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Part 6

--Still mocking me, infamous woman!--cried the girl, and this time her cheeks flushed with an extraordinary redness, and flashes of terrible anger sparkled in her eyes.

--Oh! do not exasperate yourself like that, Malvina; I am jesting,--said Leôncio, trying to take her hand.

--A fine occasion for jests!... leave me, sir!... what infamy!... what shame for us both?...

--But will you not explain yourself?

--I have nothing to explain; you understand me well enough. I have only to demand...

--Then demand, Malvina.

--Give some destination to that slave, at whose feet you are accustomed to prostrate yourself vilely: free her, sell her, do what you wish. Either I or she must abandon this house forever; and that this very day. Choose between us.

--Today!?

--And now!

--You are very demanding and unjust toward me, Malvina,--said Leôncio after a moment of astonishment and hesitation.--You well know that it is my desire to free Isaura; but does that depend on me alone? It is for my father to do what you demand of me.

--What a miserable excuse, sir! your father has already handed over to you slaves and estate, and will consider well done whatever you do. But if perhaps you prefer her to me...

--Malvina!... do not say such blasphemy!...

--Blasphemy!... who knows!... but in short, give some destination to that girl, if you do not wish to expel me forever from your house. As for me, I do not want her in my service even a moment longer; she is too pretty to be a maid.

--What did I tell you, Senhor Leôncio? interjected Henrique, who, already tired and ashamed of the role of mute bodyguard, thought he too should intervene in the quarrel.--Do you see?... there is the fruit one reaps from those fine luxury trinkets, which you insist on having in your salon...

--Those trinkets would not be so dangerous, if there did not exist vile gossips, who do not hesitate to disturb the peace of others' houses to achieve their perverse ends...

--Hold on there, sir!... to prevent you from transporting your luxury trinket from the salon to the alcove, understand?... the scandal would sooner or later become notorious, and I have no duty to stand with crossed arms while my sister is indignantly insulted.

--Senhor Henrique! shouted Leôncio, advancing toward him, rigid with anger and with a threatening gesture.

--Enough, gentlemen!--cried Malvina, interposing herself between the two young men.--All dispute for such a motive is useless and shameful for us all. I have already told Leôncio what I had to say; let him decide; let him do what he thinks best. If he wishes to be a man of spirit and honor, there is still time. If not, leave me, for I will deliver him to the contempt he deserves.

--Oh! Malvina! I am ready to do all possible to tranquilize and content you; but you must know that I cannot satisfy your desire without first coming to an understanding with my father, who is at court. You must know further that my father has no wish to free Isaura, so much so that, to free himself from the importunities of her father, who also wants at all costs to free her, he demanded a sum so exorbitant that it is almost impossible for the poor man to raise it.

--Hello there!... may I come in?--shouted at that moment, in a strong and sonorous voice, a person who was coming up the stairs of the porch.

--Whoever it is, may enter,--shouted Leôncio, giving thanks to heaven, which so opportunely sent him a visit to interrupt that importunate and detestable question and deliver him from the straits in which he found himself wedged.

Meanwhile, as will be seen, he had not much to congratulate himself on. The visitor was Miguel, the former overseer of the estate, the father of Isaura, who had once been rudely dismissed by Leôncio's father.

The latter, who did not yet know him, received him with affability.

--Please sit down,--he said to him,--and tell us the motive for which you do us the honor of seeking us out.

--Thank you!--said the newcomer, after respectfully greeting Henrique and Malvina.--Your Lordship is doubtless Senhor Leôncio?...

--At your service.

--Very well!... it is with Your Lordship that I have to deal in the absence of your father. My business is simple, and I believe I can declare it in the presence here of the sir and the lady, who seem to me to be people of the house.

--Doubtless! among us there is no secret, nor reserves.

--Here is what I came for, my sir,--said Miguel, taking from the pocket of his loose overcoat a wallet, which he presented to Leôncio;--please open this wallet; here Your Lordship will find the sum demanded by your father for the freedom of a slave of this house by the name of Isaura.

Leôncio stiffened, and taking the wallet mechanically, remained some moments with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

--From what I see,--he said at last,--you must be the father... the one they say is the father of the said slave;... it is you... I do not recall the name...

--Miguel, a servant of Your Lordship.

--It is true; Senhor Miguel. I am very glad that you have arranged means to free the girl; she well deserves that sacrifice.

While Leôncio opens the wallet, and counts and recounts very slowly note by note the money, more to gain time to reflect on what he should do in those circumstances than to verify whether the sum was exact, let us take advantage of the occasion to contemplate the figure of the good and honorable Portuguese, father of our heroine, with whom we have not yet occupied ourselves except in passing.

He was a man of more than fifty years; in his noble and open physiognomy transpired frankness, good nature, and loyalty.

He dressed poorly, but with much neatness and cleanliness, and by his manners and conversation one knew that this man had not come to Brazil, like almost all his countrymen, dominated by the greed for riches. He had the manner and language of a polished man, and of careful education. In fact Miguel was the son of a noble and honorable family of Miguelists, who had emigrated to Brazil. His parents, victims of political persecutions, died without having anything to bequeath to their son, whom they left at the age of eighteen to twenty years. Alone, without means and without protection, he saw himself forced to live by the work of his arms, becoming a gardener and horticulturist, a trade which, as the son of a farmer, robust, active and intelligent, he performed with the utmost skill and perfection.

