Jules Verne (21 page)

"Well, my dear boy," replied Passanha, "seek out some lovely and gentle
girl who wishes you well, and you will see that I can marry you at the
same time!"

"Well answered, padre!" exclaimed Manoel. "Let us drink to the coming
marriage of Benito."

"We must look out for some nice young lady at Belem," said Minha. "He
should do what everybody else does."

"To the wedding of Mr. Benito!" said Fragoso, "who ought to wish all the
world to marry him!"

"They are right, sir," said Yaquita. "I also drink to your marriage, and
may you be as happy as Minha and Manoel, and as I and your father have
been!"

"As you always will be, it is to be hoped," said Torres, drinking a
glass of port without having pledged anybody. "All here have their
happiness in their own hands."

It was difficult to say, but this wish, coming from the adventurer, left
an unpleasant impression.

Manoel felt this, and wishing to destroy its effect, "Look here, padre,"
said he, "while we are on this subject, are there not any more couples
to betroth on the raft?"

"I do not know," answered Padre Passanha, "unless Torres—you are not
married, I believe?"

"No; I am, and always shall be, a bachelor."

Benito and Manoel thought that while thus speaking Torres looked toward
Minha.

"And what should prevent you marrying?" replied Padre Passanha; "at
Belem you could find a wife whose age would suit yours, and it would be
possible perhaps for you to settle in that town. That would be better
than this wandering life, of which, up to the present, you have not made
so very much."

"You are right, padre," answered Torres; "I do not say no. Besides the
example is contagious. Seeing all these young couples gives me rather
a longing for marriage. But I am quite a stranger in Belem, and, for
certain reasons, that would make my settlement more difficult."

"Where do you come from, then?" asked Fragoso, who always had the idea
that he had already met Torres somewhere.

"From the province of Minas Geraes."

"And you were born—"

"In the capital of the diamond district, Tijuco."

Those who had seen Joam Garral at this moment would have been surprised
at the fixity of his look which met that of Torres.

BUT THE CONVERSATION was continued by Fragoso, who immediately rejoined:

"What! you come from Tijuco, from the very capital of the diamond
district?"

"Yes," said Torres. "Do you hail from that province?"

"No! I come from the Atlantic seaboard in the north of Brazil," replied
Fragoso.

"You do not know this diamond country, Mr. Manoel?" asked Torres.

A negative shake of the head from the young man was the only reply.

"And you, Mr. Benito," continued Torres, addressing the younger Garral,
whom he evidently wished to join in the conversation; "you have never
had curiosity enough to visit the diamond arraval?"

"Never," dryly replied Benito.

"Ah! I should like to see that country," said Fragoso, who unconsciously
played Torres' game. "It seems to me I should finish by picking up a
diamond worth something considerable."

"And what would you do with this diamond worth something considerable,
Fragoso?" queried Lina.

"Sell it!"

"Then you would get rich all of a sudden!"

"Very rich!"

"Well, if you had been rich three months ago you would never have had
the idea of—that liana!"

"And if I had not had that," exclaimed Fragoso, "I should not have found
a charming little wife who—well, assuredly, all is for the best!"

"You see, Fragoso," said Minha, "when you marry Lina, diamond takes the
place of diamond, and you do not lose by the change!"

"To be sure, Miss Minha," gallantly replied Fragoso; "rather I gain!"

There could be no doubt that Torres did not want the subject to drop,
for he went on with:

"It is a fact that at Tijuco sudden fortunes are realized enough to turn
any man's head! Have you heard tell of the famous diamond of Abaete,
which was valued at more than two million contos of reis? Well, this
stone, which weighed an ounce, came from the Brazilian mines! And they
were three convicts—yes! three men sentenced to transportation for
life—who found it by chance in the River Abaete, at ninety leagues from
Terro de Frio."

"At a stroke their fortune was made?" asked Fragoso.

"No," replied Torres; "the diamond was handed over to the
governor-general of the mines. The value of the stone was recognized,
and King John VI., of Portugal, had it cut, and wore it on his neck on
great occasions. As for the convicts, they got their pardon, but that
was all, and the cleverest could not get much of an income out of that!"

