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At seven in the evening, the monarch of Calvos's soirée brought together Viscount Nunes, his private secretary and brigadier of infantry, and the abbot, chaplain-major to the supposed king. With them stood two rectors promoted to canons and the former sergeant-major of Rio Caldo, now captain-major of Lanhoso by the grace of that court. They all remained standing, resisting permission to sit as though refusal lent greater splendour to their obedience. The prince's leather chair stood against the clock, while the central table supported papers, a lead inkwell and three legitimist publications. They were the Novo Príncipe by Gama e Castro, the Besta Esfolada and the Punhal dos Corcundas by Bishop Frei Fortunato. On the maize bins lay half an alqueire of white beans destined for tripe and two empty sacks that Senhorinha would fill with grain after the royal withdrawal. A curled-up cat grumbled on one of those sacks. Among beans and sacks, that majesty awaited the man bringing Vasco da Cerveira's actual letter.
At eight o'clock the visitors were announced, and Cristóvão Bezerra, Baron of Bouro only within the charade, entered first with measured steps and chest held high. A black padded cravat stiffened with wire held his neck rigid and pinched his earlobes. He wore square gold spectacles and a grey goatee, with the rest of his face clean-shaven. His new fine-wool coat had long tails and prominent hips, as fashion required. From the waistband of his yellow trousers hung armorial trinkets, a medal of Dom Miguel aged twenty-two and a coin bearing the same likeness. Between the lapels of his orange waistcoat he wore a miniature enamelled dagger, the conventional emblem of the Knights of Saint Michael of the Wing. The patriotic piece had come from the hands of the goldsmith Novais, father of the poet Faustino.
Behind him came Zeferino das Lamelas, pale with embarrassment, almost in a spasm and feeling his knees give way. He wore a blue cloth jacket with yellow buttons and white trousers stretched at the knees by rubbing against the pack-saddle. The trouser legs reached only halfway down his boots, which, judging by the size of his feet, seemed stolen from a giant.
Bezerra bent one knee and bowed his body towards the hand that His Majesty kept out of reach. Behind him, Zeferino dropped onto both knees, striking his kneecaps against the floorboards. Before the baron could speak, Veríssimo noticed the mason and told him to rise, since this was not a chapel. Zeferino persisted because that posture seemed safe and spared him from discovering another. Torcato Nunes repeated that His Majesty ordered him to stand. The man rose and, in a silent rush, advanced with the letter towards the occupant of the chair. The chaplain-major stopped him with the ceremonial rule that letters were handed to the secretary.
Cristóvão Bezerra explained that he had accompanied that honourable legitimist because the man dared not enter the presence of his king and master alone. He said that Zeferino was the son of the brave ensign Gaspar das Lamelas. According to Bezerra, Gaspar had led three hundred men in 1838 and attacked Santo Tirso amid cheers for Dom Miguel. He also related that Gaspar had swum across the Ave in January with his sword between his teeth. The exploit had left him paralysed, and he had never risen again.
The borrowed monarch appeared moved and confessed that he had known nothing of so remarkable an attack, having been in Rome without news. When the worthy hero's name escaped him, Zeferino informed His Majesty that his father was called Gaspar Ferreira. Veríssimo ordered the viscount to enter him on the list. Nunes sat at the table, asked leave and prepared to record the favour that had no legal force. The royal dictation called him 'Gaspar Ferreiro' and retired him as an infantry colonel with pay dating from 1838. 'Battle of Santo Tirso' was to be written in the margin. Turning to Zeferino, who was edging towards the wall, the false sovereign told him to carry news of the retirement to his father. He also promised him seven years of back pay, fabricating rank and arrears in a sentence.
Zeferino opened his mouth, but the represented king was already asking for the letter from his old friend Teixeira. Nunes corrected him submissively: it was Cerveira, Cerveira Lobo. 'Ah yes, Cerveira Lobo,' Veríssimo amended, recovering the memory required by his role. He then opened the letter Zeferino had just brought, read it to himself and passed it to the secretary. Exultant, he called Cerveira a rare friend and one of the cause's finest supports, declaring victory certain with such devoted men. To elevate the performance, he invoked the great Camões. 'And tell me which is more excellent: to be king of the world, or king of such people.' In the shadows beside the bins, one rector stared at the other in astonishment. His companion whispered that the man had studied like the Devil and even knew Latin. The quotation served as proof of royalty despite the recent substitution of Teixeira for Cerveira.
