Montoro de Diego's report had gone before him. The good bishop Las Casas had long since sounded a trumpet for him. Montejo months ago had echoed the blast, and now Cortes, the conqueror of an Empire, and Father Olmedo, the wise missionary of Mexico, had made one of the bearers of their magnificent spoils to the King Charles also the bearer of his own praises.
A few weeks hence Montoro de Diego, with the trembling hand of the sweet-eyed, silver-haired mother, Rachel de Diego, clasped tightly within his own, once more entered the home of his ancestors, from which he had been driven in his helpless first weeks of infancy.
He had sought neither gold nor glory, but only to tread in the steps of Him who has said—'I will have mercy, and not sacrifice.' 'By this shall all men know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one to another.'
He had sown the seeds of mercy, uprightness, honour, and compassion; and even in those wild, wealth-clutching days he reaped men's honour and a golden harvest.
THE END.
[1] The wealthy class next in standing to the nobles.
[2] Robertson's 'America,' Bk. III. pp. 193, 194.
[3] 'Hist. Conquest of Mexico,' Prescott.
[4] 'Hist. Conquest of Mexico.'—Prescott.