with an air of surprise. " No one can count upon 
 women, eh ? " 
 
 Manecao made no reply. 
 
 At last he suddenly observed, in a very drawling 
 tone, and pausing at every word, "Your — daughter 
 — has — seen — some one." 
 
 The Mineiro flushed, and, almost stuttering, 
 replied, " Xo, no— that is, she saw— but there, 
 every day, you know— she — she sees people. Why 
 do you ask me this ? " 
 
 '' For nothing." 
 
 " Now explain yourself. You thus ask me 
 A question that makes mc a — a little confused. 
 
 * A muleteer.
 
 268 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 This is a serious business. I gave von my word 
 of honour that my daughter shall be your wife. 
 The town already knows it^ and — and with me, I 
 want no stories. That is what I say." 
 Manecao looked up suddenly. 
 " It is well/' said he. " Let us be slow, careful, 
 and sure, for thus I have been all my life. I will 
 return soon, but now I Avill see after my horse." 
 
 He went away^ leaving Pereira a prey to the 
 most conflicting suppositions. 
 
 Days passed by without the two men once 
 touching upon the subject that grieved their 
 hearts. Both^ calm in appearance, lived a common 
 life. They went together to tlie plantations, they 
 took their meals together, they hunted together, 
 and only separated at the hour of repose; for then 
 the Mineiro went to his room at the rear, and 
 Manecao occupied the guests' room in the front. 
 
 Innccencia did not appear. She scarcely left 
 her chamber, alleging, as an excuse, that she had 
 a return of the ague ; but although her body was 
 not nffected, her mind was tortured with her 
 passion and despair, and bitter tears, especially 
 at night, inundated her face. 
 
 " Men Deus !" she wailed. " What will become 
 of me ? Nossa Senhora da Guia succour me.
 
 HUNTING THE DOE. 269 
 
 What can I do, I, a poor unliappy girl o£ the 
 Sertao?" 
 
 On her knees, before the rudely-fashioned 
 oratory, illumined by coarse candles, she prayed 
 ■with fervour, murmuring the formula she Avas 
 accustomed to recite before retiring to rest. 
 
 Suddenly she hesitated. '' I would that I knew 
 a prayer that would better ease my heart, that 
 would relieve me in my misery to-day." And, as 
 if carried away by some inspiration, she pros- 
 trated herself, murmuring, "My Lady, mother 
 of the Virgin who never sinned, oh ! I pray thee 
 go unto God and ask him to have pity on me. 
 ]^ot to leave me thus Avith this pain hero Avithin 
 me. Extend your hand over me, but if it is a 
 crime to love Cyrino, then I pray thee send me 
 
 death." 
 
 At times, Innocencia experienced in herself the 
 elements of resistance, for she had inherited some- 
 thing of the character of her father, some of his 
 strong and obstinate disposition. 
 
 "I Avill go," she cried, Avith flaming eyes, "to 
 the church, and in the face of the padre I will 
 cry, No ! no ! Kill me ! But I will not marry 
 
 that man." 
 
 When some vivid memory of Cyrir.o crossed 
 her mind she was almost beside herself with de-
 
 270 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 spair. Her passion filled lier breast witli fire 
 '' Wliat is this, meu Deus ? Has tliat man put 
 tlie evil eje upon me. But, oh, Cyrino ! Cyrino ! 
 Come back ! Come back ! Come and take me ! 
 Oh! I shall die!" She fell upon her couch 
 shivering with nervous excitement. 
 
 One day, Pereira suddenly entered her room 
 and found her bedewed with tears. 
 
 " What has troubled you, my child, the last few 
 days ? " he inquired, in a tender tone of voice. 
 He was outwardlj^ calm, but his expression was 
 that of decision. 
 
 Innocencia shrunk within herself, like a dove 
 that feels a rude hand is about to grasp it. 
 
 The father gently drew her towards him and 
 laid her head upon his breast. " Come, ''No- 
 cencia. Tell me, what is it all ? You shut 
 yourself in your room, and Manecao is there 
 outside asking for you constantly. This is not 
 pretty. Is he, or is he not, your bridegroom ? " 
 
 The girl's tears poured afresh. 
 
 "^ A. woman certainly should not throw herself in 
 the face of any man,'' observed her father " but it 
 is also not right to be peevish like this. It is 
 sickening ! — a husband as he all but is." 
 
 Suddenly, Innocencia ceased weeping, and, 
 withdi-awing herself from her father's arms, she
 
 HUNTING THE DOE. 271 
 
 stood rigidly in front of him, and, witli tlie fire 
 of resolution flasliing from lier eyes, slie said : 
 
 '^^Fatlier, would you know what all this means?," 
 
 '^Yes." 
 
 " It is because I — 1 ought not — " 
 
 " Ought not what ? " 
 
 " To marry." 
 
 At these words Pereira stared at her with asto- 
 nishment, and his jaw fell with the shock of surprise. 
 
 " What ? " he almost screamed. 
 
 The girl comprehended that the struggle was 
 about to commence, and, summoning all her 
 courge, she replied with apparent calmness : 
 
 " Yes, my father, this marriage ought not to 
 take place." 
 
 " Are you crazy ? " observed Pereira, with as- 
 sumed tranquillity. 
 
 Innocencia, with her cheeks burning with 
 flushes, proceeded to say very rapidly : 
 
 '' Father, I will tell you all. Do not wish me 
 ill. It was but a dream, it is true. The other day, 
 before this man arrived, I was sleeping, and I had 
 a dream. In this dream — do you hear, father ? — 
 my mother came descending from Heaven. Poor 
 mother ! She was so white that it made me sad. 
 But she was dressed so beautifully, with a dress 
 all blue."
 
 2 72 INNOCENCU. 
 
 '^ Yonv motlier ? " interrupted Pereira, witli a 
 slight emotion. 
 
 " Sinij Senlior, slie lierself." 
 
 " But liow could you know lier ? Slie died wlien 
 you were a baby." 
 
 '' All the same/'' continued Innocencia, " I 
 knew at once that it was my mother. She looked 
 at me — oh, so lovingly ! — and asked me, ' Where 
 is your father ? ' I answered tremblingly, ' He is 
 in the fields, would you wish him to come here ? ' 
 ' No,' she said to me. ' It is not uecessay. Tell 
 him that I came here to prevent Manecao marry- 
 ing you, or otherwise you will be most unhappy." 
 
 ''And afterwards?" inquired Pereira, raising 
 his head with a sombre air and Avildly rolling his 
 eyes. 
 
 "AfterAvards, she said more. ' If this man 
 marries you a great misfortune will happen in — 
 in this house/ and then, without any more words, 
 she disappeared." 
 
 " Pereira fixed a keen, inquiring gaze upon his 
 daughter, while a suspicion flashed across his 
 mind. 
 
