HESITATION
Manoel was in love with the sister of his friend Benito, and she was
in love with him. Each was sensible of the other’s worth, and each was
worthy of the other.
When he was no longer able to mistake the state of his feelings toward
Minha, Manoel had opened his heart to Benito.
“Manoel, my friend,” had immediately answered the enthusiastic young
fellow, “you could not do better than wish to marry my sister. Leave
it to me! I will commence by speaking to the mother, and I think I can
promise that you will not have to wait long for her consent.”
Half an hour afterward he had done so.
Benito had nothing to tell his mother which she did not know; Yaquita
had already divined the young people’s secret.
Before ten minutes had elapsed Benito was in the presence of Minha. They
had but to agree; there was no need for much eloquence. At the first
words the head of the gentle girl was laid on her brother’s shoulder,
and the confession, “I am so happy!” was whispered from her heart.
The answer almost came before the question; that was obvious. Benito did
not ask for more.
There could be little doubt as to Joam Garral’s consent. But if Yaquita
and her children did not at once speak to him about the marriage, it was
because they wished at the same time to touch on a question which might
be more difficult to solve. That question was, Where should the wedding
take place?
Where should it be celebrated? In the humble cottage which served for
the village church? Why not? 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.
Joam Garral would probably wish the marriage to take place at Iquitos,
with grand ceremonies and the attendance of the whole staff of the
fazenda, but if such was to be his idea he would have to withstand a
vigorous attack concerning it.
“Manoel,” Minha said to her betrothed, “if I was consulted in the matter
we should not be married here, but at Para. Madame Valdez is an invalid;
she cannot visit Iquitos, and I should not like to become her daughter
without knowing and being known by her. My mother agrees with me in
thinking so. We should like to persuade my father to take us to Belem.
Do you not think so?”
To this proposition Manoel had replied by pressing Minha’s hand. He also
had a great wish for his mother to be present at his marriage. Benito
had approved the scheme without hesitation, and it was only necessary to
persuade Joam Garral. And hence on this day the young men had gone out
hunting in the woods, so as to leave Yaquita alone with her husband.
In the afternoon these two were in the large room of the house. Joam
Garral, who had just come in, was half-reclining on a couch of plaited
bamboos, when Yaquita, a little anxious, came and seated herself beside
him.
To tell Joam of the feelings which Manoel entertained toward his
daughter was not what troubled her. The happiness of Minha could not
but be assured by the marriage, and Joam would be glad to welcome to his
arms the new son whose sterling qualities he recognized and appreciated.
But to persuade her husband to leave the fazenda Yaquita felt to be a
very serious matter.
In fact, since Joam Garral, then a young man, had arrived in the
country, he had never left it for a day. Though the sight of the Amazon,
with its waters gently flowing to the east, invited him to follow its
course; though Joam every year sent rafts of wood to Manaos, to Belem,
and the seacoast of Para; though he had seen each year Benito leave
after his holidays to return to his studies, yet the thought seemed
never to have occurred to him to go with him.
The products of the farm, of the forest, and of the fields, the fazender
sold on the spot. He had no wish, either with thought or look, to go
beyond the horizon which bounded his Eden.
From this it followed that for twenty-five years Joam Garral had never
crossed the Brazilian frontier, his wife and daughter had never set
foot on Brazilian soil. The longing to see something of that beautiful
country of which Benito was often talking was not wanting, nevertheless.
Two or three times Yaquita had sounded her husband in the matter. But
she had noticed that the thought of leaving the fazenda, if only for a
few weeks, brought an increase of sadness to his face. His eyes would
close, and in a tone of mild reproach he would answer:
“Why leave our home? Are we not comfortable here?”
And Yaquita, in the presence of the man whose active kindness and
unchangeable tenderness rendered her so happy, had not the courage to
persist.
This time, however, there was a serious reason to make it worth while.
The marriage of Minha afforded an excellent opportunity, it being so
natural for them to accompany her to Belem, where she was going to live
with her husband. She would there see and learn to love the mother
of Manoel Valdez. How could Joam Garral hesitate in the face of so
praiseworthy a desire? Why, on the other hand, did he not participate
in this desire to become acquainted with her who was to be the second
mother of his child?
Yaquita took her husband’s hand, and with that gentle voice which had
been to him all the music of his life:
“Joam,” she said, “I am going to talk to you about something which we
ardently wish, and which will make you as happy as we are.”
“What is it about, Yaquita?” asked Joam.
“Manoel loves your daughter, he is loved by her, and in this union they
will find the happiness----”
At the first words of Yaquita Joam Garral had risen, without being able
to control a sudden start. His eyes were immediately cast down, and he
seemed to designedly avoid the look of his wife.
“What is the matter with you?” asked she.
“Minha? To get married!” murmured Joam.
“My dear,” said Yaquita, feeling somewhat hurt, “have you any objection
to make to the marriage? Have you not for some time noticed the feelings
which Manoel has entertained toward our daughter?”
“Yes; and a year since----”
And Joam sat down without finishing his thoughts. By an effort of his
will he had again become master of himself. The unaccountable impression
which had been made upon him disappeared. Gradually his eyes returned to
meet those of Yaquita, and he remained thoughtfully looking at her.
