While the woman spoke, a small vessel entered the port, bringing an alcaide (municipal officer) and some alguazils (police officers). From them it was learned that a Franciscan father indeed had stolen Cunégonde's money and jewels. When he tried to sell some jewels, the jeweler recognized them as belonging to the Grand Inquisitor. Before he was hanged, the culprit confessed. The flight of Cunégonde and Candide was known to the town officials, who had then followed them to Cádiz and on to Buenos Aires. When the old woman learned that her companions were being sought by Spanish police, she consoled the young lady: she was not guilty of murder, and she now would be protected by His Lordship. The old woman sought out Candide and urged him to flee. So again the callow youth was to be parted from the incomparable Cunégonde. Where could he go?
We now learn that Candide had brought with him from Spain as his valet one Cacambo, a man of mixed blood and wide experience. In fact, he had been at various times a choirboy, sacristan, monk, merchant's agent, soldier, and lackey. He was loyal and devoted to Candide. When he learned of his master's plight, he quickly saddled the two Andalusian horses and urged Candide to run for it. Candide shed appropriate tears for Cunégonde, whom he had expected to marry immediately. But Cacambo urged him not to worry about her: women were never helpless; God looked after them. So Candide placed himself in the hands of his servant, who told him that, sent to fight the Jesuits, they would instead join the warring Fathers. The Jesuits, he was sure, would welcome a captain who could drill Bulgarian style, and Candide would prosper. The youth learned that Cacambo had been in Paraguay previously; he had been a servant in the College of the Assumption, and he was quite familiar with the Jesuits' government, which he described as most admirable; in truth he knew nothing so divine as the Fathers!
