Part 25

--Yes, my daughter, do not think about that man anymore; sweep from your mind that mad love; it is I who ask and advise you.

--Why, my father?... how can I be ungrateful to that young man?...

--But you must no longer count on him, and much less on his love.

--For what reason? perhaps he has forgotten me?...

--Your humble condition does not permit you to look with love upon such a high personage; an abyss separates you from him. The love you inspired in him was nothing but a momentary caprice, a nobleman's fantasy. It pains me to tell you this, Isaura; but it is the pure truth.

--Ah! my father! what are you saying!... if you knew the harm those terrible words do me!... at least leave me the consolation of believing that he loved me, that he still loves me. What interest did he have in deceiving a poor slave?...

--I would have liked to spare you this grief as well; but you must know everything. That young man ... ah! my daughter, prepare your heart for yet another cruel blow.

--What is wrong with that young man?... asked Isaura trembling and agitated. Speak, my father; perhaps he has died?...

--No, my daughter, but ... he is married.

--Married!... Alvaro married!... oh! no; it is not possible!... who told you, my father?...

--He himself, Isaura; read this letter.

Isaura took the letter with a trembling and convulsive hand, and ran through it with wild eyes. Having read the letter, she did not utter a complaint, did not let out a sob, did not shed a tear, and she, pale as a corpse, eyes staring, mouth half-open, mute, motionless, rigid, remained there for a long time in the same position; one would say she had been petrified like Lot's wife, upon gazing at the flames in which the accursed city burned. At last, with a rapid and convulsive movement, she threw herself upon her father's breast and flooded him with a torrent of tears.

This copious weeping relieved her; she raised her head, dried her tears, and seemed to have recovered her tranquility, but a frozen tranquility, sinister, sepulchral. It seemed that her soul had been annihilated under the violence of that crushing blow, and that of Isaura only the phantom remained.

--I am dead, my father!... I am nothing more than a corpse;... do with me what you will....

These were the last words she uttered, with a funereal and faint voice, in that gloomy chamber.

--Come, my daughter, said Miguel kissing her on the forehead.--Do not give yourself over like this to despair; I have hope that you will live and be happy.

Miguel, a narrow and low spirit, a good and sensitive heart, but entirely a stranger to great passions, could not comprehend the full extent of the sacrifice he was imposing on his daughter. Viewing happiness more from the side of the interests of positive and material life than from the joys and demands of the heart, he dared to conceive sincere hopes of happier and more tranquil days for his daughter, and did not see that, subjecting her to such opprobrium, debasing her soul, he was crushing her heart. He wanted her to live, and did not see that that ignominious union, after so many and such bitter tortures as she had gone through, was the blow of compassion which, ending her existence, came to shorten her sufferings.

Malvina was in the parlor, and there awaited the result of the conference that Miguel had gone to have with his daughter. Rosa and André, with arms crossed beside the entrance door, were also there at her orders.

Malvina felt a painful tightening of the heart upon seeing the figure of Isaura appear at the door, leaning on Miguel's arm, livid and disfigured like a patient in agony, her hair in disarray, and with unsteady steps entering, like a specter evoked from the sepulcher, into that parlor, where not long ago she had seen her so radiant with beauty and youth; into that parlor, which seemed still to repeat the last accents of her sweet and melodious voice.

Even so, the wretched captive was still beautiful. The thinness, making the contours and facial angles stand out, heightened the ideal purity and severe energy of that antique type.

The large black eyes covered with a dull and melancholic light were like funeral candles beneath the somber arch of a tomb chapel. The hair spilled in disorder around her neck made light shadows ripple across it with a marvelous effect, like garlands of ivy draping over the ancient marble of a statue paled by time. In that wretched situation, Isaura offered the sculptor a beautiful model of the ancient Niobe.

--That is Isaura!... oh! my God! poor thing!--murmured Malvina upon seeing her, and she had to dry two tears that her sorrow had moistened upon her eyelids. She was on the point of going to implore clemency from her husband in favor of the poor little one, but she remembered the perverse inclinations and bad behavior that Leoncio treacherously attributed to Isaura, and resolved to clothe herself in all the impassibility she could.

--So, Isaura,--said Malvina gently,--have you already made your resolution?... are you decided to marry the husband we want to give you?

Isaura, as her only answer, lowered her head and fixed her eyes on the ground.

--Yes, madam,--Miguel answered for her;--Isaura is resolved to comply with Your Worships' will.

--She does very well. It is not possible that she should suffer any longer that cruel treatment, which I cannot consent to while she is in this house. It was not for that purpose that her late mistress raised her with such pampering, and gave her such a good education.

Isaura, despite your fall, I still love you, and I will no longer tolerate such a scandal. We are going to give you at the same time your freedom and an excellent husband.

--Excellent!... my God! What mockery!--reflected Isaura.

--Belchior is a very good young man, inoffensive, peaceful and hardworking; I believe you will get along with him excellently. Besides, to obtain freedom no sacrifice is great, is that not so, Isaura?

--No doubt, madam; since you so wish it, I humbly submit to my destiny. They tear me from the dungeon--(Isaura continued in her thoughts)--to lead me to torture.

