comparatively safe, and there for several months he could wait for an
opportunity of reaching the Pacific coast and taking passage in some
vessel leaving one of its ports; and if the ship were bound for one
of the States of North America he would be free. Once there, he could
sell the fazenda, eave his country forever, and seek beyond the sea,
in the Old World, a final retreat in which to end an existence so
cruelly and unjustly disturbed. Anywhere he might go, his family–not
excepting Manoel, who was bound to him by so many ties–would
assuredly follow without the slightest hesitation.
“Let us go,” said Benito; “we must have all ready before night, and
we have no time to lose.”
The young men returned on board by way of the canal bank, which led
along the Rio Negro. They satisfied themselves that the passage of
the pirogue would be quite possible, and that no obstacles such as
locks or boats under repair were there to stop it. They then
descended the left bank of the tributary, avoiding the slowly-filling
streets of the town, and reached the jangada.
Benito’s first care was to see his mother. He felt sufficiently
master of himself to dissemble the anxiety which consumed him. He
wished to assure her that all hope was not lost, that the mystery of
the document would be cleared up, that in any case public opinion was
in favor of Joam, and that, in face of the agitation which was being
made in his favor, justice would grant all the necessary time for the
production of the material proof his innocence. “Yes, mother,” he
added, “before to-morrow we shall be free from anxiety.”
“May heaven grant it so!” replied Yaquita, and she looked at him so
keenly that Benito could hardly meet her glance.
On his part, and as if by pre-arrangement, Manoel had tried to
reassure Minha by telling her that Judge Jarriquez was convinced of
the innocence of Joam, and would try to save him by every means in
his power.
“I only wish he would, Manoel,” answered she, endeavoring in vain to
restrain her tears.
And Manoel left her, for the tears were also welling up in his eyes
and witnessing against the words of hope to which he had just given
utterance.
And now the time had arrived for them to make their daily visit to
the prisoner, and Yaquita and her daughter set off to Manaos.
For an hour the young men were in consultation with Araujo. They
acquainted him with their plan in all its details, and they discussed
not only the projected escape, but the measures which were necessary
for the safety of the fugitive.
Araujo approved of everything; he undertook during the approaching
night to take the pirogue up the canal without attracting any notice,
and he knew its course thoroughly as far as the spot where he was to
await the arrival of Joam Dacosta. To get back to the mouth of the
Rio Negro was easy enough, and the pirogue would be able to pass
unnoticed among the numerous craft continually descending the river.
Araujo had no objection to offer to the idea of following the Amazon
down to its confluence with the Madeira. The course of the Madeira
was familiar to him for quite two hundred miles up, and in the midst
of these thinly-peopled provinces, even if pursuit took place in
their direction, all attempts at capture could be easily frustrated;
they could reach the interior of Bolivia, and if Joam decided to
leave his country he could procure a passage with less danger on the
coast of the Pacific than on that of the Atlantic.
Araujo’s approval was most welcome to the young fellows; they had
great faith in the practical good sense of the pilot, and not without
reason. His zeal was undoubted, and he would assuredly have risked
both life and liberty to save the fazender of Iquitos.
With the utmost secrecy Araujo at once set about his preparations. A
considerable sum in gold was handed over to him by Benito to meet all
eventualities during the voyage on the Madeira. In getting the