“Yes; Juan Fernandez, a merchant, in Santa Maria Street of Callao, number ten, knows me well, and has several times recommended me to traders and gold-seekers as a trustworthy guide, and if you address Pita, Indian guide, care of Señor Juan Fernandez, he will, I know, keep it for me until I call upon him.”
“You will understand, Pita, that in paying you and Hurka only the balance of wages agreed on, I do so because I have no more money with me than is needed to carry me home; it in no way represents the deep obligation which I feel towards you both.”
“Say no more of that, señor; we have done our duty, and should have done as much had you been one to whom we felt bound in no way beyond our agreement, but with you it has been altogether different. Had we been men of your own race you could not have treated us more kindly. We have been comrades and companions. If we saved your life, you must remember that you saved mine; say nothing, therefore, of an obligation. Hurka and I will always remember our journey with you as one of the most pleasant that we ever took. The toil has not been great, for we always went with the stream, while as to danger, we have both passed through many vastly greater perils. If you are satisfied with our services we are content, and more than content.”
Two days later Stephen took his place in a large boat, with a long cabin on deck, carrying a mast and great sail. He parted with the Indians with deep regret, and watched them as, after looking after the boat until it had gone far down, they turned and went along the shore to a little craft on which they had arranged for a passage, and which was to start half [pg 351]an hour after he sailed. Then Stephen turned round to look at his fellow-passengers. One end of the deck was reserved for the whites. Here was a priest who had been up at Barra on a visit, two traders who had disposed of their merchandise and were returning to Para, an old Portuguese official, his wife, and two daughters, who had, he learnt, been staying for a month with a married daughter at Barra; besides these, there were three or four petty traders, who had come up from villages on the bank to replenish their stock of goods.
In the fore-part of the vessel were fully a score of natives, among whom were several women. An awning was extended over the after part of the upper deck, and it was not long before Stephen entered into conversation with his fellow-passengers. Hitherto he had thought of nothing but obtaining his passage, laying in a stock of provisions—for he was warned that each passenger catered for himself—and saying last words to his Indian companions; he had, therefore, had no time to obtain news of what was going on. After telling them that he had come down the Madeira, and had been laid up for more than eight months by illness, he said to the priest:
“I have now been some sixteen months away from all news, and feel like a man who has dropped from the moon.”
“Then you are ignorant,” the priest said in surprise, “that the southern portion of Brazil has declared Dom Pedro emperor.”
“Dom Pedro!” Stephen repeated in surprise. “Is his father, King John, then dead?”
“No, he has returned to Portugal. You know that he was driven from that country by the French, and retired here and ruled over Brazil.”
“That I know,” Stephen said; “also that there were incessant plots and insurrections.”