Fragoso pulled out his arm in time, but he could not avoid the shock of the cayman, and was hurled back into the river, whose waters reddened all around.
“Fragoso! Fragoso!” shrieked Lina, kneeling on the edge of the raft.
A second afterward Fragoso reappeared on the surface of the Amazon—safe and sound.
But, at the peril of his life he had saved the young girl, who soon came to. And as all hands were held out to him—Manoel’s, Yaquita’s, Minha’s, and Lina’s, and he did not know what to say, he ended by squeezing the hands of the young mulatto.
However, though Fragoso had saved Minha, it was assuredly to the intervention of Torres that Joam Garral owed his safety.
It was not, therefore, the fazender’s life that the adventurer wanted. In the face of this fact, so much had to be admitted.
Manoel said this to Benito in an undertone.
“That is true!” replied Benito, embarrassed. “You are right, and in a sense it is one cruel care the less! Nevertheless, Manoel, my suspicions still exist! It is not always a man’s worst enemy who wishes him dead!”
Joam Garral walked up to Torres.
“Thank you, Torres!” he said, holding out his hand. The adventurer took a step or two backward without replying.