Evil in a Mask (44 page)

At long last, soon after midday on January 20th, they sighted land. Going down on their knees, they gave heartfelt thanks, then eagerly scanned the shore. For a while it appeared to be a solid mass of tall trees right down to the water's edge; but, as the
Nunez
came nearer in, they discerned a break in the forest, then a cluster of small, half-hidden buildings from which a score or more of boats were putting out.

As they approached, they separated, one or more making for each of the ships in the flotilla. Three came alongside
Nunez
. Two were canoes manned by Indians—small, copper-coloured men with lank black hair and painted faces. The third was a ketch, in the stern of which were three men wearing wide-brimmed hats of plaited straw, dirty cotton shirts, and leather breeches. One was a Portuguese, the other two were half-castes.

The Portuguese came aboard and announced himself as
Senhor
Pedro Sousa. He told them that the little township was Macoé, and that he ran a trading post there. When he learned that the flotilla was part of a large fleet in which the Prince Regent had sailed to take up permanent residence in Brazil, he expressed great delight; he regretfully shook his head when they expressed their eagerness to land. Macoé, he said, had no more than a dozen white inhabitants and, apart from primitive native huts, less than a score of buildings; so the accommodation there would be hopelessly inadequate to house the thousand or more people who had arrived in the convoy.

However, it transpired that Rio de Janeiro, for which the flotilla had been making, was only a hundred miles away to the south. Meanwhile, he promised to supply them with as much fresh fruit and vegetables and as many chickens and pigs
as his small community could furnish; then returned to his ketch to go ashore and put this matter in hand.

An hour or so later, the canoes began to come off again to the several ships, loaded with these supplies which were received with rapture by the voyagers who, for several weeks past, had been forced to exist on a minute ration of salt pork and weevilly biscuits. With the best will in the world, Sousa could send off only enough to provide very small portions per person; but, even so, they savoured every mouthful with extraordinary pleasure.

Sousa was a guest at this meagre but greatly-appreciated evening feast. Afterwards, Roger drew him aside and said, ‘
Senhor
, I have very urgent business in Rio which has already been too long delayed. At the moment the wind is not favourable to ships heading south; so, if you could sell me horses and a guide, I'd reach the city more swiftly by taking the coast road. How say you?'

The Portuguese hesitated. ‘I could fulfil your needs; but there are certain risks. The road is rough, and you might encounter hostile Indians.'

‘I'll take that risk,' Roger replied, ‘so, when you go ashore, I will go with you.'

He then wrote a brief note to Lisala, which read:
My love, do not be worried by my leaving the ship. I'll
see you in Rio
. Going below, he pushed it under her cabin door. An hour later, Sousa climbed down the rope ladder to his ketch. To the surprise of those who were seeing the Portuguese off, Roger followed him. Laughing up at them as he descended, he said:

‘I've stolen a march on you.
Senhor
Sousa has invited me to spend the night in his house; so I will be the first to see something of our new country.' A little envious, but admiring his initiative, they waved him away.

Sousa lived in a long, low, wooden building which was also his store, where he bartered gaudy trinkets with the Indians in exchange for rare woods, alligator skins and other commodities. When they reached it, one of the half-castes was called in and, over drinking horns of
maté
—which Roger found similar to rather nasty tea—a bargain was struck. For
two of his pieces of gold the half-caste and an Indian would convey him to Rio.

Soon after dawn the next morning they set out, the Indian riding a hundred yards ahead, to warn them of danger, and the half-caste with a lead mule loaded with a bivouac and provisions.

The road was no more than a track and, for the greater part of the way, ran through dense jungle. The trees were taller than any Roger had ever seen. Looped from their branches hung gigantic creepers; huge ferns and smaller trees bearing strange fruit grew so thickly in between that the sides of the track formed impenetrable walls of greenery. For long stretches the trees met overhead so that, in spite of the blazing sun above, the way was lit only by a mysterious twilight. The air was humid and, in spite of the shade, it soon became intensely hot.

