The Forbidden Kingdom by Jan Jacob Slauerhoff Read Free Book Online

have no need to combat any dangers of the kind he was used to. The voice of their old, unexpected host startled them. He was one of the first free-thinkers in Macao, one of the few Galicians to come out. The Procurador thanked him politely for his support when temporal power was forced to yield to ecclesiastical and expressed his regret that he could not stay longer. The litter and the horse pulled up outside. They continued on their way, both weighed down by the same concern and Campos by many others besides,envious of Ronquilho. Their tasks were very different. While Ronquilho was going to carry off a woman he loved, who might still hate him but would one day be his, he had to invest an enemy for whom he felt a deadly hatred with an office that would give him yet more power to realize his plans.

III
    T HE POPULATION OF MACAO was thronging the streets this lunchtime. There were Portuguese, Malays, Japanese women, black slaves, Chinese servants, soldiers and many monks. All gave way respectfully to the litter, taking off their hats, bowing or squatting by the side of the road, depending on their national custom. The Procurador scarcely saw them, and Ronquilho turned into a side street, while the other man went on brooding about Velho who wanted to do everything with money and persuasion, wanted to bribe the viceroy of Canton, bribe the pirates, unconcerned about their prestige, provided trade could continue uninterrupted. As if that trade could sustain itself unsupported! As if a strong, impregnable Macao would not have the highest trading value! He was alone at lunch and so sent for his daughter. She chose not to leave her room. She did not open up in response to his knocking, and the door remained bolted. He went into the garden, and her figure retreated from the window to the back of the room, so that he could just see her red dress and black faldetta.This reminded him of the procession, to which he, the Procurador, had to give way, while his daughter, before his very eyes, wiped the sweat from the face of one of the Dominicans dressed as Christ. That sweat was the only real thing about that hypocrite! He charged back upstairs and pounded on the door.
    “Pilar! Will you take off that fancy-dress costume and let your father in?”
    There was not a sound from inside.
    “Pilar! Are you my daughter or a bigot who consorts with priests?”
    Now there came faint silvery lute music, mocking his brash words.
    “If you don’t do as I say, I’ll have my soldiers break the door down!”
    The sound of the lute died away.
    “Wait a moment then, Father, until I’ve changed the dress that annoys you so much for another.”
    “I’ll wait.”
    A moment later the door opened, Campos forced his way in, went straight to the wash-basin and gasping for breath poured himself a glass of water. His daughter was sitting at the window in a simple house dress.
    “Who gave you permission to take part in processions? I’ve known for a long time that you don’t love your father, but I forbid you to consort in public with his enemies.”
    “I had a vision, Father. The Malacca fleet has been lost.”
    She did not mention that she had seen more: a man who swam away from a wreck and struggled to reach a black coast. She kept seeing one hand sticking out of the water, even during the intervals when his head disappeared in the waves, and in that hand he held a rod or a roll, she couldn’t tell which.
    “I don’t give any credence to your visions. I know only too well which greenhouse they were grown in. In a month’s time you’ll marry Ronquilho, and then they’ll dry up. You’ll hate me at first. Well, you hate me anyway, so that won’t change anything. But once you have children, you’ll be grateful to me.”
    For a moment Pilar felt as if she saw the coarse Ronquilho and the man she had glimpsed half in a dream fighting over her; then she looked at her father.
    “I’d like to have children. But I shall never allow my body to be used