"Señor, there hath been a rumor of that among the islands, but little will the Portuguese care for aught of that nature, when he deemeth his gold in danger. As I quitted Ferro, I spoke the caravels, and have good reason to think that rumor doth them no injustice."
"Did they seem warlike, and made they any pretensions to a right to interrupt our voyage?"
"To us they said naught of this sort, except to inquire, tauntingly, if the illustrious Don Christoval Colon, the great viceroy of the east, sailed on board us. As for preparation, Señor, they had many lombardas, and a multitude of men in breast-plates and casques. I doubt if soldiers are as numerous at the Azores, as when they sailed."
"Keep they close in with the island, or stretch they off to seaward?"
"Mostly the latter, Señor, standing far toward the west in the morning, and beating up toward the land as the day closeth. Take the word of an old pilot, Don Christopher, the mongrels are there for no good."
This was barely audible, for, by this time, the caravels had drifted past each other, and were soon altogether beyond the reach of the voice.
"Do you believe that the Castilian name standeth so low, Don Christopher," demanded Luis, "that these dogs of Portuguese dare do this wrong to the flag of the queen?"
"I dread naught from force, beyond detention and frauds, certainly; but these, to me, at this moment, would be little less painful than death. Most do I apprehend that these caravels, under the pretence of protecting the rights of Don John, are directed to follow us to Cathay, in which case we should have a disputed discovery, and divided honors. We must avoid the Portuguese, if possible; to effect which purpose, I intend to pass to the westward, without nearing the island of Ferro, any closer than may be rendered absolutely indispensable."
Notwithstanding a burning impatience now beset the admiral, and most with him, the elements seemed opposed to his passage from among the Canaries, into the open ocean. The wind gradually failed, until it became so calm that the sails were hauled up, and the three vessels lay, now laying their sides with the brine, and now rising to the summit of the ground-swell, resembling huge animals that were lazily reposing, under the heats of summer, in drowsy indolence.
Many was the secret pater, or ave, that was mumbled by the mariners, and not a few vows of future prayers were made, in the hope of obtaining a breeze. Occasionally it seemed as if Providence listened to these petitions, for the air would fan the cheek, and the sails would fall, in the vain expectation of getting ahead; but disappointment as often followed, until all on board felt that they were fated to linger under the visitations of a calm. Just at nightfall, however, a light air arose, and, for a few hours, the wash of the parted waters was audible under the bows of the vessels, though their way was barely sufficient to keep them under the command of their helms. About midnight, however, even this scarcely perceptible motion was lost, and the craft were again lazily wallowing in the ground-swells that the gales had sent in from the vast expanse of the Western Ocean.