"You, doubtless?" said Benito very dryly.

"Yes—I? Why not?" answered Torres. "Have you ever been to the diamond
district?" added he, this time addressing Joam Garral.

"Never!" said Joam, looking straight at him.

"That is a pity!" replied he. "You should go there one day. It is a very
curious place, I assure you. The diamond valley is an isolated spot in
the vast empire of Brazil, something like a park of a dozen leagues in
circumference, which in the nature of its soil, its vegetation, and
its sandy rocks surrounded by a circle of high mountains, differs
considerably from the neighboring provinces. But, as I have told you,
it is one of the richest places in the world, for from 1807 to 1817 the
annual return was about eighteen thousand carats. Ah! there have been
some rare finds there, not only for the climbers who seek the precious
stone up to the very tops of the mountains, but also for the smugglers
who fraudulently export it. But the work in the mines is not so
pleasant, and the two thousand negroes employed in that work by the
government are obliged even to divert the watercourses to get at the
diamantiferous sand. Formerly it was easier work."

"In short," said Fragoso, "the good time has gone!"

"But what is still easy is to get the diamonds in
scoundrel-fashion—that is, by theft; and—stop! in 1826, when I was
about eight years old, a terrible drama happened at Tijuco, which showed
that criminal would recoil from nothing if they could gain a fortune by
one bold stroke. But perhaps you are not interested?"

"On the contrary, Torres; go on," replied Joam Garral, in a singularly
calm voice.

"So be it," answered Torres. "Well, the story is about stealing
diamonds, and a handful of those pretty stones is worth a million,
sometimes two!"

And Torres, whose face expressed the vilest sentiments of cupidity,
almost unconsciously made a gesture of opening and shutting his hand.

"This is what happened," he continued. "At Tijuco it is customary to
send off in one delivery the diamonds collected during the year. They
are divided into two lots, according to their size, after being sorted
in a dozen sieves with holes of different dimensions. These lots are put
into sacks and forwarded to Rio de Janeiro; but as they are worth many
millions you may imagine they are heavily escorted. A workman chosen by
the superintendent, four cavalrymen from the district regiment, and ten
men on foot, complete the convoy. They first make for Villa Rica, where
the commandant puts his seal on the sacks, and then the convoy continues
its journey to Rio de Janeiro. I should add that, for the sake of
precaution, the start is always kept secret. Well, in 1826, a young
fellow named Dacosta, who was about twenty-two or twenty-three years of
age, and who for some years had been employed at Tijuco in the offices
of the governor-general, devised the following scheme. He leagued
himself with a band of smugglers, and informed them of the date of the
departure of the convoy. The scoundrels took their measures accordingly.
They were numerous and well armed. Close to Villa Rica, during the night
of the 22d of January, the gang suddenly attacked the diamond escort,
who defended themselves bravely, but were all massacred, with the
exception of one man, who, seriously wounded, managed to escape and
bring the news of the horrible deed. The workman was not spared any
more than the soldiers. He fell beneath he blows of the thieves, and was
doubtless dragged away and thrown over some precipice, for his body was
never found."

"And this Dacosta?" asked Joam Garral.

"Well, his crime did not do him much good, for suspicion soon pointed
toward him. He was accused of having got up the affair. In vain he
protested that he was innocent. Thanks to the situation he held, he was
in a position to know the date on which the convoy's departure was to
take place. He alone could have informed the smugglers. He was charged,
arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. Such a sentence required his
execution in twenty-four hours."

"Was the fellow executed?" asked Fragoso.

"No," replied Torres; "they shut him up in the prison at Villa Rica, and
during the night, a few hours only before his execution, whether alone
or helped by others, he managed to escape."

"Has this young man been heard of since?" asked Joam Garral.

"Never," replied Torres. "He probably left Brazil, and now, in some
distant land, lives a cheerful life with the proceeds of the robbery
which he is sure to have realized."

