Blimunda walked all night. She was anxious to be as far away as possible from Monte Junto before dawn, when the community would assemble for matins. Once they discovered that one of the friars was missing they would examine his cell and search the entire convent, the refectory, the chapter house, the library, and the kitchen garden, the abbot would come to the conclusion that he had fled, and there would be endless gossiping in corners, but if one of the friars had been taken into the missing friar's confidence, he would be anxious, perhaps envying the other's good fortune, for she must have been quite a wench to drive him to abandon his habit among the nettles, then the search would be extended beyond the convent walls, and it would probably be broad daylight before they found the corpse, I've had a narrow escape, the friar would think to himself, no longer feeling envious, for after all he is still in the grace of God.
When Blimunda arrived mid-morning at the river-bank at Pedrulhos, she decided to rest a while after her reckless journey. She had thrown away the friar's sandals lest the devil use them to have her exposed, and she had got rid of the clogs because they were beyond repair, now she plunged her legs into the cold water, taking care to examine her clothing for any bloodstains, such as this mark on her torn skirt. She ripped off any tatters and threw them away. Watching the water flow, she asked herself, What now. She had already washed the iron spike, and it was as if she were washing the missing hand of Baltasar, who was also missing, and wandering who knows where. She stepped out of the water, And now what, she asked herself once more. Then suddenly it dawned on her that Baltasar must be waiting for her in Mafra, and she felt certain that she would find him there, they had simply missed each other on the road, the machine had probably flown off on its own, whereupon Baltasar had come away, he must have forgotten to collect his knapsack and cloak before leaving, or perhaps he had panicked and fled, for every man is entitled to his own fears, and now he was probably wondering what he should do next, whether he should wait or set out at once, for that woman was capable of doing something foolish, ah, Blimunda.
Along the road approaching Mafra, Blimunda ran like one possessed, outwardly exhausted after two sleepless nights, inwardly glowing after two nights of battle, she catches up with and overtakes, the pilgrims who are on their way to attend the consecration, and they are coming so thick and fast that Mafra will soon be overcrowded. As far as the eye can reach there are flags and banners and milling crowds, until Sunday the work on the convent will be suspended, all that remains to be done is to put the finishing touches on the decorations. Blimunda heads for home, there stands the Viscounts' Palace, with soldiers from the royal guard on duty at the gates, and carriages and coaches lined up along the road, this is where the King has been lodged. She pushed the yard gate open and called out, Baltasar, but no one appeared. She sat down on the stone step, dejected and close to tears when it suddenly occurred to her that she would be unable to explain how Baltasar's cloak and knapsack came to be in her possession if she were to confess that she had gone to look for Baltasar without finding any trace of him. Barely able to stand up, she struggled as far as the hut and concealed them under a bundle of reeds. Now she could not muster enough strength to go back. She lay down in the manger, and since the body sometimes takes pity on the soul, she was soon fast asleep. Therefore she missed the arrival of the Patriarch from Lisbon, who rode in a truly magnificent coach, with four more coaches in the rear carrying his private retinue, and preceded by a mounted cross-bearer holding the patriarchal crucifix aloft, accompanied by the apparitor of the clergy, followed by the officers of the municipal council, who had set out to receive the King some considerable distance from the town, words cannot describe the splendour of this procession, which gladdened the hearts of the crowds who came to watch, Ines Antonia's eyes almost popped out of her head, Alvaro Diogo looked on gravely, as befitted a stonemason, as for Gabriel, the scoundrel was nowhere to be seen. Blimunda even missed the arrival of more than three hundred Franciscans from various provinces who had come out of obedience to attend the solemn act of consecration and to grace the proceedings, as it were, with their presence, had it been a congregation of Dominicans, one would have been missing. Blimunda was not there to see this parade of the triumphant militia as they marched past four-deep, they had come to make certain that the religious garrison was ready, the artillery range aimed at souls, the arsenal of altar breads, the storehouse of sacraments, the embroidered lettering of the banner,
Late that same afternoon, once the festivities had ended, Alvaro Diogo and his wife returned home, they did not go in through the yard and therefore did not discover Blimunda immediately, but when Ines Antonia went to gather in the hens that were still running loose, she found her sister-in-law, fast asleep but making wild gestures, which was not so surprising since she was murdering a Dominican in her sleep, although Ines Antonia could not be expected to know this. She went into the hut and shook Blimunda by the arm, but did not touch her with her foot, for Blimunda was not a stone to be kicked around, and Blimunda opened her eyes in terror and was baffled by her surroundings, for whereas there was nothing but darkness in her dream, here there was still twilight, and instead of the friar there was this woman, Who can she be, ah, it is Baltasar's sister, And where is Baltasar, asks Ines Antonia, the very same words Blimunda was asking to herself, what reply could she give, she struggled to her feet, aching in every limb, a friar had died one hundred times, only to resuscitate one hundred times, Baltasar cannot come just yet, and to say this is to say nothing, the question is not whether he can or cannot come, the question is that he is not coming because he is thinking of staying on as a farm steward in Turcifal, every explanation is valid as long as it is accepted, sometimes even indifference can be useful, as in the case of Ines Antonia, who feels little affection for her brother and, when she inquires about him, it is merely out of curiosity and little else.