 *' What marks had your mother on her face ? " 
 
 Innocencia suddenly became deadly pale, and 
 raising both hands to her head and uttering a 
 wailing cry, she exclaimed :
 
 HUNTING THE DOE. 273 
 
 " I knoAV not — I — I am lying. It is all a story.. 
 It is a lie — I saw not my mother. Oh ! mother ! 
 mother ! forgive me." And throwing herself 
 full length upon the couch, and her scattered rich 
 raven tresses shrouding her gleaming white 
 shoulders, she remained immovable. 
 
 Pereira silently contemplated her for a long, 
 long time, knowing not what to think nor what to 
 say. Presently, as if seized with some sudden 
 resolve, he leant over the figure of the girl and 
 murmured, or rather hoarsely hissed in her ear : 
 
 '' ^Nocencia, in a little while Manecao will return 
 from the fields. You shall go to him, and if you 
 wear not a kind face — I — I will kill you ! " And 
 raising his voice he added, " Do you hear ? I will 
 kill you ! Rather would I see you dead than — 
 than the house of a Mineiro dishonoured. 
 
 He then rushed from the apartment, leaving 
 Innocencia in the same position. 
 
 " Very well ! " she muttered, " it is but what I 
 want, then I die."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 IN THE HOUSE OP CESARIO. 
 
 Cteino's first endeavours as soon as lie was estab- 
 lished in tlie house of his new host were to create 
 a good impression. He attended to the ailments 
 of a sick slave J he made the most of his acquaint- 
 ance and friendship with Pereira, he conversed 
 repeatedly about him, and, incidentally, mentioned 
 Innocencia. 
 
 Antonio Cesario then inquired, " Has Mece 
 seen her ?" 
 
 "Certainly/' replied the youth. " The truth is I 
 cured her of ague." 
 
 "Ah ! She is quite a belle, I believe." 
 
 " So she seems to be.'^ 
 
 " That is, I say so, because anyhow in a few 
 days from now she marries. Don^t you know 
 that?^' 
 
 " So I have heard."
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF CESARIO. 'i^s 
 
 -'Well, it is tlie truth. The bridegroom passed 
 through here and carried with him my consent. 
 He is a well-to-do man. The little one ought to 
 be contented. Ah ! not everybody in the Sertao 
 is so fortunate. They have the bad habit about 
 here of blindly arranging marriages^ and some- 
 times a lusty young fellow gets entangled with 
 some old screw, or a pretty girl finds herself bound 
 to some wrinkled old fellow. Cruz ! Once the 
 blessed word is given, it is a bond that cannot be 
 broken. It is all over, whether for better or for 
 worse.^' 
 
 Cyrino found the occasion propitious, and replied 
 with some vivacity, "'Well, are these ideas not 
 yours also ?" 
 
 ''It depends," responded Cesario cautiously. 
 " It is the parents who have to examine into these 
 matters." 
 
 " Without doubt. But suppose — suppose, for 
 example — that your goddaughter did not like 
 Manecao." 
 
 " If she did not like him ?" 
 ^ "Yes." 
 
 " What does that matter ? A girl like her 
 knows not what is good or bad for her. No one 
 would think of consulting her. Women ! What 
 they desire is to get married. They draw the line 
 
 t2
 
 276 INNOCENCIJ. 
 
 only at carrapatos,* because you can't tell wliicli 
 are the males." He lauglied boisterously at his 
 concluding assertion ; then suddenly resuming a 
 serious expression, he asked^ " AVhy are we thus 
 chattering on this subject? I am no friend of 
 such things. It seems to be that Mece is a bit of 
 a nomorato himself." 
 
 " I ? " protested Cyrino quickly. 
 
 "Without doubt. I never talk about such 
 things. Woman is made to live close to her loom, 
 to attend her children, and bring them up in the 
 fear of Grod. She is not made for a man to con- 
 verse with, not even to speak about." 
 
 Thus the same ideas predominated in the mind 
 of Cesario as in Pereira's, the same gross contempt 
 for the weak sex, the same readiness to suspect 
 any one individual or to transform the meaning of 
 any careless word dropped in their suspicious 
 hearing. " My goddaughter," continued Oesario, 
 " ought to raise her hands to heaven. She has 
 found a husband who will make her happy and 
 the mother of a good round dozen of children." 
 
 Cyrino trembled, but said nothing. Everywhere, 
 fresh obstacles continually arose against him that 
 apparently nothing could surmount. Finally, he 
 
 * Carrapatos arc a species of ticks which mainly infest the 
 pastoral regions.
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF CESJRIO. 277 
 
 decided to seize the bull by the horns. At the 
 worst, he would only receive a rebuff, and in a 
 desperate game he would hazard yet a daring 
 throw. 
 
 " Senhor Cesario/' said he on the following 
 morning, " I want very much to speak with yon in 
 private." 
 
 "With me?" 
 
 " Sim, Senhor." 
 
 /' Well, I am here at your orders." 
 
 " I would like to go outside, for what I would 
 say to you no one can — no one ought to hear." 
 
 "Wah! You frighten me. Then have you 
 secrets to tell me ?" 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " Well, then, we will talk outside as you wish. 
 At midday meet me in my plantation. Do you 
 know where it is ? " 
 
 "I know." 
 
 "Wait for mo by the fallen withered peroba- 
 tree." 
 
 " I will be there." 
 
 Long before the indicated hour, Cyrino, con- 
 sumed Avith impatience, was at the try sting-place. 
 Resolved to relate to this man, without reserve, the 
 story of his love, to unbosom himself to one whom 
 he barely knew and who had no reasons for sym-
 
 278 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 pathising witli liiin, and on wliom, above all tilings^ 
 depended His happiness, Cyrino considered tliose 
 moments the decisive ones of his life. 
 
 Under these circumstances the mind sees in all 
 its surroundings omens of good or evil portent; 
 and, on this occasion, all nature seemed to Cyrino 
 to wear a gloomy aspect. Although it did not rain, 
 the sky was heavily overcast v/ith clouds. The 
 heavens were leaden coloured; and away to the 
 west masses of dark clouds denoted thunder in 
 the coming afternoon. The locality was also a 
 dreary one. Over a huge area, covered with the 
 pale green verdure of sugar cane, with clusters of 
 flowering tops showing the approach to maturity 
 — here and there arose, in weird grandeur, the 
 massive trunks and leafless branches of colossal 
 trees. Some, from base to topmost boughs, were 
 charcoaled with the past fires of the bush buiming 
 previous to seed time; others had lost their foliage 
 in consequence of the deep circumferential incision 
 of the axe, which had impeded the ascension of 
 the sap. These still struggled for life, as was seen 
 in the withered sprouts of the topmost branches. 
 
 When the day is bright, these scattered giants 
 of the forest — which through the robustness of 
 their hearts had resisted the flames or the force of 
 man — served as perches for innumerable flocks of
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF CESAR 10. 279 
 
 parrots, perriquitos, love-birds^ and macaws, wliich. 
 raise a concert enougli to deaden an eclio. On this 
 occasion, liowever, all was silent. Only now and 
 tlien were heard the blows of the red-crested wood- 
 pecker, which, rapidly ascending the trunks by a 
 zig-zag" route, explored every worm-eaten crevice 
 and cranny. 
 