"Perhaps, on the other hand, he died miserably!" answered Joam Garral.

"And, perhaps," added Padre Passanha, "Heaven caused him to feel remorse
for his crime."

Here they all rose from the table, and, having finished their dinner,
went out to breathe the evening air. The sun was low on the horizon, but
an hour had still to elapse before nightfall.

"These stories are not very lively," said Fragoso, "and our betrothal
dinner was best at the beginning."

"But it was your fault, Fragoso," answered Lina.

"How my fault?"

"It was you who went on talking about the district and the diamonds,
when you should not have done so."

"Well, that's true," replied Fragoso; "but I had no idea we were going
to wind up in that fashion."

"You are the first to blame!"

"And the first to be punished, Miss Lina; for I did not hear you laugh
all through the dessert."

The whole family strolled toward the bow of the jangada. Manoel and
Benito walked one behind the other without speaking. Yaquita and her
daughter silently followed, and all felt an unaccountable impression of
sadness, as if they had a presentiment of some coming calamity.

Torres stepped up to Joam Garral, who, with bowed head, seemed to be
lost in thought, and putting his hand on his shoulder, said, "Joam
Garral, may I have a few minutes' conversation with you?"

Joam looked at Torres.

"Here?" he asked.

"No; in private."

"Come, then."

They went toward the house, entered it, and the door was shut on them.

It would be difficult to depict what every one felt when Joam Garral and
Torres disappeared. What could there be in common between the adventurer
and the honest fazender of Iquitos? The menace of some frightful
misfortune seemed to hang over the whole family, and they scarcely dared
speak to each other.

"Manoel!" said Benito, seizing his friend's arm, "whatever happens, this
man must leave us tomorrow at Manaos."

"Yes! it is imperative!" answered Manoel.

"And if through him some misfortune happens to my father—I shall kill
him!"

FOR A MOMENT, alone in the room, where none could see or hear them, Joam
Garral and Torres looked at each other without uttering a word. Did the
adventurer hesitate to speak? Did he suspect that Joam Garral would only
reply to his demands by a scornful silence?

Yes! Probably so. So Torres did not question him. At the outset of
the conversation he took the affirmative, and assumed the part of an
accuser.

"Joam," he said, "your name is not Garral. Your name is Dacosta!"

At the guilty name which Torres thus gave him, Joam Garral could not
repress a slight shudder.

"You are Joam Dacosta," continued Torres, "who, twenty-five years ago,
were a clerk in the governor-general's office at Tijuco, and you are
the man who was sentenced to death in this affair of the robbery and
murder!"

No response from Joam Garral, whose strange tranquillity surprised the
adventurer. Had he made a mistake in accusing his host? No! For Joam
Garral made no start at the terrible accusations. Doubtless he wanted to
know to what Torres was coming.

"Joam Dacosta, I repeat! It was you whom they sought for this diamond
affair, whom they convicted of crime and sentenced to death, and it was
you who escaped from the prison at Villa Rica a few hours before you
should have been executed! Do you not answer?"

Rather a long silence followed this direct question which Torres asked.
Joam Garral, still calm, took a seat. His elbow rested on a small table,
and he looked fixedly at his accuser without bending his head.

"Will you reply?" repeated Torres.

"What reply do you want from me?" said Joam quietly.

"A reply," slowly answered Torres, "that will keep me from finding out
the chief of the police at Manaos, and saying to him, 'A man is there
whose identity can easily be established, who can be recognized even
after twenty-five years' absence, and this man was the instigator of the
diamond robbery at Tijuco. He was the accomplice of the murderers of the
soldiers of the escort; he is the man who escaped from execution; he is
Joam Garral, whose true name is Joam Dacosta.'"

"And so, Torres," said Joam Garral, "I shall have nothing to fear from
you if I give the answer you require?"

"Nothing, for neither you nor I will have any interest in talking about
the matter."

"Neither you nor I?" asked Joam Garral. "It is not with money, then,
that your silence is to be bought?"