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On 4 August 1805, João da Cruz sat down at the table. He looked sad and had no desire to eat lunch. João pointed to his throat: the food would not go down. He missed Mariana greatly and wanted to have her near him. João feared that he had lost her for a short time or for ever. He then recalled the shot he had fired at a muleteer. That crime left him indebted to the magistrate. Without that debt, he would not care whether Simão lived or died.
His sister-in-law Josefa suggested bringing Mariana home for a while. João refused: without her, Simão would die of grief in prison. He would go to Porto the next day, even if it cost money. He quoted the proverb: 'The rings may go, but the fingers remain.' In João's view, Mariana had chosen that path and would have to manage with less.
Planning the journey brightened João's face for a moment. After lunch, however, he became uneasy again. He wondered whether Mariana might be ill or dead. Josefa was alarmed and told him to get some air and work. In the workshop, João began making nails. He worked so distractedly that he damaged nails and struck his own fingers. At last, he drank straight from a pitcher. He wanted to drown the dark feeling that gripped his soul. With humour, the narrator compares him to a gentleman who drinks absinthe for love.
Soon afterwards, a traveller appeared on a strong mule. Despite the heat, he wore a large Spanish-style cloak. The rider confirmed João's identity and spoke of a debt. The man claimed that he had come to carry out his father's order. His father was Bento Machado, a muleteer from Garção. The rider was the son of that man, whom João had killed ten years earlier. The supposed debt was only a threat of revenge. The son pulled aside his cloak and shot João in the chest. João stepped back and cried, 'They have killed me! Mariana, I shall never see you again!' The killer fled quickly before anyone recognised him. João died with his face on the ground. Ten years earlier, he had fired from that spot into Bento Machado's chest.
Josefa ran over when she heard the shot, but she did not hear the last words. A surgeon in the crowd declared João dead. The reader knew the killer and his motive, but the witnesses did not. The Viseu authorities investigated but found no clue. The clerk responsible for estates listed the property and closed the house. The bells rang as João was buried.
The narrator then speaks directly to the dead João. 'You had violent instincts, but also nobility of soul,' he tells him. In that contradiction, he sees a possible sign of providence. If punishment and mercy exist, he will answer for the lives he took. Perhaps Mariana's tears will count in his favour before the Supreme Judge.
Josefa asked someone to write to Mariana about her father's death. For safety, she had the letter addressed to Simão. Mariana was in the prisoner's room when the letter arrived. Simão did not recognise the handwriting and saw the black seal. Mariana recognised the handwriting of Joaquim, the shopkeeper, and turned pale. She asked Simão to open it quickly and asked whether her father had died. Simão recalled that three days earlier Mariana had received a letter saying that João was well. Simão saw Aunt Josefa's name and read in silence. He then dropped the letter and sat down, overcome by grief. He said that they both loved João like children and should mourn him together. At last, Simão said, 'He is dead. He was killed.'
Mariana screamed and struck her face against the prison bars. Simão drew her to his chest with great tenderness. He said that Mariana was his support. Simão imagined that João would have asked his daughter to care for him. It was only a supposition; the true words had been different. He called her his dear sister and the friend of his soul. He asked her to overcome her grief for love of him. Mariana begged to be allowed to cry and feared that she might go mad again. Simão asked what would become of him without her. Who would bring a friendly word to him in exile? He believed that she loved him and would face any misfortune. 'Cry, my sister, cry; but keep looking at me through your tears!'