 Antonio Cesario arrived at the appointed hour. 
 For protection against any stray jaguar or other 
 wild animal he carried a gun in his arms. His 
 usually placid face showed more disturbance than 
 mere curiosity explained. 
 
 '^ Here I am, doctor," said he, resting the weapon 
 against the charred stump of a tree and seating 
 himself close to Cyrino. " I am ready to listen to 
 you just as long as you please.'"' 
 
 Cyrino had long thought of the approach of this 
 moment, yet now he could find no way to broach 
 his declarations. He had mused continually upon 
 a thousand pretexts, but upon nothing had he 
 resolved. 
 
 It was therefore almost stuttering that he re- 
 sponded : 
 
 " The Senlior, me — that is — I hope you will 
 excuse the— the inconvenience that — that I give 
 
 you-i " 
 
 " No, it is no inconvenience at all."
 
 28o INNOCENCU. 
 
 " But you must be — er — surprised at what I 
 
 asked — to — to come and speak witli me — in a 
 
 solitary place — with one wlio is only a guest, sucli 
 
 as any other, such as the many your open house 
 
 -receives every day " 
 
 "Well, really " 
 
 " However, in a short time all will he clear and 
 ' explained, but if, after 1 have spoken — I — I offend 
 you, I crave your pardon beforehand, do you 
 hear ? Senhor Cesario," continued Cyrino, after 
 a brief pause, " if you saw a man hurrying down 
 a cataract to destruction and you could throw him 
 a rope and save him, would you not do so ? " 
 
 " Certainly 1 would," replied the other, with 
 animation. " Even at the risk of my own life I 
 would refuse help to no man, be he rich or poor, 
 white or black, free man or slave." 
 
 " Well then," exclaimed Cyrino precipitately, 
 " I am just such a man, in peril of my life, and 
 who will be lost unless you, and only you, will 
 save me." Repressing the reply of his listener he 
 continued : " Do not think that I am mad. No. 
 I am as sound in my mind as you are, and I tell 
 you only the absolute truth. One word will explain 
 all. I die of passion for a woman, and that woman 
 is — is — is your goddaughter — Innocencia ! " 
 
 Cesario sprang to his feet in one bound. His
 
 
 'Kill me 1" be cried. "Kill me!" 
 
 p. 281
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF CESJRIO. 281 
 
 lips trembled, his eyes suddenly became bloodshot, 
 and his hand reached for the weapon by his side. 
 *' What is that you say ? " he gasped, as lie fixed 
 Ms gaze on Cyrino, who, divining his thoughts, 
 also rose to his feet, and placing himself face to 
 face with Cesario exclaimed : 
 
 " Kill me ! " he cried. " Kill me ! Aye, it would 
 be but a favour to me to put an end to this 
 wretched life." 
 
 The other, already repenting of the gesture he 
 liad made, and somewhat vexed at his hastiness, 
 replied sullenly : 
 
 " I have no cause to kill you, you never did me 
 any harm." 
 
 " No," proceeded Cyrino a little unreasonably, 
 "I ask you this; if you have any charity, if you 
 are good, if you love your children, if you have a 
 mother in Heaven — for all that, on my knees I 
 beg you to kill me ! kill me ! " 
 
 And falling on his knees at th.e feet of Cesario, 
 lie buried his face in his hands. 
 
 The Mineiro contemplated him for some time in 
 great surprise. Presently his countenance softened, 
 and stooping over the young man, he patted him 
 kindly on the shoulder and gently said : 
 
 " What story is this, doctor ? Tliis is madness ! 
 Tell me what it all means. I want to knoAV all
 
 282 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 tlio ins and outs of your story. I am a man of tlie 
 Sertao, a Mineiro of tlie law, but I know liow to 
 treat people properly." 
 
 On hearing these words Cyrino recovered some 
 animation, and, rising to his feet, he seated him- 
 self by the side of Cesario and straightway told 
 him everything— the despair that possessed him, 
 the certainty that he had won the love of Inno- 
 cencia, and the implacable sentence of Pereira. 
 
 Cesario listened to him with attention. Only 
 now and then ho gravely shook his head and 
 allowed this exclamation to escape him : 
 
 " Ah ! women, women ! " 
 
 After Cyrino had finished speaking, his auditor 
 gazed fixedly at him, and, with a severe expression, 
 he asked : 
 
 ''Now tell me the truth, doctor. Have you 
 never exchanged words with Innocencia? Never 
 been alone with her ? " 
 
 "I have/' the other somewhat nervously replied. 
 
 A rush of blood tinged scarlet the face of 
 Cesario. " Then/' he retorted^ the disgrace " 
 
 " Men Deus ! " cried Cyrino with enthusiasm. 
 " May the soul of my mother descend to inferno 
 if Innocencia is not as pure as " 
 
 Cesario repressed the exclamation with a gesture. 
 " Enough^ young man/^ ho gravely said, " wha
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF CESJRIO. 283 
 
 swears tlins does not lie. I also, in my time, 
 endured an unhappy passion, and know wliat it is 
 to suffer." 
 
 " Oil, Senlior Cesario, save me ! " 
 
 " What can I do ? Do you not know that, now, 
 she does not even belong to her father, her own 
 father ? She belongs to the word of honour, and 
 the word of a Mineiro is never recalled. Did you 
 not know that when you allowed love to enter by 
 your eyes ? Do not speak about her. Women do 
 not think. What women want is to see men 
 grovelling on their knees after them ; they will 
 sacrifice everything to obtain their whims, and for 
 a mere amorous intrigue in the street — piff — away 
 goes the honour of their homes in a second." 
 
 "No," protested Cyrino, "she is not so." 
 
 " Then is she better than other women ? " in- 
 quired Cesario disdainfully. 
 
 " Ay, that she is, better than all in this world. 
 Above her is only Nossa Senhora ! " 
 
 The enthusiasm with which these words were 
 uttered brousrht a smile to the face of the Mineiro. 
 
 " Eubbish ! " said he. " Well said some one 
 when he declared that love is a lunacy. It makes 
 a man a misery, and '' 
 
 "And then ? '' interrupted Cyrino. 
 
 " Then what ? Have I not already told you
 
 284 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 enougli ? My goddaughter belongs to Manecao 
 just as if slie were a pistol or a silver-mounted 
 drinking-horn which Pereira had presented to 
 him. There are no means whatever of regaining 
 her." 
 
 The youth, however, was not disheartened. For 
 a long time he spoke with true eloquence, appealing 
 principally to the protection which is due from 
 those who carry a child to the baptismal font, 
 to one's second child, to the little pagan for 
 whom the godparent becomes responsible before 
 God.* 
 
 Thus striking home through the religious sen- 
 timents, he considerably affected the feelings of 
 the Mineiro. 
 
