e.

"Sir," said Manoel, whose voice trembled as he asked the question, "have
you received anything from Rio de Janeiro."

"No," answered the judge; "the order has not yet come to hand, but it
may at any moment."

"And the document?"

"Nothing yet!" exclaimed he. "Everything my imagination can suggest I
have tried, and no result."

"None?"

"Nevertheless, I distinctly see one word in the document--only one!"

"What is that--what is the word?"

"'Fly'!"

Manoel said nothing, but he pressed the hand which Jarriquez held out to
him, and returned to the jangada to wait for the moment of action.

CHAPTER XVII. THE LAST NIGHT

THE VISIT of Yaquita and her daughter had been like all such visits
during the few hours which each day the husband and wife spent together.
In the presence of the two beings whom Joam so dearly loved his
heart nearly failed him. But the husband--the father--retained his
self-command. It was he who comforted the two poor women and inspired
them with a little of the hope of which so little now remained to him.
They had come with the intention of cheering the prisoner. Alas! far
more than he they themselves were in want of cheering! But when they
found him still bearing himself unflinchingly in the midst of his
terrible trial, they recovered a little of their hope.

Once more had Joam spoken encouraging words to them. His indomitable
energy was due not only to the feeling of his innocence, but to his
faith in that God, a portion of whose justice yet dwells in the hearts
of men. No! Joam Dacosta would never lose his life for the crime of
Tijuco!

Hardly ever did he mention the document. Whether it were apocryphal or
no, whether it were in the handwriting of Torres or in that of the real
perpetrator of the crime, whether it contained or did not contain the
longed-for vindication, it was on no such doubtful hypothesis that Joam
Dacosta presumed to trust. No; he reckoned on a better argument in his
favor, and it was to his long life of toil and honor that he relegated
the task of pleading for him.

This evening, then, his wife and daughter, strengthened by the manly
words, which thrilled them to the core of their hearts, had left him
more confident than they had ever been since his arrest. For the last
time the prisoner had embraced them, and with redoubled tenderness. It
seemed as though the _denouement_ was nigh.

Joam Dacosta, after they had left, remained for some time perfectly