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Updated: June 23, 2025
As for Manoel, he divided his time between the house, where Yaquita and her daughter were as busy as possible, and the clearing, to which Benito fetched him rather oftener than he thought convenient, and on the whole the division was very unequal, as may well be imagined. IT WAS a Sunday, the 26th of May, and the young people had made up their minds to take a holiday.
Benito, followed by Manoel, hurried along his mother, and half an hour later they arrived before the prison. Owing to the order previously given by Judge Jarriquez they were immediately admitted, and conducted to the chamber occupied by the prisoner. The door opened. Joam Dacosta saw his wife, his son, and Manoel enter the room. "Ah! Joam, my Joam!" exclaimed Yaquita.
When shall we start?" "Ah! Joam! my Joam!" cried Yaquita, in her joy. "Thank you for me! Thank you for them!" And tears of affection came to her eyes as her husband clasped her to his heart. At this moment happy voices were heard outside at the door of the house. Manoel and Benito appeared an instant after at the threshold, almost at the same moment as Minha entered the room.
The prosperity of the settlement could not do otherwise than grow when these two minds were thus united. A year after her marriage Yaquita presented her husband with a son, and, two years after, a daughter. Benito and Minha, the grandchildren of the old Portuguese, became worthy of their grandfather, children worthy of Joam and Yaquita. The daughter grew to be one of the most charming of girls.
If he spoke little to Joam, he addressed himself more willingly to Yaquita and her daughter, and appeared not to notice the evident coolness with which he was received. They all agreed that when the raft arrived at Manaos, Torres should leave it, and that they would never speak of him again.
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.
"Madame Yaquita and her daughter have never set foot on Brazilian ground; and as for Joam Garral, it is the first time he has crossed the frontier since he went to the farm of old Magalhaes." "I suppose," asked Torres, "that there are some servants with the family?"
Joam and Yaquita had there received the nuptial benediction of the Padre Passanha, who was then the curate of Iquitos parish. At that time, as now, there was no distinction in Brazil between the civil and religious acts, and the registers of the mission were sufficient testimony to a ceremony which no officer of the civil power was intrusted to attend to.
I will never forget it, but the price you would pay for my endeavors is out of all proportion to what they are worth." The old man insisted. Death would not allow him to wait; he demanded the promise, and it was made to him. Yaquita was then twenty-two years old, Joam was twenty-six.
Yaquita, his daughter, had, in this silent young man, so gentle to others, so stern to himself, recognized the sterling qualities which her father had done. She was in love with him, but though on his side Joam had not remained insensible to the merits and the beauty of this excellent girl, he was too proud and reserved to dream of asking her to marry him.
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