“You wrote to Judge Ribeiro.”
“Before he was a judge in this province,” answered Joam Dacosta, “he
was an advocate at Villa Rica. He it was who defended me in the trial
at Tijuco. He never doubted of the justice of my cause. He did all he
could to save me. Twenty years later, when he had become chief
justice at Manaos, I let him know who I was, where I was, and what I
wished to attempt. His opinion about me had not changed, and it was
at his advice I left the fazenda, and came in person to proceed with
my rehabilitation. But death had unfortunately struck him, and maybe
I shall be lost, sir, if in Judge Jarriquez I do not find another
Judge Ribeiro.”
The magistrate, appealed to so directly, was about to start up in
defiance of all the traditions of the judicial bench, but he managed
to restrain himself, and was contented with muttering:
“Very strong, indeed; very strong!”
Judge Jarriquez was evidently hard of heart, and proof against all
surprise.
At this moment a guard entered the room, and handed a sealed packet
to the magistrate.
He broke the seal and drew a letter from the envelope. He opened it
and read it, not without a certain contraction of his eyebrows, and
then said:
“I have no reason for hiding from you, Joam Dacosta, that this is the
letter you have been speaking about, addressed by you to Judge
Ribeiro and sent on to me. I have, therefore, no reason to doubt what
you have said on the subject.”
“Not only on that subject,” answered Dacosta, “but on the subject of
all the circumstances of my life which I have brought to your
knowledge, and which are none of them open to question.”
“Eh! Joam Dacosta,” quickly replie dJudge Jarriquez. “You protest
your innocence; but all prisoners do as much! After all, you only
offer moral presumptions. Have you any material proof?”
“Perhaps I have,” answered Joam Dacosta.
At these words, Judge Jarriquez left his chair. This was too much for
him, and he had to take two or three circuits of the room to recover
himself.
CHAPTER V
MATERIAL PROOFS
WHEN THE MAGISTRATE had again taken his place, like a man who
considered he was perfectly master of himself, he leaned back in his
chair, and with his head raised and his eyes looking straight in
front, as though not even noticing the accused, remarked, in a tone
of the most perfect indifference:
“Go on.”
Joam Dacosta reflected for a minute as if hesitating to resume the
order of his thoughts, and then answered as follows:
“Up to the present, sir, I have only given you moral presumptions of
my innocence grounded on the dignity, propriety, and honesty of the
whole of my life. I should have thought that such proofs were those
most worthy of being brought forward in matters of justice.”
Judge Jarriquez could not restrain a movement of his shoulders,
showing that such was not his opinion.
“Since they are not enough, I proceed with the material proofs which
I shall perhaps be able to produce,” continued Dacosta; “I say
perhaps, for I do not yet know what credit to attach to them. And,
sir, I have never spoken of these things to my wife or children, not
wishing to raise a hope which might be destroyed.”
“To the point,” answered Jarriquez.
“I have every reason to believe, sir, that my arrest on the eve of
the arrival of the raft at Manaos is due to information given to the
chief of the police!”
“You are not mistaken, Joam Dacosta, but I ought to tell you that the
information is anonymous.”
“It matters little, for I know that it could only come from a
scoundrel called Torres.”
“And what right have you to speak in such a way of this–informer?”
“A scoundrel! Yes, sir!” replied Joam quickly. “This man, whom I
received with hospitality, only came to me to propose that I should
purchase his silence to offer me an odious bargain that I shall never
regret having refused, whatever may be the consequences of his
denunciation!”
“Always this method!” thought Judge Jarriquez; “accusing others to