“Wait a little before you call me so, Manoel,” replied Joam, in a tone of unspeakable suffering.
Here Torres, with crossed arms, gave the whole family a look of inconceivable insolence.
“So that is you last word?” said he, extending his hand toward Joam Garral.
“No, that is not my last word.”
“What is it, then?”
“This, Torres. I am master here. You will be off, if you please, and even if you do not please, and leave the jangada at this very instant!”
“Yes, this instant!” exclaimed Benito, “or I will throw you overboard.”
Torres shrugged his shoulders.
“No threats,” he said; “they are of no use. It suits me also to land, and without delay. But you will remember me, Joam Garral. We shall not be long before we meet.”
“If it only depends on me,” answered Joam Garral, “we shall soon meet, and rather sooner, perhaps, than you will like. To-morrow I shall be with Judge Ribeiro, the first magistrate of the province, whom I have advised of my arrival at Manaos. If you dare, meet me there!”