Veríssimo announced that he would answer his noble friend in his own hand, for Cerveira was worthy of that and even greater consideration. He then ordered Nunes to record Vasco da Cerveira Lobo as a cavalry general and Count of Quadros. The commissions existed only on paper, as part of the fraud.
From an old cardboard folder, the false king took a sheet of paper and sat down to write, allowing the others to converse. The abbot, acting as chaplain-major, seized the opportunity to serve Douro wine, pastries from Guimarães, convent biscuits from Remédios and little cakes. Heavy jaws chewed the fresh toasted cakes, which crunched beneath voluptuous bites. The court divided into two groups while the royal pen prepared its answer to Cerveira.
The sergeant-major of Rio Caldo began recounting hunts in Gerês, accompanying his swagger with emphatic imitations and sweeping gestures. A wild boar had come straight at him, tearing through scrub and snapping broom stems as thick as his thigh, which he displayed to his listeners. The beast had grazed his dog Ligeira, which attacked it by the ear, and crippled her for life. He had fallen to the left, climbed onto the rock at Portela and waited for the animal in the clearing. As soon as the boar appeared, he went 'bang' and lodged three buckshot pellets in its haunch. Bezerra feared that so much conversation might disturb the king. Veríssimo replied that they might talk freely, since they did not disturb him.
One canon, deeply moved, murmured to his neighbour that this was what he called a mind. Conversation spread, and the brief, solemn toasts indicated His Majesty only by a respectful movement of the eyes. 'Down it, down it,' the canons urged one another over the wine. The Lord Prior of Guimarães reminded the baron that there were two priests named Marcos, both priors of Guimarães. The legitimate one, meaning Marcos Rebelo of São Gens de Calvos, merely called the other a mighty drunkard.
As the priests grew louder in words and sarcasm against their namesake, Nunes laughed maliciously. Then he bent over the temporary king's shoulder and whispered that he should press Cerveira harder. Veríssimo hesitated, and Nunes quietly asked how much he intended to request. The first number murmured was two. Nunes imposed three, repeated the figure and ordered him to proceed. When Veríssimo feared that it was too much, Nunes replied that he took responsibility for the three and that it was clean business. The whisper neither stated the unit nor received any payment, revealing only that Nunes was increasing the demand.
Aloud, Nunes asked the company on the king's behalf whether the Count of Quadros had a wife and children. Bezerra relayed the question to Zeferino, who was by then growing bolder. Zeferino replied that Cerveira had two sons and three daughters, one of them already married. He added that the gentleman's wife had fled years earlier with the doctor from Pombais and never returned. The chaplain-major lamented the misfortunes and corruption of the times, fearing that there would soon be no remedy unless someone intervened quickly. A sorrowful silence followed over the domestic misfortune they had converted into useful information.
Meanwhile, Veríssimo wrote slowly, polishing phrases and rounding out periods. He struggled to compete with the rounded and lavishly adjectival turns of Father Rocha's rhetoric. He was comforted, however, by Dom Miguel's lack of a reputation for learning. A few grammatical deformities would make the forgery more plausible. He reread the text, added a few commas and asked Nunes for a wafer seal. The abbot hurried over with a large square red wafer, carefully cut. Since envelopes had not yet reached Lanhoso, His Majesty folded the sheet into four. On the wrapper he wrote: 'To the Count of Quadros, General of the Royal Army.'
At that moment, Bezerra drew Nunes aside, spoke to him privately and allowed only the phrase about His Majesty's pleasure to be heard. With satisfied condescension, Nunes promised to speak to the king. He approached Veríssimo with arms hanging, feet together and body slightly bowed, and spoke quietly to him. The monarch answered only that he agreed. Nunes informed the baron that the request had been granted and went to the book of favours. Aloud, he recorded that His Majesty appointed Zeferino Ferreira sergeant-major of Lamelas for the services of his father, Colonel Gaspar Ferreira. Bezerra told the new sergeant-major to thank the king, and the mason knelt again, now wishing to kiss Veríssimo's boots.