 " Speak not to me thus," said the latter, for you 
 only want to make me take your views. Who 
 knows, moreover, that Innocencia cares for you ? 
 Who, I say?'' 
 
 "Your own heart whispers it to you," Cyrino 
 calmly replied. '^ You, a man of honour, do you 
 believe I am lying ? That all I say is false ? Tell 
 mo, do you think so ?" 
 
 * In Brazil the oLlifjations of a godparent to liis or her god- 
 child arc, by custom, of a very serious and hiiidiiig character, and 
 especially iuclude the duty of guarding the material welfare and 
 general interests of the godchild. — [Transl.]
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF CESJRIO. 285 
 
 Cesario murmured, ^^Well, let us suppose it is 
 true, but " 
 
 '^ All ! " cried tlie youtli enthusiastically. " You 
 feel that your heart tells you that your own god- 
 daughter is abandoned to her fate — that she will 
 be sacrificed — and now— ah! You stop your 
 ears, crying, ' I do not want to hear, I do not want 
 to fulfil my sacred promise ! ' Why then did the 
 Senhor give his word of honour about which you 
 think so much ? May Nossa Senhora protect her 
 and deliver her from this world. Ah ! surely this 
 will weigh heavily on your conscience. And when, 
 some day, you hear that Innocencia has died of a 
 broken heart, you will then think to yourself that 
 you lent a hand to dig her grave. ^•' 
 
 Cesario was co7isiderably moved by this appeal, 
 and it was with unfeigned anxiety that he retorted, 
 "What stories are these you tell me? I, in my 
 home, hitherto living- so peacefully and interfering 
 with no one, and now, here I am, mixed up with all 
 this trouble and mischief ! Who sent you here ? " 
 
 " Who should it be," retorted Cyrino, '' but 
 Innocencia ? I barely knew you ; once only I saw 
 you. No, it was that angel who said to me, ' Go 
 and appeal to my godfather, it is the last resource, 
 for if he does not protect me, then — then indeed 
 we are lost for ever.' "
 
 286 INNOCENCU. 
 
 These words finally convinced Cesario. He 
 remained a while silently meditating, Cyrino 
 watching him with breathless anxiety. 
 
 " Very well/^ the Mineiro at last observed, in a 
 grave and hesitating tone. " I shall have to think 
 over all that you have told me."" 
 
 " Oh, Senhor Cesario ! '■" 
 
 " I will take two days to think the matter over, 
 for once I make up my mind there^s an end of 
 it. At the end of that time I will mount my horse 
 and ride over to Pereira's house. ""^ 
 
 '' Yes, yes/' murmured the young man. 
 
 " To-morrow, at daybreak, you must leave here 
 and e'o and wait for me in Sant' Anna."" 
 
 " I will go ! I am saved ! " 
 
 Cesario paused a moment and then said : 
 
 "Listen, I now want you to swear an oath by the 
 ashes of your mother." 
 
 " I am ready." 
 
 " By the salvation of your soul." 
 
 ''By the salvation of my soul," repeated 
 Cyrino. 
 
 " By the eternal life." 
 
 Cyrino bowed his head. 
 
 *^ Swear ! " 
 
 The youth crossed his two forefingers and kissed
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF CESJRJO. 287 
 
 tliem witli unction^ at tlie same time drooiDing Lis 
 eyes and turning pale. 
 
 " You take an oatli before jon know wliat it is 
 for," said Cesario. "That gives one a good idea 
 of your cliaracter. I will do everytking to kelp 
 you, but I impose one condition. If you are ready 
 to accept it, your oatk remains good, if not — tken 
 it becomes invalid." 
 
 " Meu Deus ! Wkat may it be ? " murmured 
 Cyrino. 
 
 "Tkat you remain waiting for me in Sant' Anna. 
 If I appear tkere witkin eigkt days we will go 
 togetker to tke kouse of Pereira. If not, it will be 
 a sign tkat I skall not kelp you; in tkat case, you 
 will return kere and wait for your baggage, wkick 
 I will send to fetck. It skall tken be understood 
 tkat, never more, never more will you seek to put 
 eyes on Innocencia — neitker even speak of ker, nor 
 mention ker name. Do you accept ? " 
 
 " I accept," responded tke young man witk 
 exultation, " But remain certain of one tking; if 
 tke Senkor does not arrive in tke town by tke 
 appointed time, you may pray for tke soul of Cyrino, 
 for tken ke will surely kave left tkis world of 
 afflictions." 
 
 Cesario sadly skook kis kead, and went away 
 witkout uttering anotker word.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE DOE AT BAY. 
 
 We left Innoconcia as weak in body as she was 
 resolute in mind. Slie foresaw wliat trials and 
 difficulties slie would liave to undergo, and 
 strengthened her resolves by continual meditations 
 upon her unhappiness. 
 
 She was on her knees before an image of Nossa 
 Senhora, when, from the adjoining room, the voice 
 of her father caused her to arise. 
 
 " 'Nocencia ! " he called. 
 
 The poor girl passed her hand rapidly over her 
 face to remove the vestiges of her copious weep- 
 ing, and with an almost firm step she proceeded 
 towards the room. 
 
 Pereira and ManecSo were seated close to the 
 table. The little dwarf Tico, seated on the door- 
 step and basking in the loallid rays of a partly
 
 THE DOE AT BAT. 289 
 
 cloud-obscured sun^ was playing, or pretended to 
 play, witli some young ducks. 
 
 "I am here, my father/^ said Innocencia, in 
 a clear but slightly tremulous voice. 
 
 Manecao gazed at lier witli an air lialf sullen, 
 half eager with passion, and feeling that he was 
 called upon to say something, he observed : 
 
 " At last, then, the Dona has come out of her 
 nest, eh ? Is it to find some sunshine ? Is that it, 
 eh ? " 
 
 The girl made no reply, but gazed at him so 
 calmly and with such insistance that he was 
 forced to lower his eyes. 
 
 "She has been ill, you know," apologised 
 Pereira. And turning to his daughter, he con- 
 tinued : '^ Sit yourself down here close to us. 
 Manecao wants to talk to you about something 
 particular.'' ■* 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! She knows what it is/' laughingly 
 observed the muleteer, endeavouring to be jocular. 
 
 " I do not know," Innocencia replied, in calm, 
 incisive tones. 
 
 " She is — ah ! — trying to be funny," muttered 
 Manecao. "Well then — have you already forgotten 
 — what — what I arranged with your father ? " 
 
 With the same calm intonation she replied, " I 
 do not remember." 
 
 u
 
 290 INNOCENCIA 
 
 Some moments of silence followed. 
 
 A storm of anger was rapidly accumulating in 
 the breast of Pereira, and Ms frowning eyes 
 glanced, now at Manecao, now at tlie courageous 
 daughter. 
 
 ''Well," said he suddenly, "if you do not 
 remember, I, here, am not so forgetful/'' 
 
 " Now," recommenced Manecao, as he rose from 
 his seat and moved so as to be nearer to the 
 girl, " she is only pretending to be ill. Our 
 marriage " 
 
 " Tour marriage ? " inquired Innocencia, in 
 assumed surprise. 
 
