"And if at last--at last--I can,--I, whose anger was fierce, and whose wrath was cruel, even unto death,--is not that His own work in me?"
Juan half turned away, and did not answer immediately. In his heart many thoughts were struggling. Far, indeed, was he from praying for his brother's murderers; almost as far from wishing to do it. Rather would he invoke God's vengeance upon them. Had Gonsalvo, in the depths of his misery, remorse, and penitence, actually found something which Don Juan Alvarez still lacked? He said at last, with a humility new and strange to him,--
"My cousin, you are nearer heaven than I."
"As to time--yes," said Gonsalvo, with a faint smile. "Now farewell, cousin; and thank you."
"Can I do nothing more for you?"
"Yes; tell my sister that I know all. Now, God bless you, and deliver you from the evils that beset your path, and bring you and yours to some land where you may worship him in peace and safety."
And so the cousins parted, never to meet again upon earth.
XXXVI.
"The Horrible and Tremendous Spectacle."[#]
"All have passed:
The fearful, and the desperate, and the strong.
Some like the barque that rushes with the blast;
Some like the leaf borne tremblingly along;
And some like men who have but one more field
To fight, and then may slumber on their shield--
Therefore they arm in hope."--Hemans.