“I am quite willing to do so,” Stephen said. “In the meantime, señor, you will hear from the captain of the Bahia, now lying at the wharf, that I have at least come five hundred miles down the Amazon to this place, and there is one, Señor Vaquez, who is now in this hotel, or is at any rate putting up here, who came down with me all the way from Barra.”
The official at once sent upstairs for the trader, who was fortunately in his room, and who at once confirmed Stephen’s statement, that they had travelled together from Barra, and had left there some nine weeks before.
“This must be taken, señor,” the officer said, “to relieve you from any suspicion of having come here from the insurgent provinces. At the same time there remains the fact that you have entered Brazil without passports or other necessary papers, a matter which will have to be considered by the authorities. At the same time, pending their decision there will be no occasion for you to confine yourself to the hotel, as the offence can hardly be considered a very serious one.”
Two hours later Stephen was sent for to the governor’s. Here a few more questions were put to him as to the absence of papers, and he was then asked what were his intentions as to the future.
“By your own confession”, the officer who interrogated him said, “you are a fugitive from justice, and although we do not concern ourselves with crimes committed beyond our frontiers, we must concern ourselves with the movements of fugitives from justice who enter Portuguese territory without proper papers.”
“I intend to take ship to Europe,” Stephen replied. “My family have business connections there. I shall probably stay there until I hear that I can return home.”
“Very well, señor. So long as you remain here you will be [pg 357]under surveillance, but otherwise your movements will not be interfered with.”
Stephen bowed and withdrew. At the hotel that evening he learned news that surprised him and altered his plans. Some officers who had dined there were talking together, and Stephen, who was sitting near them drinking his coffee and smoking his cigarette, heard to his surprise the name of Lord Cochrane.
“There can be no doubt as to the truth of the news,” one said. “Not only has this English adventurer accepted the offer of Dom Pedro to take command of his fleet, but they say he is already on his way, and is expected to arrive at Rio in a few weeks. I am afraid that he will give us some trouble.”
“Not he,” another said scornfully. “One of our ships could dispose of the whole of the insurgent fleet. They are, as we know from our friends there, but armed merchantmen, the Pedro Primeiro being the only real war-ship among them. Moreover, their equipments are villainously bad, and their manning worse, the only real sailors they have being our countrymen, who will bring the ships over to us when the first gun is fired. Even the Englishman can do nothing with such ships as these against three well-appointed fleets like ours.”