 "Yes.^^ 
 
 " But with whom ? " 
 
 " Wah ! " exclaimed Manecao, utterly dumb- 
 founded. " Who else but you ? " 
 
 Pereira turned livid with rage. The little 
 dwarf watched the scene with rapt attention. 
 His twinkling eyes scintillated like black dia- 
 monds, and his limbs trembled with impatience. 
 
 At the reply of Manecao Innocencia arose, and, 
 moving swiftly away as if to seek a refuge behind 
 a chair, she exclaimed, " I ? I marry the Senhor? 
 Never! Rather would I welcome death. Never I 
 Never can it be." 
 
 Manecao shivered as if struck by a blow.
 
 THE DOE AT BAT. 291 
 
 Pereira tried to spring to Ms feet, but for some 
 instants lie seemed absolutely paralysed. 
 
 "You are mad!" lie stammered. "You are 
 mad ! " And, fiercely clutcbing at tlie table, lie 
 arose, terrible in Ms wrath. " Then will you not 
 marry him ? " he thundered, his very teeth chat- 
 tering with passion. 
 
 " No," cried the girl desperately. " Kather 
 would I " 
 
 She could not finish, for Pereira grasped her 
 hand with such violence that he almost forced 
 her to fall upon her knees; and then, with Ms 
 utmost strength^ he flung her away from him, 
 hurling her against the wall, where she sank 
 heavily to the ground. 
 
 As the unhappy girl fell she uttered a low 
 moaning cry of pain^ and^ stretched on the floor^ 
 she grasped her breast with both hands. Her 
 face turned deadly pale, and from a slight wound 
 on her brow slowly oozed a few drops of blood. 
 
 In the madness of his rage it seemed as though 
 Pereira would throw himself upon her and trample 
 out her life with his feet, but, stopping- suddenly, 
 he raised his hands to his face to hide the tears 
 which welled from his eyes. 
 
 During the whole sad scene Manecao made not 
 the least gesture. He grimly noted everything, 
 
 d2
 
 •292 INNOCENCU. 
 
 his physiognomy was impassive and unmoved as 
 marble itself ; but in his breast raged a very 
 volcano. 
 
 A lugubrious silence reigned for some time in 
 the room. 
 
 The dwarf approached Tnnocencia, and^ taking 
 her hand, assisted her to rise to a sitting posture. 
 Then^ amidst many caresses, he showed her by 
 -signs the necessity of retiring. 
 
 Only by a great effort could Innocencia follow 
 that advice and^ with halting steps and trembling 
 .limbs, and assisted by Tico^ she went away from 
 the presence of her persecutors. 
 
 Neither of the two men made the slightest 
 attempt to detain her. Side by side, silent and 
 passive, both seemed utterly demoralised by the 
 magnitude of their imagined disgrace. 
 
 ManecaO; his jaws clenched and his eyes fiercely 
 flashing under his lowered brows, passed a hand 
 rapidly and continuousl}^ over his huge moustache. 
 Pereira, with his head sunk upon his breast, 
 seemed a picture of despair. At last he said : 
 
 '' I must draw this charge I have within me or 
 I shall go mad. Well, Avhoevcr may be the man, 
 Manecao, 'Nocencia, at least, is now lost to 
 «s, for some one must have put the evil eye upon 
 her.''
 
 THE DOE AT BAT. 293 
 
 "Who is tliat man?" growled ManecaO; in a 
 liarsh and tlireatening tone. 
 
 " Now I see it all. I, even I, received tlie 
 ' diabo ' himself in my house. I was w^atchful, 
 but the seed of evil had already taken root." 
 
 " But who is he?"' Manecao again imi^atiently 
 inquired. 
 
 "■ A rascal ! An infamous fellow ! A foreigner 
 who stopped here and robbed me of the peace that 
 Deus blessed me with." 
 
 Pereira then hastily related all the attempts of 
 the German Meyer, attempts which had been 
 discovered, but which, unhappily (at least so he, 
 Pereira, supposed), had produced their fatal fruits. 
 "Ah!" said he finally, and lowering his voice, 
 " that cur thought only of cajoling women, and 
 then, with a kick, to leave them in the dust. 
 To-morrow I will be after him and " 
 
 " What for ? " interrupted Manecao. 
 
 " The vultures shall answer you." 
 
 ''To kill him?" 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 After a short pause the muleteer said : 
 
 " It shall not be you who is to give an account^ 
 of his skin." 
 
 '' Why not ? " 
 
 "Because this is a business that belongs to-
 
 294- INNOCENCIA. 
 
 me. The Senlior is the father it is true^ but I am 
 the bridegroom. He has played the fool with us 
 both, but any way the German shall bite the 
 dust." 
 
 ''Well, so be it/^ concorded Pereira. "^ Start 
 to-morrow or to-day, ay, this instant if it be pos- 
 sible. Such a cursed cur should be killed at once, 
 as you would kill a mad dog. Go quickly, and 
 return to tell me that the man no longer exists. 
 As an old man, as a father, I will bless the hand 
 that kills him. Upon these, my white hairs, let 
 the blood fall.'' 
 
 All this conversation had been listened to by 
 some one else, the dwarf Tico. Little by little, 
 and with his eyes sparkling with excitement, he 
 had gradually approached the table. Suddenly 
 he placed himself between the two men. 
 
 " What do you want here ? " the Mineiro roughly 
 inquired. 
 
 The little man immediately commenced to de- 
 monstrate, by careful and very expressive gestures, 
 that he was cognisant of all the projects and that 
 he participated in the same sentiment of indigna- 
 tion and desperation that afflicted the owner of the 
 house. Then, quickening his gesticulations, by 
 some half-inarticulate sounds, he showed Pereira 
 that he was labouring under a misapprehension in
 
 THE DOE AT BAT. 295 
 
 regard to some person, and witTi great skill and a 
 perfect mimicry — now raising his arm to indicate 
 a height^ now witli a movement of liis liands to 
 describe tlie physiognomy — he indicated so clearly 
 the characteristics of Meyer and Cyrino that 
 Pereira at once recognised them, and observed : 
 
 '^ I see, I see, Tico, you want to speak of the 
 doctor, and— and the other." 
 
 Here the dwarf made an impatient gesture of 
 negation, and, pointing towards the chamber of 
 Innocencia, he made his auditors understand 
 that the German had nothing to do with that, 
 region. 
 
 The two men were startled. 
 
 " Then," stammered Pereira — " then who can 
 it be ? Meu Deus, not Cyrino ? " 
 
 " Yes — yes," articulated the dwarf excitedly, 
 and impatiently nodding his head. 
 