Occasionally they forded shallow streams and after a while Roger suggested they should strip at one of them and refresh themselves with a dip. But his companion would not let him because, in addition to danger from alligators, there lived in them swarms of tiny piranha fish that would attack a man and tear every shred of flesh from his bones in a matter of minutes.

The silence, broken only now and then by the calling of a bird or rustle made by an animal in the undergrowth, was most oppressive. Once they saw a jaguar crouched on the branch of a tree; but the half-caste scared it off with a shot from his musket. From other trees twenty-foot-long pythons hung lazily, head down, and to pass them they put their horses into a gallop.

Strings of orchids dangled from roots in the forks of many of the trees; bright-plumaged macaws flapped squawking across the track; and huge butterflies flitted from bush to bush. But Roger, dripping with sweat as though he were in a Turkish bath, constantly tormented by mosquitoes and saddle-sore from moisture trickling down between his legs, was suffering far too much discomfort to enjoy these beauties of nature.

They halted to feed and bivouac on the edge of Indian villages in which the natives were semi-civilised and friendly.
Late in the afternoon of the second day, to Roger's intense relief, they rode into the outskirts of Rio. It was the 23rd January 1808, eight weeks to the day since he had, unexpectedly and most unwillingly, left Lisbon. Never in all his hazardous life had he experienced such prolonged misery. Owing to seasickness and lack of good food during the long voyage, he had lost both weight and vigour; his two-day ride had resulted in his face becoming swollen with insect bites, and he was suffering from sunburn on his hands and neck. But now, at last, he could hope for better times and a resumption of the delights that Lisala was so eager to give him.

His first impression of Rio was its staggering beauty. The broad estuary on the inner side of which it lay was so long that its discoverer, André Gonçalves, sailing up it on the first day of the year 1502, had christened it the
River of January.

The cloudless azure sky, reflected in the waters of its many bays, made them a heavenly blue. Slopes covered with the bright green of palms and other tropical vegetation rose from them. In places spurs of high land ran right down to the sea. The spurs led up to a panorama of lofty hills, beyond which were range after range of mountains, lavender-hued as they faded into the far distance.

But as they advanced into the city itself, Roger's elation at the sight of this beautiful setting swiftly evaporated. He had expected it to resemble a second-rate town in Spain or Portugal, with straggling suburbs of poor dwellings; but, as the capital of one of the greatest colonies in the world, to have a broad main street, a spacious, tree-shaded square and a few fine buildings in the centre. It had none of these things.

The only square, which gave on to a stony beach littered with wreckage and refuse, was of bare, hard-trodden earth, with not a tree upon it. The principal street was mean and narrow. The only building of any size was the Viceroy's Palace, a low, ugly block from which the white paint was peeling and with narrow, dirty windows. Near it was the Telles Arch, an evil-smelling passageway, in which a score of scrofulous beggars were lounging. The other streets leading from it were even meaner and no more than alleyways between rows of high
houses with greenish balconies and steep grey roofs. The only drainage consisted of gutters, cleansed from time to time by downpours of tropical rain; but, as the weather had been fine for the past week or so, they were now choked with garbage and excrement thrown out of the windows. The stench beggared description.

Roger's guide took him to the only inn. It was run by a Frenchman named Philippe, a robust and cheerful individual, who gave him a hearty welcome and showed him up to a passably well-furnished room. Already Roger had noted that the café on the ground floor was clean and bright, and was deeply thankful for having been brought to this little oasis of civilised living in a town of such unbelievable poverty and squalor.

Having thanked his guide and sent him and the Indian off with handsome
pourboires
, Roger ordered hot water to be brought up, so that he could have a most welcome bath, and sent for a barber to shave him. During the voyage he had grown a full beard. Now he had it shaved off, but retained his side-whiskers. It was weeks since he had looked in a mirror. On doing so it suddenly struck him that the reddish tint with which he had dyed his hair in Lisbon had grown out. But no-one aboard the
Nunez
appeared to have noticed that.

He then sought out the landlord, ordered the best bottle of wine available, and invited him to share it. Nothing loath, Philippe produced a dust-encrusted bottle of Madeira and took his guest into his own small parlour. When they had settled down, Roger asked:

‘Would you like to make a large sum of money?'

