That day, I woke up before Diogo, which was rare. Not used to waiting for my playmate to wake up, I felt a bit bored. I was tempted to wake him up but it didn’t seem fair and I just looked out the window. I have to admit I was secretly hoping the light would put an end to Diogo’s sleeping. But I forgot about my friend as I contemplated the beauty of the estate, resplendent on that summer morning. How beautiful the trees looked! There had not been excessive heat that year, and the lands were well irrigated, so the flowers remained exuberant as if spring prolonged itself. And at that moment, they flaunted all their beauty just for me! I tried to reach the river with my eyes and although that was impossible I dare almost swear I could hear the water gently running. I just can’t say if I could really hear it or if my own desire made me think I did. I thought I heard a voice very far away but I didn’t instinctively listen and tried to hear what it was saying, until I felt a hand on my shoulder and realised the voice was right there by my side. It was Diogo, who was already up and telling me we should get dressed, for his Mother would soon come all us. «I’m going to talk to my Father about the liberals», I confessed, watching his expression. Diogo looked concerned but there was no disapproval in his eyes. I could almost say I saw approval. It’s funny how I remember Diogo in moments like that. Diogo was a child, a year older than me, he was a child in every way. He used to play with us and seemed to be as bored as Luz or me in the tedious world of the adults. However, his wisdom was not the wisdom of a child. «What do you think?», I asked, curious. «You think you won’t hit or rebuke you?» «I don’t think so... My Father never hit me and I don’t think he’ll rebuke me just for asking. Besides... I’m not afraid». «Well, it’s your decision, Sir».
Oh, how I felt exasperated that Diogo would insist on calling me “sir” and not listen to me when I told him not to! Diogo and I were like brothers. I loved him like a brother and I knew the feeling was mutual. We slept in the same room, played together and still he had to always see me as the boss’s son. One day, I was so angry that I threatened never to speak to him again if he did not put an end to that servile attitude. Diogo was deeply hurt and did not ask me to reconsider but kept treating me the way he always did. Half an hour later I had already forgotten about the whole thing, like any other child would have, and I was surprised to find Diogo sad and alone. «Diogo,» I said, «Luz has found a white bunny. Don’t you want to come see it?» «I thought you were mad at me». «Why would I be mad at you?» «You said you’d never speak to me again...» «Oh, is that it?», I interrupted. «Diogo, I didn’t mean to make you sad...» «You don’t understand. If I treated you like an equal, my Mother would have my hide! We’re servants and servants can’t treat their employers like friends. Your Father wouldn’t like it either». «But they wouldn’t need to know. It would be our secret. Yours, mine and Luz’s. Or we can also say nothing to Luz, if you prefer». «But that would be lying and don’t want to lie. I don’t want to deceive my Mother or your Father. Look, no matter how I call you, I do like you like a friend, maybe even a brother. If you can accept that, fine. If not, then maybe we shouldn’t be friends. I have a feeling it’s for things like those that D. José doesn’t like the liberals».
I felt somewhat confused. For me, it was fairly clear that if my Father didn’t like the liberals it could only be because they were bad people. But the reason Diogo was now mentioning was quite different. It was from that moment on that my curiosity about those men started growing and now I was finally determined to talk to my Father about that subject.
My Father was away. He had travelled to Oporto and he wasn’t supposed to be back for two weeks. But about three days after I confided my decision to Diogo, the carriage in which he had left approached the house and out of it came my Father.
«It looks like you’ll have your chance sooner than you expected».
Diogo was right. I wasn’t expecting my Father back so soon and I didn’t feel at all ready, but I also felt that if I didn’t do it know, I’d never have the courage to do it.
We had lunch in almost total silence, as usual. My Father wasn’t very good at communicating with children. But this time, the silence made me more anxious than it used to. My Father, however, did not notice, and my behaviour only seemed strange to him when my sister asked to be excused from the table and I remained there, not moving, with my eyes on the ground, unable to face him. «Pedro, what’s the matter?», he asked. «Why don’t you go play with your sister?» And seeing I wasn’t answering, «Did you do something wrong while I was away?» «No, Sir», I replied, not lifting my eyes. «What’s the matter, then?» I suddenly filled myself with courage and shot: «Father, why don’t you like the liberals?» My heart was jumping as hard as the tiny hearts of the sparrows and other frightened birds that Diogo, Maria da Luz and I used to chase. I was surprised at my own boldness. How had I dared to ask such a question? My Father was filled with surprise as he looked at me. I thought at the very least he’d send me to my room for the rest of the day as punishment, but things turned out quite differently. «Listen, Pedro», my Father said as he got up, «you’re still to young to understand such things, but I’m happy to see you showing an interest already. I don’t want to bother you with things you can’t understand yet. All you need to know is that I don’t like them because they’re rotten. When you grow up, you’ll understand why they are rotten and then you’ll be an absolutist, just like me». «And if I’m not?» My Father turned abruptly. I could see his face turn red with anger but the harshness in his expression gave way to a smile when he realised he was talking to his eight year old son. «I’m sure you will be. You wouldn’t want to betray the king, would you?» I felt confused. During his conversation with our former caretaker, my Father had plainly revealed his concern that the presence of King João VI might benefit the liberals. So if the king was a liberal, how would I be betraying him by being one myself?» «But Sir, isn’t the king a liberal?» «Heavens! Where do you hear such things? Never mind. His Majesty was just misled by those evildoers. But when he comes to his senses, he’ll realise it’s the absolutists he should trust.
For some reason, all that speech didn’t convince me. I even think that the more my Father denigrated the image of the liberals, the more I sympathized with them. If nothing else, to feel the thrill of standing up to D. José Ávila. When I left the dining room, Diogo and Luz were anxiously waiting for me. They examined me from head to toe and after making sure that there was nothing to suggest that my Father had been violent, Luz asked: «So? Did you talk about the liberals? What did he say?» «That they’re rotten». «That’s it?», asked Luz, feeling disappointed. «We already knew that». «He said that they’re traitors, that they’re betraying the king». «That’s not true!», exclaimed Diogo. Both Luz and I stared at our friend with the same kind of amazement with which my Father had looked at me when I asked him why he didn’t like the liberals. Diogo had never declared himself for or against the liberals. He had always tried to make us believe that he knew as little about the subject as we did and still, he categorically stated that they were not traitors. «Why do you say that? Do you like the liberals?» «Like them? No... I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know any liberals, just like you». «But you just said they’re not traitors», Maria da Luz objected. «Yes, but that doesn’t mean they’re good people. Anyway, saying that His Majesty allows himself to be surrounded by such a large number of traitors is an insult to his intelligence». Luz and I looked at each other, not really grasping the meaning of all that speech.
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