 " The doctor ? " protested Pereira. " Non- 
 sense ! " 
 
 Tico with great ability demonstrated his proofs. 
 He gesticulated like one possessed. He ran out 
 of the house ; denounced the interviews ; imitated 
 the night wanderings of Cyrino ; showed the place 
 in the orange-grove where he saw all that passed 
 and the branches broken by his fall ; he repeated 
 the mysterious cry that had provoked the shot at
 
 296 INNOCENCU. 
 
 daybreak ; finally, lie ex^^lained by sucli expressive 
 signs and sucli movements of bis bead and pbysiog- 
 noray, tbat any remaining doubts disappeared at 
 once from tbe mind of Pereira. 
 
 Now tbat all tbe previous mystery was so clearly 
 unravelled, it came witb so startling a sbock to 
 Pereira, tbat be gasped for breatb in tbe paroxysm 
 of bis anger. He staggered like a drunken man, 
 be reeled, bis eyes became bloodsbot, and be bad 
 to grasp tbe table for support. 
 
 " Ha ! scoundrel ! " be gasjDed, and became 
 purple witb excitement and rage. " Tbou sbalt 
 pay me. Ab ! scoundrel ! villain ! ^' and turning to 
 Manecao be added, " Give me tbis — be is mine." 
 
 Tbe muleteer calmly sbook bis bead. " No," 
 be replied, in a low barsb voice. " He belongs to 
 me. He bumbugged you and made a fool of me." 
 
 " Tben," exclaimed Pereira bastily, " depart to- 
 day ! Go at once ! Instantly ! And wben you 
 return say only, ' We are revenged,' and Inno- 
 cencia sball be yours.'' After pausing a moment 
 witb considerable irritation be concluded, " If sbe 
 Avill accept you." 
 
 " Tbat we sball bave to talk about". 
 
 Tbe Mineiro uttered a cry of despair. " Meu 
 Deus ! " be] exclaimed, in seeming agony. " Jn 
 wbat a world we live ! A man wbo enters my
 
 THE DOE AT BAT. 297 
 
 home, who eats of what I eat, who sleeps beneath 
 my roof tree, who drinks water from my stream, 
 this man arrives here, and, of an abode of peace 
 and honour, he makes it a place of turmoil and 
 shame ! No ! May a thousand lightnings blast me 
 if this miserable being any longer breathes the air 
 that surrounds me. No, no ! A thousand times 
 no ! And clear out at once the canalha he brought 
 here, sons of inferno like their master. I will spit 
 on their faces. Away with them like curs as they 
 are ! Thieves ! Assasins ! I " 
 
 Manecao calmly interrupted him by saying : 
 
 " Do nothing, ^o one must know what is pass- 
 ing here. No one. Do you understand ? 
 
 " And then ? " 
 
 " Make out that you have received a letter from 
 Sant^ Anna, and that the owl wants his men to 
 wait for him at Deal's. Do you hear ? " 
 
 Pereira made signs that he comprehended all. 
 
 " Afterwards," added Manecao, in a sinister 
 voice, " hands to the work." 
 
 "Yoa say well," retorted Pereira, "but have 
 patience with me, my head is all in a hurly-burly, 
 and throbbing and singing as if it would split. 
 Well, show that you are now the owner of this 
 house and do what you please. I deliver myself 
 to you bound liand and foot. Everything here
 
 298 INNOCENCU. 
 
 belongs to you. Wliile tlio lionour of a Mineiro 
 is not redeemed I will not raise my head. Men 
 Deus ! meu Deus ! What a disgrace ! ''■' 
 " Courage, courage," interrupted Manecao. 
 " If revenge fails to liide my miseries I will 
 move to the regions of the Apa. Ah ! I feel about 
 to die, my head seems full of fire. Ah me ! " and 
 utterly prostrated by his emotions he stretched 
 his arms upon the table and on them bowed his 
 troubled head. 
 
 Manecao gently tapped his shoulder. 
 
 "What is this, my father?''^ said he. "Be a 
 
 man, or what serves it ? Look at your misfortune, 
 
 which is mine also, manfully, as you would at the 
 
 rascal, face to face. Are you not consoled at the 
 
 certainty that that man will soon " 
 
 " Ah, yes ! " replied Pereira, raising his head ; 
 and observing that the dwarf had gone away, he 
 added, " But what shall we do with that morsel of 
 humanity who knows everything ? " 
 " Do not let him leave the house."" 
 " Manecao, he is like a flash -, in an instant, and 
 before one knows, he turns up in Sucuriu or even 
 in the Corredor." 
 
 " Yery well, then he must learn that — that only 
 a wink of his eyes, when it is not wanted, may 
 cost him dear, very dear. Umph."
 
 THE DOE AT BAT. 299 
 
 " At least," implored Pereira, " go at once and 
 clear those fellows out my barn — go. If I could 
 sleep a little — I might forget somewliat; but — 
 all me ! " 
 
 With tbese words the Mineiro slowly left tlie 
 room for liis own quarters. 
 
 Manecao promptly despatclied tbe attendants of 
 Cyrino, wlio soon afterwards were on tbeir way to 
 the house of Leal. 
 
 Then the Sertanejo mounted his horse, and, 
 spurring the animal to its utmost speed, he dashed 
 away towards Sant' Anna da Paranahyba, which 
 he reached when the night was far advanced.
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 TOO LATE. 
 
 During two whole days^ Manecao followed the 
 trail of Cyrino, and as unerringly as would a sleuth- 
 hound, and by means of the habitual caution 
 engendered by the habits of his wandering life, 
 he succeeded in tracking his victim, step by step, 
 without being once observed. Thus he noted that 
 his rival, mounted on his mule, had proceeded to 
 a certain point of the road, and there had waited 
 as if he expected some one to arrive, but who failed 
 to appear. On going, Cyrino showed impatience 
 and uneasiness ; on returning, he seemed melan- 
 choly, distraught with care, and absorbed in pro- 
 found meditation. 
 
 The unhappy youth had indeed gone to the 
 trysting-place of Cesario, in the vain hopes that
 
 TOO LATE. 
 
 301 
 
 possibly he miglit come before the appointed time. 
 That time^ however, had now nearly expired and 
 the hour for the abandonment of all hope or the 
 consummation of his happiness was on the eve of 
 its approach. Ah ! if, with the powers of Joshua, 
 he could but stay the march of the sun until his 
 Saviour resolved to extend to him the hand of 
 help. 
 
 And now the week was ending. If Cesario 
 appeared not at the finish of the hours, then would 
 commence to reign the oath he swore, that irre- 
 vocable oath. 
 
 " T shall destroy myself,^'' said Cyrino ; '' they 
 Avill then at least know that I keep my word." 
 
 With this resolution the youth again left the 
 town, traversed the Eio Paranahyba, and, as before 
 followed the road of S. Francisco de Salles for 
 aboat twelve miles. 
 
 The day was clear, most beautiful. From all 
 around sounded the songs of birds. Amidst the 
 bush, the cicadas bah^d and whistled and whirred, 
 and on the green sward the partridges plaintively 
 cried. Cj'rino was extremely agitated, and heard 
 nothing of surrounding sounds. His fixed gaze 
 was never removed from the road ahead in the 
 anxious watch for any signs of the bearer of good 
 tidings.
 