‘But naturally.' The Frenchman spread out his hands and grinned. ‘Providing,
Senhor
, that it is within the law. Even a week in the prison here is as good as a death sentence. Each newcomer picks up from some other prisoner typhus, smallpox or cholera, and the poor devils die like flies.'

‘No, it is nothing illegal. But I am in possession of a secret which could make you a rich man within a month. And I am prepared to disclose it to you if you can do me a service.'

‘Tell me your requirements,
Senhor
.'

‘They are quite simple. I intend to settle here, and I want
to lease a furnished house for not less than a year. I am aware that I cannot expect to acquire a handsome property in this miserable city. But it must be of a fair size, with, say, six or seven rooms and not in the town itself; somewhere on the outskirts with, preferably, a garden.'

‘That should not be difficult if you are prepared to pay a fair price for it.'

‘I am. But I want it tomorrow.'

‘Tomorrow!' The Frenchman raised his eyebrows. ‘That is another matter. It will take time to make enquiries. And the people here are beyond belief indolent. Any notary in Rio would take a month or more to draw up the contract.'

‘No doubt. That is why I am offering you a small fortune for getting me what I want. You have the morning to work in and, by mid-afternoon, the contract must have been drawn up and signed, so that I can take immediate possession. Otherwise the deal is off.'

Philippe considered for a moment, then he asked, ‘What guarantee have I that you are not making a fool of me?'

On the little finger of his left hand Roger was wearing a fine diamond ring. Drawing it off, he threw it across the table. ‘There is your guarantee. Should you fail, I will trust you to return it to me.'

Picking up the ring, the innkeeper made a little bow. ‘The moment I set eyes upon you.
Senhor
, I realised that you were an
hidalgo
; and there are few such in this filthy town in which fate has condemned me to make my living. Your haste in this matter puzzles me, as it will cost you much more than you would normally have to pay. But it is not for me to enquire why you are in such a hurry. You can rely on me to do my best for you.'

Roger had come from Lisbon with only the clothes he stood up in, so next morning he went out and bought a selection of poor-quality garments, which were the best he could find.

He then took a stroll round the town, and was more than ever appalled by the filth and destitution that he saw on all sides. It far exceeded the worst accounts he had had of the
place, by the telling of which he had endeavoured in vain to dissuade Lisala from leaving Lisbon for Brazil.

The only feature of the otherwise barren square was a rude fountain, round which was a crowd of Negro slaves, waiting their turn to fill pitchers they carried on their heads, as none of the houses had water laid on. Near the Viceregal Palace stood an ugly little church. On entering it he saw, in accordance with the dictates of religion, several corpses laid out. They were already blue and stinking, so another focus for disseminating disease; and he hurried out. He had already noted that everyone he passed was hung about with crucifixes and other sacred symbols, which indicated that the inhabitants of the place were under the thraldom of a dirty, ignorant priesthood.

At the sea end of the square there was a fish market: the stalls covered with filthy, ragged canvas which only partly kept off the myriads of flies. Further along stood the Arsenal and, anchored off it, were a number of fishing boats painted in brilliant colours; adding yet another touch to the beauty of the more distant scene. But by ten o'clock the sun was blazing down so fiercely that, his shirt sticking to him with perspiration, he went back to the inn.

At midday, Philippe returned to say he had found a house that might prove suitable, and they drove to it in a rickety carriage drawn by a starved-looking mule. The place was a rambling, two-storey building, standing in two acres of garden and woodland, on a slight eminence just outside the town. It was sparsely furnished and in bad repair; but its accommodation was ample for Roger's requirements and in front it had a long verandah, from which there was a splendid view of the lovely bay.

The owner was a childless widow who, Philippe had informed Roger on their way there, had been left badly off and was having difficulty in making both ends meet. She received them courteously and a Negress slave brought coffee for them. Evidently having seen in Philippe's approach that morning a probability that she might be able to dispose of her property for a good round sum, and settle permanently in more economical
quarters, she announced that, having thought matters over, she was averse to letting the house but was prepared to sell it; and named a figure.