--Very well, Isaura; you show that you are a docile and sensible girl. André, go call Mr. Belchior here. I myself want to have the pleasure of announcing to him that his cherished dream of so many years is finally going to come true.

I believe Mr. Miguel also will not be displeased with the arrangement we are making for his daughter; at least it is something to leave captivity and marry a white and free man. Better this than to flee, and go wandering as a fugitive through the world. Isaura, as proof of how much I desire your good, I want to be godmother at this wedding, which will put an end to your sufferings, and restore to this house the peace and contentment that have long been banished from it.

Having said these words, Malvina opened a coffer of jewels that was on a table, and from it took a rich gold necklace, which she placed around Isaura's neck.

--Accept this, Isaura,--she said,--it is my betrothal gift.

--Thank you, my good lady,--said Isaura, and added in her heart;--it is the rope that the executioner comes to throw around the victim's neck.

At that moment Belchior comes in accompanied by André.

--Here I am, my lady,--he says,--what does this, your least servant, desire?

--To give you my congratulations, Mr. Belchior,--answered Malvina.

--Congratulations!... but I do not know why!...

--Well, I will tell you; know that Isaura is going to be free, and ... guess the rest.

--And she is certainly going away ... oh!... it is a misfortune!

--I see you are not a good guesser. Isaura is resolved to marry you.

--What are you saying, mistress!... pardon, I cannot believe it. Your Grace is mocking me.

--I am telling you the truth; there she is, she will not let me lie. Get ready, Mr. Belchior, and as soon as possible, for tomorrow the wedding must take place right here in the house.

--Oh! my lady! divinity of the earth!--exclaimed Belchior, going to throw himself at Malvina's feet and trying to kiss them,--let me kiss those feet....

--Get up from there, Mr. Belchior; it is not to me, it is to Isaura that you must give thanks.

Belchior gets up and runs to prostrate himself at Isaura's feet.

--Oh! princess of my heart!--he exclaimed, clutching at the legs of the poor slave, who, weak as she was, almost went to the ground with the force of that furious and enthusiastic clutching. It was enough to make anyone burst with laughter, who did not know how much of the tragic and painful lay at the bottom of that impious and ignoble farce.

--Isaura!... will you not look at me? here at your feet is this, your least captive Belchior!... look at him, at this your adorer, who today is more than a prince ... give me that little hand, let me eat it with kisses...

--My God! what a hideous farce they force me to perform!--murmured Isaura to herself, and turning her face away she abandoned her hand to Belchior, who, pressing his mouth to it in a transport of enthusiasm, burst into tears like a child.

--Look at that fool!--said André to Rosa, who were observing that tragicomic scene from the side.--And then let them come tell me that it is not honey for the donkey's mouth!

--I would rather they marry me to an alligator.

--This young master of mine has devilish ideas! who would have thought of marrying a mermaid to a dolphin.

--Envious one!... it is you who wanted to be the dolphin, that is why you are standing there twisting your nose. Take that!... serves you right!... now what was missing was for the young master to give you Isaura as a dowry.

--That is what I would like!... I bet Isaura is not going to marry of her own free will! and then ... we would manage things ... I would have to thread the dolphin through the eye of a needle.

--Get out of here, fool!... do you think Isaura cares about you?...

--Do not get worked up, my Rosa; now there is no remedy but to content myself with you, who after all is also quite pretty, and ... everything that falls into the trap is fish.

--That is low!... put up with your lot, and go console yourself with whomever you like, except me.

Chapter XXI.

--So, Leoncio,--Malvina was saying to her husband the next morning,--did you take the necessary measures to arrange that business today?

"I believe this is the hundredth time you have asked me that question, Malvina," replied Leôncio, smiling; "yet for the hundredth time I will also answer you, that the arrangements on my part have all been made. Only yesterday I sent a messenger to Campos, and before long the notary will arrive to draw up the deed of freedom for Isaura with all solemnity, and also the priest to celebrate the marriage. You see that I have forgotten nothing. See to it that everyone is ready; and you, Malvina, go and have the chapel prepared at once for this marriage to take place, which you seem to desire more ardently," he added, smiling, "than you desired your own."

Malvina left the parlor, leaving Leôncio in the company of a third person, who was also there, by the name of Jorge, whom the reader does not yet know. To say that he was a parasite is not to have said everything.

This genus contains many varieties, and even each individual has his own particular color and feature. He was a well-favored man, witty, obliging, full of courtesy and amiability, indispensable conditions for a good parasite. Jorge did not live off the sap and shade of a single tree; he leaped from one to another, and thus wandered over long distances, which was on his part an excellent calculation, for it provided him with a more varied and recreative life, at the same time that it made his company less inconvenient and tiresome to his numerous friends. He knew and maintained friendly relations with all the planters along the banks of the Paraíba from São João da Barra to São Fidélis. If one were to believe what he said, he was always full of things to do and carrying forward a thousand important dealings, but he was always ready to set them aside at the invitation of any of these friends to spend some eight or fifteen days in their company.