“That proof, Benito, lies wholly in the twenty-three years of an
honorable and honored life, lies entirely in the bearing of Joam
Dacosta, who comes forward to say to justice, ‘Here am I! I do not
care for this false existence any more. I do not care to hide under a
name which is not my true one! You have condemned an innocent man!
Confess your errors and set matters right.”
“And when my father spoke like that, you did not hesitate for a
moment to believe him?”
“Not for an instant,” replied Manoel.
The hands of the two young fellows closed in a long and cordial
grasp.
Then Benito went up to Padre Passanha.
“Padre,” he said, “take my mother and sister away to their rooms. Do
not leave them all day. No one here doubts my father’s innocence–not
one, you know that! To-morrow my mother and I will seek out the chief
of the police. They will not refuse us permission to visit the
prison. No! that would be too cruel. We will see my father again, and
decide what steps shall be taken to procure his vindication.”
Yaquita was almost helpless, but the brave woman, though nearly
crushed by this sudden blow, arose. With Yaquita Dacosta it was as
with Yaquita Garral. She had not a doubt as to the innocence of her
husband. The idea even never occurred to her that Joam Dacosta had
been to blame in marrying her under a name which was not his own. She
only thought of the life of happiness she had led with the noble man
who had been injured so unjustly. Yes! On the morrow she would go to
the gate of the prison, and never leave it until it was opened!
Padre Passanha took her and her daughter, who could not restrain her
tears, and the tree entered the house.
The two young fellows found themselves alone.
“And now,” said Benito, “I ought to know all that my father has told
you.”
“I have nothing to hide from you.”
“Why did Torres come on board the jangada?”
“To see to Joam Dacosta the secret of his past life.”
“And so, when we first met Torres in the forest of Iquitos, his plan
had already been formed to enter into communication with my father?”
“There cannot be a doubt of it,” replied Manoel. “The scoundrel was
on his way to the fazenda with the idea of consummating a vile scheme
of extortion which he had been preparing for a long time.”
“And when he learned from us that my father and his whole family were
about to pass the frontier, he suddenly changed his line of conduct?”
“Yes. Because Joam Dacosta once in Brazilian territory became more at
his mercy than while within the frontiers of Peru. That is why we
found Torres at Tabatinga, where he was waiting in expectation of our
arrival.”
“And it was I who offered him a passage on the raft!” exclaimed
Benito, with a gesture of despair.
“Brother,” said Manoel, “you need not reproach yourself. Torres would
have joined us sooner or later. He was not the man to abandon such a
trail. Had we lost him at Tabatinga, we should have found him at
Manaos.”
“Yes, Manoel, you are right. But we are not concerned with the past
now. We must think of the present. An end to useless recriminations!
Let us see!” And while speaking, Benito, passing his hand across his
forehead, endeavored to grasp the details of the strange affair.
“How,” he asked, “did Torres ascertain that my father had been
sentenced twenty-three years back for this abominable crime at
Tijuco?”
“I do not know,” answered Manoel, “and everything leads me to think
that your father did not know that.”
“But Torres knew that Garral was the name under which Joam Dacosta
was living?”
“Evidently.”
“And he knew that it was in Peru, at Iquitos, that for so many years
my father had taken refuge?”
“He knew it,” said Manoel, “but how he came to know it I do not
understand.”
“One more question,” continued Benito. “What was the proposition that
Torres made to my father during the short interview which preceded