THE CATASTROPHE
I was still intent on them when I heard hurried steps on the stairs. The bell rang, there were hand-claps, bangs on the gate and voices shouting. Everyone ran out, including myself.
It was a slave from Sancha’s house calling for me, ‘You go there … Master went swimming … Master dying.’
He said nothing more, or else I didn’t hear the rest. I got dressed, left a message for Capitu and ran to Flamengo.
On the way I guessed what had happened. Escobar had gone out swimming, as was his custom; despite the rough sea he had ventured out a little further than he normally did, had been swept away and drowned. The boats that went to his aid had difficulty in bringing back the corpse.