More than once, he considered simply taking him back to the house; he also kept him carefully wrapped up, kissing him and covering his face to protect him from the damp night air. As he entered Rua da Guarda Velha, Cândido Neves slowed his pace.

“I’ll delay handing him over for as long as possible,” he murmured.

However, since the street was not infinite in length, he would soon reach the end; it was then that it occurred to him to go down one of the alleyways connecting that street to Rua da Ajuda. He reached the bottom of the alleyway and was about to turn right, in the direction of Largo da Ajuda, when, on the opposite side, he saw a woman: the runaway slave. I will not even attempt to describe Cândido Neves’s emotions, because I could not do so with the necessary intensity. One adjective will have to suffice; let’s say “overwhelming.” The woman walked down the street, and he followed; the pharmacy we mentioned earlier was only a few steps away. He went in, spoke to the pharmacist, and asked if he would be so kind as to look after the baby for a moment; he would return soon.

“Yes, but—”

Cândido Neves did not give him time to say anything more; he left at once, crossed the street, and continued on to a point where he could arrest the woman without making too much of a scene. At the end of the street, when she was about to head off down Rua de São José, Cândido Neves drew nearer. Yes, it was definitely her, the fugitive mulatta.

“Arminda,” he called, for that was the name given in the advertisement.

Arminda innocently turned around, and it was only when he removed the length of rope from his pocket and grabbed her arms that she realized what was happening and tried to flee. By then it was too late. With his strong hands, Cândido Neves had bound her wrists together and was ordering her to walk. She tried to scream, and she did perhaps call out more loudly than usual, but saw at once that no one would come to free her; on the contrary. She then begged him, for the love of God, to let her go.

“I’m pregnant, sir!” she cried. “If you yourself have a child, I beg you for the love of that child to let me go. I’ll be your slave and serve you for as long as you like. Please, sir, let me go!”

“Walk on!” repeated Cândido Neves.

“Let me go!”

“Look, I don’t have time for this. Walk on!”