Plantation Boy - Menino de Engenho - Chapter 10

One afternoon a man on horseback came with a note for my grandfather from Colonel Anísio of Cana-Brava, warning us that António Silvino would be visiting us that night. Everybody was mightily afraid.

Just the mention of the bandit's name was enough to stop any conversation in its tracks. He was talked about in whispers, as if the words might be carried to him in the winds.

Only the children were excited. It was as if a king from one of our stories were coming to pay us a visit. Indeed, one of our favourite games was to play at being bandits, complete with wooden swords and sticks slung over our shoulders, the biggest and strongest boy playing the role of António Silvino.

That night he was going to be there in flesh and blood. My grandfather remained unperturbed. I rarely saw him ruffled. Old Sinházinha was bustling about, giving orders for dinner, shouting at the maids and the children with her usual arrogance. Aunt Maria stayed in her room, praying. She was very afraid of these people who lived from crime. When she saw me by her side she hugged me close, crying.  

However, there really wasn't any danger. Antonio Silvino was coming to pay a courtesy visit.   

A year before he had visited the town of Pilar with other intentions in mind. Colonel Napoleão had swindled him with a forged bank note. Unable to find the old colonel, the bandit had taken revenge by destroying his property, smashing up his shop, throwing everything into the street, and when there was nothing else to wreck he threw out the colonel's money box and told the people to help themselves.

But the bandit had no argument with my grandfather and that evening he was making his first visit.

Soon after night fall the bandits arrived at the main house, António Silvino in front, his twelve men riding behind. He strode up the path like a chief and gripped my grandfather's hand firmly, a smile on his mouth.

He was taken inside, but his gang remained outside in the yard. Only António Silvino was invited to share the intimacy of the household.

We children stared at our hero with a mixture of awe and fear; his enormous knife, the gold rings on his fingers, the medallion of precious stones that hung upon his chest. And he carried a small rifle at all times that dangled between his legs.

At dinner his gang came in and sat with us at the long table, Silvino at the head. None of his gang spoke, only the chief. He told stories of how the militia had tried to capture him, and other such stories full of bravado, thinking himself an amusing guest.

They went late in the night. In my eyes the bandit had lost some of his lustre. I had imagined him to be arrogant and impetuous, but his rambling conversation had stained his image.