 302 INNOCENCU. 
 
 Suddenly^ tliere fell upon Ms ear the sounds of 
 some one approaching^ the sounds of a galloping 
 horse. His heart beat so violently that it seemed 
 to be in a gallop itself. But alas ! the sound came 
 from behind him. Doubtless some one from the 
 town. Cyrino continued his march. 
 
 The rapid clatter of hoofs indicated some horse- 
 man riding at full speedy and soon it would be 
 seen who was thus riding so furiously in the torrid 
 heat of the day. The youth, however, heeded not, 
 so much so, that he barely glanced at the horse- 
 man who passed him by in bounding strides and 
 almost dashed against Cyrino's animal. Imme- 
 diately afterwards he heard also the sounds of 
 some horseman coming from the opposite direction, 
 while the rider who had just passed seemed to 
 have halted a little further on. Cyrino now awoke 
 from his lethargy, and, vigorously spurring his 
 animal, presently found himself face to face with 
 — Manecao. Instinctively he turned pale, and his 
 rival also changed colour. 
 
 Both men reined in their animals, and intently 
 gazed at one another for some seconds, one in 
 suspicion and astonishment, the other with ill- 
 concealed fury. 
 
 " A^Tiat are you doing here ? " inquired the 
 muleteer, in a tone of provocation.
 
 TOO LATE. 303 
 
 "I ?" 
 
 "Yes, you." 
 
 " That is good. See you not tliat I am on a 
 journey ?" 
 
 " All ! A journey ? Humpli ! On the j)rowl, 
 eh?" 
 
 ^' On the prowl ? No^ I am no brute beast/' 
 replied Cyrino warmly, at the same time raising 
 the cover of his pistol-holster. 
 
 " Then if you are not a prowler, what are you 
 then?" 
 
 " I am what I am, and that does not concern you." 
 
 The face of Manecao became distorted with rage, 
 and, in one bound, he brought his horse alongside 
 Cyrino's, when, in a low harsh voice, he ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 ^' I will tell you then what you are. You are a 
 thief ! a very cur ! " 
 
 At this insult Cyrino drew out his pistol. 
 
 " I will shoot you," he cried excitedly, ^' if you 
 continue to thus annoy me." 
 
 The muleteer smiled contemptuously. " Ho ! 
 ho ! ^' he jeered. "How brave we are! We can 
 actually handle a pistol." 
 
 " Let us finish this ! " cried Cyrino. 
 
 "Let us," retorted Manecao, with seeming calm- 
 ness.
 
 304 INNOCENCU. 
 
 " But wlio are you ? " asked Cyrino. 
 
 " I ?" 
 
 '' Yes, you ? " 
 
 '' Then do you not know me ? " 
 
 '^No — no/' stammered Cyrino. 
 
 " Do you know 'Nocencia, then ? " thundered 
 Manecao in the loudest tones of his powerful 
 voice ; and instantly drawing a long horse pistol 
 from his belt he discharged its contents full at 
 the breast of Cyrino, who immediately fell to the 
 earth. 
 
 Two fierce cries rent the air ; one, a wail of 
 agony, the other, a yell of triumph. 
 
 Cyrino, face downwards, was stretched full 
 length on the ground, and, although blood was 
 oozing from his mouth, with a great effort he 
 raised his head to confront his implacable foe, 
 who gazed impassively at his victim. 
 
 Cyrino broke into loud vociferations : '^'Assassin ! 
 Villain!— Ah! Yes! — Yes! — I do know Inno- 
 cencia ! — She is mine ! — Scoundrel ! You — you 
 have killed me — but thou hast killed her also. 
 What have I done to thee ? Deus will curse thee 
 — yes, ah men Deus ! mens Santos ! — Curses upon 
 this assassin. Fly ! — Hide thyself where thou wilt, 
 but my shade shall ever follow thee.'' 
 
 " So much the better," calmly observed Manecao
 
 TOO LATE. 305 
 
 from the heiglit of liis saddle, 'Hliat is just what I 
 would like/^ 
 
 "Ah ! you would ? " continued Cyrino, in a very 
 hoarse voice. " Then so be it ! By day and by 
 night — my shade — shall — shall be with thee always 
 — for — for ever." 
 
 He ceased for a few moments in a paroxysm of 
 pain, and writhed on the ground with the agony 
 of his wound. He passed a hand across his broAv, 
 already damp with the cold and clammy dews of 
 death. Gradually, as his respiration became more- 
 laboured, the wild expression of his face changed 
 to one more soft and gentle. 
 
 "No," said he gravely and in a tone of resigna- 
 tion, " I must not die — thus — I must leave this 
 world as a Christian — I must forgive thee — 
 Manecao, I do forgive thee— for — for the sake of 
 Christo— who died— on the Cross. 1— I forgive 
 thee, Manecao — Nosso Senhor, have pity on me — 
 but I forgive thee — Manecao, do you hear ? " 
 
 The piteous manner in which the dying man 
 uttered these sentences sensibly affected Manecao,. 
 and caused him to glare at his victim with startled 
 eyes of horror, while his frame trembled with 
 agitation. As if with considerable effort, he- 
 hoar sely muttered : 
 
 " I want not your forgiveness." 
 
 X
 
 3o6 INNOCENCU. 
 
 "No matter," gently responded Cyrino. "It 
 is — it is given from my heart. Take it, and 
 welcome it. Ah. ! poor Innocencia ! Who knows 
 if — if she will not follow me soon ? Ah ! this 
 agony ! Oh, Manecao ! Grive me water — water for 
 the love of Dens. Man, get off your horse. It is 
 a dying man who asks." With extended arms 
 and appealing looks, for a few moments he piti- 
 fully entreated Manecao, and then raising himself 
 to a sitting posture, he almost screamed, "Water 
 — water — give me water — and I will bless thee ! ^' 
 
 The muleteer felt huge drops of perspiration 
 trickle down his brow. He wanted to fly, but 
 horror held him captive. It seemed as if his glar- 
 ing eyes followed, step by step, the agonies of his 
 victim. That scene appeared to him as a night- 
 mare, and a complete torpor deadened his limbs 
 and faculties. What aroused him from such a 
 state of trance were the patter of hoofs upon the 
 sandy road. 
 
 Cyrino also heard them, and wistfully and 
 anxiously his. eyes glanced in the direction of the 
 sound, while a smile of bitter melancholy stole over 
 his face. 
 
 Manecao, now thoroughly aroused, immediately 
 clapped spurs to his horse, and, in the twinkling of 
 an eye, disappeared in a cloud of dust.
 
 TOO LATE. 307 
 
 At the same moment, in the opposite direction 
 and roimding a bend of the road, a horseman ap- 
 peared. Antonio Cesario himself. 
 
 On seeing a man stretched on the ground, he 
 hastened his movements. "The doctor!" he ex- 
 claimed, horrified at the sight, and hastily dis- 
 mounting. 
 