Leôncio's father, having had occasion to know him, and appreciating his merit, engaged him as overseer of his estate with advantageous conditions. There he served many years, always much respected and loved by all, until there happened to him the fatal but very pardonable weakness that we know, and in consequence of which he was rudely dismissed by his master. Miguel conceived bitter resentment and deep grief, not so much for himself as for love of the two unhappy creatures whom he could not protect against the fury of a perverse and brutal master. But he was forced to resign himself. He lacked neither service nor welcome in the neighboring estates. Knowing his merit, the farmers around would have accepted him with open arms; the difficulty was in the choice. He opted for the nearest, to stay as close as possible to his dear little daughter.

As the commander was almost always at court or in Campos, Miguel had much occasion and facility to go see the girl, for whom he each time created a more deep-rooted affection. The commander's wife, in the latter's absence, gave the Portuguese free entry into her house, and facilitated for him the means to see and caress his little daughter, with which he lived very consoled and content. In fact heaven had given his daughter, in the person of his lady, a second mother as good and devoted as the first could be, and who more than the first could serve her as support and protection. The unexpected death of that virtuous lady came to shatter his heart, breaking all his flattering hopes.

Much can paternal love do in a noble and sensitive soul!... Miguel, overcoming all the hatred, repugnance and disgust that the person of the commander inspired in him, did not hesitate to go humiliate himself before him, importune him with his supplications, beg him with tears in his eyes to set a price for Isaura's freedom.

--There is no money that can pay for her; she must always be mine,--responded with proud cynicism the inexorable master to the unhappy and afflicted father.

One day at last, to free himself from Miguel's importunities and supplications, he said to him rudely.

--Man of God, bring me within a year ten contos de réis, and I will deliver your daughter free to you and ... leave me for charity's sake. If you do not come within that term, lose your hopes.

--Ten contos de réis! it is too large a sum for me;... but it does not matter!... she is worth much more than that. Senhor commander, I will do the impossible to bring you that sum within the appointed term. I hope in God, who will help me.

The poor man, by dint of work and economy, imposing privations on himself, selling all that was superfluous, and limiting himself to what was strictly necessary, at the end of the year had only arranged half the demanded sum. He had to resort to the generosity of his new master, who, knowing the holy and noble end to which his overseer proposed himself, and the vexation and extortion of which he was a victim, did not hesitate to furnish him the necessary sum, by way of loan or advance of wages.

Leôncio, who like his father judged it impossible that Miguel in one year could arrange so considerable a sum, was astonished and highly vexed when the latter presented himself to put it into his hands.

--Ten contos,--said at last Leôncio, finishing counting the money.--It is exactly the sum demanded by my father.--How stupid and avaricious this father of mine is, murmured he to himself,--I would not give her even for a hundred contos.--Senhor Miguel,--he continued aloud, handing him back the wallet,--keep your money for now; Isaura does not belong to me yet; only my father can dispose of her. My father is at court, and left me no authorization whatever to deal with such business. Arrange it with him.

--But Your Lordship is his son and sole heir, and could well by yourself...

--Hold on there, mister Miguel! My father is fortunately still alive, and I am not permitted to dispose of his property as my inheritance just yet.

--Very well, sir; have the kindness to keep that money and send it to your father, begging him on my behalf to do me the favor of fulfilling the promise he made me to give Isaura her freedom in exchange for that sum.

--Are you still hesitating, Leoncio?!--exclaimed Malvina, impatient and indignant at her husband's evasions.--Write, write as soon as possible to your father; you cannot without dishonor evade cooperating for that girl's freedom.

Leoncio, subdued by his wife's imperious gaze and by the force of circumstances conspiring against him, could no longer excuse himself. Pale, somber, and pensive, he went to sit by a table where there was paper and ink, and with pen in hand began to ponder in the attitude of one about to write. Malvina and Henrique, leaning at a window, conversed with each other in low voices. Miguel, seated in a corner at the other end of the room, waited patiently, when Isaura, who from the yard, where she had been hidden, had seen him arrive, entering the parlor without being noticed, appeared before his eyes. Between father and daughter the following dialogue took place in half-whispers:

--My father!... what news brings you here?... it seems to me I see you looking merrier than usual.

--Hush!--murmured Miguel, putting his finger to his lips and pointing at Leoncio.--It is about your freedom.

--Truly, my father?... but how could you arrange that?

--How else?... at the weight of gold. I bought you, my daughter, and soon you will be mine.

--Ah! my dear father!... how good you are to your daughter!... if you knew how many have already come today to offer me freedom!... but at what a price! my God!... I don't even dare tell you. My heart foretold it, he continued, kissing Miguel's hands with tender effusion;--I should not receive freedom except from the hands of the one who gave me life!...

--Yes, dear Isaura!--said the old man, pressing her to his heart.--Heaven has favored us, and soon you will be mine, mine alone, mine forever!...

Domínio Público

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