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AT FIVE O’CLOCK in the evening Fragoso was still there, and was asking himself if he would have to pass the night on the spot to satisfy the expectant crowd, when a stranger arrived in the square, and seeing all t his native gathering, advanced toward the inn.
For some minutes the stranger eyed Fragoso attentively with some circumspection. The examination was obviously satisfactory, for he entered the loja.
He was a man about thirty-five years of age. He was dressed in a somewhat elegant traveling costume, which added much to his personal appearance. But his strong black beard, which the scissors had not touched for some time, and his hair, a trifle long, imperiously required the good offices of a barber.
“Good-day, friend, good-day!” said he, lightly striking Fragoso on the shoulder.
Fragoso turned round when he heard the words pronounced in pure Brazilian, and not in the mixed idiom of the natives.
“A compatriot?” he asked, without stopping the twisting of the refractory mouth of a Mayouma head.
“Yes,” answered the stranger. “A compatriot who has need of your services.”
“To be sure! In a minute,” said Fragoso. “Wait till I have finished with this lady!”
And this was done in a couple of strokes with the curling-tongs.
Although he was the last comer, and had no right to the vacant place, he sat down on the stool without causing any expostulation on the part of the natives who lost a turn.
Fragoso put down the irons for the scissors, and, after the manner of his brethren, said:
“What can I do for you, sir?”
“Cut my beard and my hair,” answered the stranger.
“All right!” said Fragoso, inserting his comb into the mass of hair.
And then the scissors to do their work.
“And you come from far?” asked Fragoso, who could not work without a good deal to say.
“I have come from the neighborhood of Iquitos.”
“So have I!” exclaimed Fragoso. “I have come down the Amazon from Iquitos to Tabatinga. May I ask your name?”
“No objection at all,” replied the stranger. “My name is Torres.”
When the hair was cut in the latest style Fragoso began to thin his beard, but at this moment, as he was looking straight into his face, he stopped, then began again, and then:
“Eh! Mr. Torres,” said he; “I seem to know you. We must have seen each other somewhere?”
“I do not think so,” quickly answered Torres.
“I am always wrong!” replied Fragoso, and he hurried on to finish his task.
A moment after Torres continued the conversation which this question of Fragoso had interrupted, with:
“How did you come from Iquitos?”
“From Iquitos to Tabatinga?”
“Yes.”
“On board a raft, on which I was given a passage by a worther fazender who is going down the Amazon with his family.”
“A friend indeed!” replied Torres. “That is a chance, and if your fazender would take me——”
“Do you intend, then, to go down the river?”
“Precisely.”
“Into Para?”
“No, only to Manaos, where I have business.”
“Well, (...)
(......)
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