gue which bore off Joam Garral, or rather Joam
Dacosta--for it is more convenient that he should resume his real
name--disappeared, than Benito stepped up to Manoel.

"What is it you know?" he asked.

"I know that your father is innocent! Yes, innocent!" replied Manoel,
"and that he was sentenced to death twenty-three years ago for a crime
which he never committed!"

"He has told you all about it, Manoel?"

"All about it," replied the young man. "The noble fazender did not wish
that any part of his past life should be hidden from him who, when he
marries his daughter, is to be his second son."

"And the proof of his innocence my father can one day produce?"

"That proof, Benito, lies wholly in the twenty-three years of an
honorable and honored life, lies entirely in the bearing of Joam
Dacosta, who comes forward to say to justice, 'Here am I! I do not care
for this false existence any more. I do not care to hide under a name
which is not my true one! You have condemned an innocent man! Confess
your errors and set matters right.'"

"And when my father spoke like that, you did not hesitate for a moment
to believe him?"

"Not for an instant," replied Manoel.

The hands of the two young fellows closed in a long and cordial grasp.

Then Benito went up to Padre Passanha.

"Padre," he said, "take my mother and sister away to their rooms. Do not
leave them all day. No one here doubts my father's innocence--not one,
you know that! To-morrow my mother and I will seek out the chief of the
police. They will not refuse us permission to visit the prison. No! that
would be too cruel. We will see my father again, and decide what steps
shall be taken to procure his vindication."

Yaquita was almost helpless, but the brave woman, though nearly crushed
by this sudden blow, arose. With Yaquita Dacosta it was as with Yaquita
Garral. She had not a doubt as to the innocence of her husband. The
idea even never occurred to her that Joam Dacosta had been to blame in
marrying her under a name which was not his own. She only thought of the
life of happiness she had led with the noble man who had been injured so
unjustly. Yes! On the morrow she would go to the gate of the prison, and
never leave it until it was opened!

Padre Passanha took her and her daughter, who could not restrain her
tears, and the three entered the house.

The two young fellows found themselves alone.

"And now," said Benito, "I ought to know all that my fath