During supper, Alvaro Diogo, after having expressed his surprise that Baltasar had not yet returned after three days, gave them a full account of those who had arrived or were expected to arrive for the consecration, the Queen and the Princess Dona Mariana Vitoria had remained in Belas, because there was no suitable accommodation in Mafra, and for the same reason the Infante Dom Francisco had gone to Ericeira, but what gives Alvaro Diogo the greatest satisfaction of all, in a manner of speaking, is that he should breathe the same air as the King, the Prince Dom Jose, and the Infante Dom Antonio, who are lodged immediately opposite in the Viscounts' Palace, as we sit down to supper, they sit down to supper, each family on its own side of the road, Say, neighbour, can you spare me some parsley. The Cardinals Cunha and Mota had already arrived and the Bishops of Leiria and Portalegre, of Para and Nanking, who are not there, but are here, and members of the court are arriving, and an endless train of nobles, God willing, Baltasar should be here on Sunday to attend the ceremony, Ines Antonia declared, as if she felt it was expected of her, He'll be here, murmured Blimunda.
That night she slept in the house. She forgot to eat her bread before getting up, and when she entered the kitchen she saw two diaphanous ghosts that were suddenly transformed into bundles of entrails and clusters of white bones, it was the nausea of life itself, and she felt like vomiting, she looked away in haste and began to chew her bread, whereupon Ines Antonia let out a roar of laughter, though without meaning to give offence, Don't tell me you're pregnant after all these years, innocent words that only intensified Blimunda's sorrow, Now not even if I wanted to be pregnant, she thought to herself, as she suppressed her inner cries of despair. This was the day on which they blessed the crosses, the paintings in the chapels, the vestments and other sacred objects pertaining to the sacraments, and then the convent and all the outbuildings. The crowds were kept at a distance, Blimunda did not even get around to leaving the house and had to be content with a glimpse of the King accompanied by the Prince and Infante getting into his coach, he was on the way to meet the Queen and the Princesses, and that night Alvaro Diogo described the spectacle as best he could.
At last the most glorious day of all arrived, the immortal date of the twenty-second of October in the year of grace seventeen hundred and thirty, when King Dom Joao V celebrates his forty-first birthday and attends the consecration of the most prodigious monument ever to have been built in Portugal, and only the short-sighted will argue that it is still unfinished. So many wonders defy description, Alvaro Diogo has not yet seen everything, and Ines Antonia became terribly confused, Blimunda accompanied them, because it would have looked bad to refuse, but she could not tell whether she was dreaming or awake. They set off at four o'clock in the morning to be sure of having a good view in the square, at five o'clock the troops assembled and torches were alight wherever one looked, then dawn began to break, a fine day, to be sure, for God looks after His estates, now the splendid patriarchal throne can be seen on the left-hand side of the portico, with matching chairs and canopy in crimson velvet trimmed with gold, and precious rugs on the floor, perfect in every detail and resting on a credence are the silver bowl and aspergillum along with all the other liturgical objects required for the service, the solemn procession has already formed and will circle the entire church, the King at its head, followed by the Infantes and nobility in order of rank and precedence, but the main protagonist is the Patriarch himself, who blesses the salt and the water, sprinkles holy water on the walls, though probably not enough, otherwise Alvaro Diogo would not fall from a height