The represented prince called him friend and ordered him to rise. He handed him the reply to his friend Cerveira Lobo's letter and demanded that no one see the wrapper. He repeated that Zeferino must take care and let no one learn to whom the letter was addressed. He commended the sergeant-major to God and said he would be pleased to receive him with another letter from the honourable Cerveira until he could embrace him in person. The court withdrew backwards, bumping into one another so as not to turn their backs on majesty.
The maid promptly appeared, flushed and breathless, to lay the table and announce that supper was ready. The chicken with rice would not wait and had to be eaten as soon as it was cooked. Nunes stayed for supper, as he always did with the king and the abbot.
Zeferino had his mare with him, knew the road and declined to spend the night in Santa Marta de Bouro. There was moonlight, and a group of pilgrims was setting out for Bom Jesus do Monte. He rode towards Braga and, on the following afternoon, galloped into the echoing courtyard of the house at Quadros. His face burned with a congestion of joy, but Cerveira was taking his afternoon nap.
A tenant farmer informed him that the gentleman had got powerfully drunk that day, ripe as a bunch of grapes. According to the tenant, he had ordered Senhor Egas's chestnut filly saddled and fitted with pistol holsters. He had mounted with his sword drawn and set off galloping beneath the vine arbours while shouting. The man had expected to see the Devil carry him into a stone post and knock him from his mount. Egas and Heitor had finally managed to get him down and put him to bed.
Uncle Manuel allowed that a man might get plastered now and then, but thought it very ugly to become drunk every day. He complained that no one could reason with Cerveira afterwards and that the master prospered on the sweat of the poor. He called him a miser and consigned him to the Devil, declaring that he cared little if he were dismissed. Cerveira was incapable of forgiving a tenant farmer a single alqueire of maize. According to Manuel, he had an income of twenty thousand cruzados and did not spend even five. His sons sold scrub and pine trees while their father gave them only twenty pintos a month to support their mistresses. The tenant supposed that the gentleman had a great hoard of gold coins buried somewhere. He predicted that José Pequeno of Lixa would one day enter the house and put a knife to his chest until the money appeared.
Cerveira wanted to buy more land and had recently offered six contos for Lopes de Requião's estate. He kept six contos in his drawer, Manuel continued, yet had not given five réis to his daughter Teresinha when she married the student from Quintãs. The young woman went about in clogs, without stockings, doing the kitchen work. The other two daughters, he said contemptuously, looked to him like disreputable fado singers at the pilgrimages. He claimed that at night engineers and contractors could be seen climbing the walls to meet them in the hayloft.
Contemptuously, he called it the shame of shames. Stamping his foot on the grass, Manuel swore that if he had such daughters he would crush them as one crushes a mole. Twice he invoked God's protection against drunkards. Then he reminded Zeferino that he too must endure a great deal at home because Gaspar drank heavily. He attributed Gaspar's paralysis during the Christmas attack on Santo Tirso to the half almude of wine he had in his belly.
Zeferino, now a sergeant-major only in the fraud's imagination, cut in that it had not been quite like that. He did not deny that his father had had some wine in his head, but Manuel would not have been capable of his exploit. Manuel agreed cheerfully, for he had reached fifty without ever getting drunk. If he ever did get drunk, he admitted, he would go to sleep rather than throw himself into the Ave in December. He sent the cheers for Dom Miguel to the Devil and asserted that the king would care as much for Gaspar as for a dung heap on the ground. Gaspar ought to preserve his fields and imitate his son, who had become a mason when the constitutionalists took possession of the land. Zeferino now possessed his couple of thousand cruzados through the sweat of his brow. Manuel had even heard that he was offering fifteen hundred to the man from Prazins in order to marry the girl. He asked him bluntly whether it was true or not.
Irritated and disdainful, Zeferino replied that it was over. He no longer wanted Marta even with a dowry of three contos, he declared, nor even with six. Manuel did not know who he was, but would soon find out, and no one would have to live long to see it. The tenant thought Zeferino merely wished to be recognised as an able and honourable man, which he already granted him. Zeferino insisted that he meant something else, but Manuel could not grasp the new greatness that he himself could not yet reveal.
Hearing a window open, he announced that the gentleman was awake and moved away to take him the letter. As he went, he muttered that the fellow was a fine clodhopper indeed. A man had just spoken with the king only to encounter a blockhead like that, he complained. 'Common rabble,' concluded the imaginary sergeant-major before entering the house at Quadros.