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make it a command.
Eventually some nobodies came and carried off the mess in wide baskets
that they balanced on their heads, but the stink lingered.
    Da Gama, who might have helped, for some reason sat in the shadow of
a doorway, letting Pathan fend for himself. "He's had more luck so far than
I would've, Lucy," he explained when Lucinda questioned him. He seemed
amused by it all. Lucinda wondered if he'd been drinking.
    As for Geraldo, after his sleepless night, he had given orders not to be
disturbed until all was set, and napped in his room with the drapes closed.
    As noontime came, instead of being on her way, Lucinda found herself
arranging lunch for the travelers. Fortunately she stopped the servants before the platters of cold meats left the house, sending them back to the kitchen
where she had the ham and beef placed on separate plates, for the Hindi
Christians despite their conversion would not eat cow, and the Muslims
would not eat pig. The Portuguese, of course, ate anything.
    By the time the golden bell of Santa Catarina struck two, it seemed that all was prepared. She sent Helene to be sure everyone was gathered up
for travel, and then Lucinda took a moment for herself and hurried back
to her uncle's room. Before she turned the corner she heard shouting.

    She nearly ran into Geraldo being shoved by Tio Carlos's angry valet.
Despite Geraldo's size and strength, he seemed no match for the toothless
valet's righteous anger. "Adolfo," Lucinda said. "Explain this!"
    "He was trying to sneak into the master's bedroom, senhorita," Adolfo
said, giving Geraldo's chest another angry push.
    Geraldo, to Lucinda's surprise looked shocked, guilty even, not angry
or amused as she would have expected. "I only wanted to say goodbye," he
said, holding out his hands to her helplessly. "Who knows when I'll see Tio
Carlos again?"
    "He was up to no good," the valet insisted. "Look what I found on the
floor by his feet!" Adolfo cried, opening his fist below Geraldo's nose, and
then showing it to Lucinda: a tiny silver box.
    "My arsenico!" Lucinda said.
    "Poison!" Adolfo cried, waving the box. "Villainy!"
    "So now you accuse Senhorita Dasana?" Geraldo said, snatching the
box from the valet's palm. "You say my cousin poisoned our uncle?"
    Adolfo's mouth formed into a wide, toothless O. "That's not what I
meant! "
    "Come with me, Lucy," Geraldo said, taking her arm firmly and guiding her away. Over his shoulder he called, "I will send a very stern letter to
my uncle about this insult to his niece."
    "Come back," Adolfo wailed, waving an empty fist.
    "How old is that fool?" Geraldo said, his dark eyes burning.
    "He must be sixty, maybe seventy years old."
    "Well," Geraldo said with a sigh as if to calm himself. "Maybe that explains it."
    "He's been with Tio Carlos for ages. Don't be too harsh with him."
    "You're right, as usual, Lucy. I'll let it go this time." When he smiled, his
teeth gleamed in the sunlight like pearls. "Forgive my temper. I care about
you too much, I suppose." He pressed her arm gently, and handed her the
box of arsenico. "This is yours, I think. I'll meet you downstairs."
    As he strode off to his room, Lucinda tried to settle the jumble of her
thoughts. And while an older or a wiser woman might have wondered
about Geraldo and his sneaking, or the mysterious appearance of her silver box at Geraldo's feet, Lucinda's mind still reeled from the way he said he
cared about her. The way he called her Lucy echoed in her ears just as a
golden bell will vibrate softly for hours.

    At last all was ready. Lucinda was giving one last goodbye to Carvallo and
his wife when she heard Helene screaming in Hindi near one of the bullock
carts. A crowd formed, blocking her view, but she heard women's voices
calling each other terrible names. Da Gama waved for her to come over.
    There stood Helene, hands on hips and feet planted firmly on the
ground, pointing and shouting at someone Lucinda could not well