 " Even I," replied Cyrino, in a faint voice. 
 
 " But, Santo Deus ! " cried the Mineiro, " who 
 has done thee this foul deed ? " and hurrying to- 
 wards the young man, he knelt by his side and 
 raised the body on his knee. " Who was the 
 assassin ? " 
 
 " No one," murmured the miserable youth. " It 
 was — destiny — I die content. Give me — water — 
 water — and speak to me of — of Innocencia." 
 
 " Water, my poor fellow ! "" exclaimed Cesario, 
 in despair. " Here in the midst of the bush ? Why 
 the nearest stream is, at least, twelve miles away.'" 
 
 "Ah!" replied Cyrino wearily. "If there is 
 none to quench the — the thirst of the body — stay 
 the — cravings of my soul. Innocencia ? Where is 
 she ? Let me see her. Ah ! tell her I died for 
 her — for her sake." 
 
 " But tell me, who is the assassin ? " anxiously 
 inquired the Mineiro. 
 
 " It is not worth — mentioning," responded 
 
 x2
 
 3o8 INNOCENCIJ. 
 
 -Cyrino, in tlie intervals of liis rigours. "Tliink only 
 of — of — me. Now — listen — I never did ill to — 
 to any one — I have no — no great sins to — to answer 
 for. Think you that — that Deus will forgive me ? " 
 
 " I do indeed," earnestly responded Cesario. 
 
 '' What have I done in — in my life ? Perhaps — 
 deceived my — my fellows in saying I — I was a 
 medico. But many have — have I cured. Nothing 
 — else — do I — remember " 
 
 The shades of death came stealing over the face 
 of Cyrino. The light of life departed from his 
 glazing eyes, his jaw drooped, his nostrils dilated, 
 and a sinister pallor heightened, by contrast, the 
 dark shades of his hair and beard. 
 
 Cesario seated himself on the ground in order 
 to give an easier support to the body of the dying 
 man, and two huge tears rolled down his sunburnt 
 ■cheeks. 
 
 A slight shiver agitated the body of Cyrino. 
 "Now," he murmured, in a still low voice — "my 
 day — has arrived. But — I ask — thee — say no- 
 thing ; your goddaughter — do not allow — her — to 
 — to marry — Manecao." 
 
 " Then," quickly interrupted Cesario, " it was 
 then he who ? " 
 
 "No — no — but she — will be — unhappy. Do 3^ou 
 hoar ? Oh ! promise me."
 
 TOO LATE. 309 
 
 " I do promise you, my poor fellow," sternly 
 replied Cesario, " I will even swear to " 
 
 " Good — good," whispered Cyrino, as lie heaved 
 a sigh of content. Now — welcome — death. The 
 Saints of Paradise — take me — and call for — 
 
 for " With a final effort, and with his last 
 
 breath, he gasped, in a dying whisper, " Inno- 
 cencia ! Innocencia ! " 
 
 On the afternoon of that day, any traveller 
 passing by that wild bush-land would have noticed 
 by the side of the road a newly-made grave, and 
 above it a rough cross hastily formed of two stout 
 saplings bound together with the wild vines of the 
 forest.
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 MEYEE EE APPEARS. 
 
 On the 18tli of August, 1863, there occurred in 
 tlie ancient city of Mag'deburg a great and impor- 
 tant spectacle, and one tliat liad long been expected 
 hj the scientific world of learned Germany. 
 
 It was a solemn and extraordinary meeting of 
 all the effective, honorary, and corresponding 
 members of the Entomological Society; attended 
 also by numerous friends, learned savants, and 
 ladies, all of whom had been assembled together 
 in order to give a public reception and a hearty 
 welcome home to one of the most distinsruished 
 members of the society, one of the most inde- 
 fatigable investigators of the secrets of nature, an 
 intrepid traveller who had been absent for years 
 from his country, and who now returned from his 
 many wanderings in the wilds of South America, 
 where he had penetrated so far into the central 
 regions that it had been impossible to follow his 
 route even on the special maps and charts of the 
 great collector, Simon Schropp. 
 
 Science appeared in full gala costume. All the 
 members [were in evening dress, and with many
 
 EPILOGUE. 311 
 
 ladies in rich toilettes, they filled tlie vast saloon 
 long before tlie hour of meeting, listening mean- 
 while to the strains of a band discoursing the 26th 
 Sonata of Beethoven. 
 
 Suddenly a loud and enthusiastic cheer rent the 
 air. " Meyer ! Meyer ! Hoch ! Hoch ! Meyer." 
 
 Necks were eagerly craned to catch the first 
 glimpses of his arrival, handkerchiefs and hats 
 were enthusiastically waved, and cheer after cheer 
 welcomed the appearance of Meyer. As soon as 
 the noise of the reception had calmed down, the 
 president of the society arose, a j)i'esident thin 
 as a spit, and adorned with such flaming red hair 
 that it gave him the aspect of an ember of fire. 
 
 " Yes ! ■'^ he exclaimed, after swallowing a few 
 drops of water to moisten his throat, " yes, here 
 at last once more safe in the midst of us is the 
 great and incomparable Wilhelm Tembel Meyer.''^ 
 Then in a long speech which lasted nearly two 
 hours, and which was largely interlarded with 
 most complimentary allusions to the prowess of 
 the intrepid traveller, the speaker gave his auditors 
 an outline of the coui'se of the wanderings of, and 
 the discoveries made by, their distinguished guest. 
 
 On the following day the newspapers o£ Madge- 
 burg contained an extensive description of the 
 festival and the speech of the president, and, as 
 an appendage to the biographical notes relating
 
 312 INNOCENCIA. 
 
 to Meyer, tliey enumerated the entomological pro- 
 digies that lie had collected in his many peregri- 
 nations. 
 
 " What is most worthy of admiration," said 
 Die Zeit, "in all the immense collection that Dr. 
 Meyer has gathered in his journej^s, is without 
 doubt a butterfly of a completely new g*enus and 
 of a splendour beyond conception. It is the 
 Papilio Innocentia." (Then followed a minute 
 description, thoroughly German). "The name," 
 added the paper, "given by the eminent naturalist 
 to that superb specimen was in graceful homage 
 to the beauty of a maiden of the deserts of the 
 province of Mato Grrosso (Brazil) ; a creature, 
 according to the account of Dr. Meyer, of most 
 enchanting loveliness. It is therefore seen that 
 savants also have sensitive hearts, and sometimes 
 can utilise science as a means to demonstrate 
 sentiments which they are not generally supposed 
 to possess." 
 
 Innocencia, poor girl ! Alas ! A few months 
 only after the death of Cyrino her graceful form 
 was delivered to Mother Earth, to sleep in the 
 Sertao of Sant' Anna do Paranahyba, the last long 
 sleep of Eternity. 
 
 ■Westminster : FriuteJ by XiCHULS nud Soxs, 25, rarliiuuent Street.
 
 J L^/^ y
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 
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