One day, after Martin had spent many weeks in wandering alone through the forest, during the course of which he was sometimes tempted to despair of seeing the face of man again, he discovered a beaten track; at the sight of which his heart bounded with delight. It was a Saturday afternoon when he made this discovery, and he spent the Sabbath-day in rest beside it. For Martin had more than once called to remembrance the words which good Aunt Dorothy used to hear him repeat out of the Bible, “Remember the Sabbath-day, to keep it holy.” He had many long, earnest, and serious meditations in that silent forest, such as a youth would be very unlikely to have in almost any other circumstances, except, perhaps, on a sick-bed; and among other things he had been led to consider that if he made no difference between Saturday and Sunday, he must certainly be breaking that commandment; so he resolved thenceforth to rest on the Sabbath-day; and he found much benefit, both to mind and body, from this arrangement. During this particular Sabbath he rested beside the beaten track, and often did he walk up and down it a short way, wondering where it would lead him to; and several times he prayed that he might be led by it to the habitations of civilised men.
Next day after breakfast he prepared to set out; but now he was much perplexed as to which way he ought to go, for the track did not run in the direction in which he had been travelling, but at right angles to that way. While he still hesitated the sound of voices struck on his ear, and he almost fainted with excitement; for, besides the hope that he might now meet with friends, there was also the fear that those approaching might be enemies; and the sudden sound of the human voice, which he had not heard for so long, tended to create conflicting and almost overwhelming feelings in his breast. Hiding quickly behind a tree, he awaited the passing of the cavalcade; for the sounds of horses hoofs were now audible.
In a few minutes a string of laden mules approached, and then six horsemen appeared, whose bronzed olive complexions, straw-hats and ponchos, betokened them Brazilians. As they passed, Martin hailed them in an unsteady voice. They pulled up suddenly and drew pistols from their holsters; but on seeing only a fair youth armed with a bow, they replaced their weapons, and with a look of surprise rode up and assailed him with a volley of unintelligible Portuguese.
“Do any of you speak English?” inquired Martin, advancing.
One of the horsemen replied, “Yees, I spok one leet. Ver’ smoll. Where you be com?”
“I have escaped from the Indians who live in the mountains far away over yonder. I have been wandering now for many weeks in the forest and I wish to get to the sea-coast or to some town where I may get something to do, that I may be enabled to return home.”
“Ho!” said the horseman, gravely. “You com vid us. Ve go vid goods to de Diamond Mines. Git work dere, yees. Put you body on dat hoss.”
As the Brazilian spoke he pointed to a spare horse, which was led, along with several others, by a Negro. Thanking him for his politeness Martin seized the horse by the mane and vaulted into the saddle, if the rude contrivance on its back might be so designated.
The string of mules then moved on, and Martin rode with a light heart beside this obliging stranger, conversing with much animation.
In a very short time he learned, through the medium of his own bad Portuguese and the Brazilian’s worse English, that he was not more than a day’s ride from one of the diamond mines of that province of Brazil which is named Minas Geraes; that he was still many leagues distant from the sea; and that he would be sure to get work at the mines if he wished it for the chief overseer, the Baron Fagoni, was an amiable man and very fond of the English,—but he could not speak their language at all, and required an interpreter. “And,” said the Brazilian, with a look of great dignity, “I hab de honour for be de ’terpreter.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Martin, “then I am in good fortune, for I shall have a friend at court.”
The interpreter smiled slightly and bowed, after which they proceeded for some time in silence.
Next evening they arrived at the mines; and, after seeing to the comfort of his horse, and inquiring rather hastily as to the welfare of his family, the interpreter conducted Martin to the overseer’s house in order to introduce him.
The Baron Fagoni stood smoking in the doorway of his dwelling as they approached; and the first impression that Martin received of him was anything but agreeable.
He was a large, powerful man, with an enormous red beard and moustache, and a sombrero-like hat that concealed nearly the whole of his face. He seemed an irritable man, too; for he jerked his arms about and stamped in a violent manner as they drew near, and instead of waiting to receive them, he entered the house hastily and shut the door in their faces.
“The Baron would do well to take lessons in civility,” said Martin, colouring, as he turned to the interpreter.
“Ah, he be a leet pecoolair, sometime! Nev’r mind. Ve vill go to him.”
So saying, the interpreter opened the door and entered the hall where the overseer was seated at a desk, writing as if in violent haste.
Seeing that he did not mean to take notice of them, the interpreter spoke to him in Portuguese; but he was soon interrupted by a sharp reply, uttered in a harsh, grating voice, by the overseer, who did not look up or cease from his work.
Again the interpreter spoke as if in some surprise; but he was cut short by the overseer uttering, in a deep, stern voice, the single word.
“Obey.”
With a low bow the interpreter turned away, and taking Martin by the arm led him into an inner apartment, where, having securely fastened the window, he said to him, “De Baron say you be von blackguard tief; go bout contrie for steal diamonds. He make pris’ner ov you. Adios.”
So saying, the interpreter made his bow and retired, locking the door behind him and leaving Martin standing in the middle of the room staring before him in speechless amazement.
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