Yaquita took his hand.
“Joam,” she said, “have I been deceived? Had you no idea that this
marriage would one day take place, and that it would give her every
chance of happiness?”
“Yes,” answered Joam. “All! Certainly. But, Yaquita, this wedding--this
wedding that we are both thinking of--when is it coming off? Shortly?”
“It will come off when you choose, Joam.”
“And it will take place here--at Iquitos?”
This question obliged Yaquita to enter on the other matter which she had
at heart. She did not do so, however, without some hesitation, which was
quite intelligible.
“Joam,” said she, after a moment’s silence, “listen to me. Regarding
this wedding, I have got a proposal which I hope you will approve of.
Two or three times during the last twenty years I have asked you to take
me and my daughter to the provinces of the Lower Amazon, and to Para,
where we have never been. The cares of the fazenda, the works which have
required your presence, have not allowed you to grant our request.
To absent yourself even for a few days would then have injured your
business. But now everything has been successful beyond your dreams, and
if the hour of repose has not yet come for you, you can at least for a
few weeks get away from your work.”
Joam Garral did not answer, but Yaquita felt his hand tremble in hers,
as though under the shock of some sorrowful recollection. At the same
time a half-smile came to her husband’s lips--a mute invitation for her
to finish what she had begun.
“Joam,” she continued, “here is an occasion which we shall never see
again in this life. Minha is going to be married away from us, and is
going to leave us! It is the first sorrow which our daughter has caused
us, and my heart quails when I think of the separation which is so near!
But I should be content if I could accompany her to Belem! Does it
not seem right to you, even in other respects that we should know her
husband’s mother, who is to replace me, and to whom we are about to
entrust her? Added to this, Minha does not wish to grieve Madame Valdez
by getting married at a distance from her. When we were married, Joam,
if your mother had been alive, would you not have liked her to be
present at your wedding?”
At these words of Yaquita Joam made a movement which he could not
repress.
“My dear,” continued Yaquita, “with Minha, with our two sons, Benito and
Manoel, with you, how I should like to see Brazil, and to journey down
this splendid river, even to the provinces on the seacoast through which
it runs! It seems to me that the separation would be so much less cruel!
As we came back we should revisit our daughter in her house with her
second mother. I would not think of her as gone I knew not where. I
would fancy myself much less a stranger to the doings of her life.”
This time Joam had fixed his eyes on his wife and looked at her for some
time without saying anything.
What ailed him? Why this hesitation to grant a request which was so just
in itself--to say “Yes,” when it would give such pleasure to all who
belonged to him? His business affairs could not afford a sufficient
reason. A few weeks of absence would not compromise matters to such a
degree. His manager would be able to take his place without any hitch in
the fazenda. And yet all this time he hesitated.
Yaquita had taken both her husband’s hands in hers, and pressed them
tenderly.
“Joam,” she said, “it is not a mere whim that I am asking you to grant.
No! For a long time I have thought over the proposition I have just
made to you; and if you consent, it will be the realization of my most
cherished desire. Our children know why I am now talking to you. Minha,
Benito, Manoel, all ask this favor, that we should accompany them. We
would all rather have the wedding at Belem than at Iquitos. It will be
better for your daughter, for her establishment, for the position which
she will take at Belem, that she should arrive with her people, and
appear less of a stranger in the town in which she will spend most of
her life.”
Joam Garral leaned on his elbows. For a moment he hid his face in his
hands, like a man who had to collect his thoughts before he made answer.
There was evidently some hesitation which he was anxious to overcome,
even some trouble which his wife felt but could not explain. A secret
battle was being fought under that thoughtful brow. Yaquita got anxious,
and almost reproached herself for raising the question. Anyhow, she was
resigned to what Joam should decide. If the expedition would cost
too much, she would silence her wishes; she would never more speak
of leaving the fazenda, and never ask the reason for the inexplicable
refusal.
Some minutes passed. Joam Garral rose. He went to the door, and did not
return. Then he seemed to give a last look on that glorious nature, on
that corner of the world where for twenty years of his life he had met
with all his happiness.
Then with slow steps he returned to his wife. His face bore a new
expression, that of a man who had taken a last decision, and with whom
irresolution had ceased.
“You are right,” he said, in a firm voice. “The journey is necessary.
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.
“Children! your father consents!” cried Yaquita. “We are going to
Belem!”
With a grave face, and without speaking a word, Joam Garral received the
congratulations of his son and the kisses of his daughter.
“And what date, father,” asked Benito, “have you fixed for the wedding?”
“Date?” answered Joam. “Date? We shall see. We will fix it at Belem.”
“I am so happy! I am so happy!” repeated Minha, as she had done on the
day when she had first known of Manoel’s request. “We shall now see the
Amazon in all its glory throughout its course through the provinces of
Brazil! Thanks, father!”
And the young enthusiast, whose imagination was already stirred,
continued to her brother and to Manoel:
“Let us be off to the library! Let us get hold of every book and every
map that we can find which will tell us anything about this magnificent
river system! Don’t let us travel like blind folks! I want to see
everything and know everything about this king of the rivers of the
earth!”