Luis and his beautiful wife had landed merely for exercise and relaxation, well knowing that the felucca possessed better accommodations than any hosteria of Palos; and they fell into the current of the walkers. Before them was a group of young matrons, who were conversing eagerly, and sufficiently loud to be overheard. Our hero and heroine instantly ceased their own discourse, when they found that the subject was the voyage to Cathay.
"This day," said one of the party, in a tone of authority, "did Don Christopher sail from Cadiz; the sovereigns deeming Palos too small a port for the equipment of so great an enterprise. You may depend on what I tell ye, good neighbors; my husband, as you all well know, holding an appointment in the admiral's own ship."
"You are to be envied, neighbor, that he is in so good repute with so great a man!"
"How could he be otherwise, seeing that he was with him before, when few had courage to be his companions, and was ever faithful to his orders. 'Monica'—nay, it was 'good Monica'—said the admiral to me, with his own mouth, 'thy Pepe is a true-hearted mariner, and hath conducted to my entire satisfaction. He shall be made the boatswain of my own carrack, and thou, and thy posterity, to the latest antiquity, may boast that you belong to so good a man.' These were his words; and what he said, he did—Pepe being now a boatswain. But the paters and aves that I said to reach this good fortune, would pave this beach!"
Luis now stepped forward and saluted the party, making curiosity to know the particulars of the first departure, his excuse. As he expected, Monica did not recognize him in his present rich attire, and she willingly related all she knew, and not a little more. The interview showed how completely this woman had passed from despair to exultation, reducing the general and more public change of sentiment, down to the individual example of a particular case.
"I have heard much of one Pinzon," added Luis, "who went forth as pilot of a caravel in the voyage; what hath become of him?"
"Señor, he is dead!" answered a dozen voices, Monica's, however, so far getting the ascendency, as to tell the story. "He was once a great man in this quarter; but now his name is lost, like his life. He was untrue, and died of grief, it is said, when he found the Niña lying in the river, when he expected to have had all the glory to himself."
Luis had been too much engrossed with his own feelings to have heard this news before, and he continued his walk, musing and sad.
"So much for unlawful hopes, and designs that God doth not favor!" he exclaimed, when they had walked a considerable distance. "Providence hath, I think, been of the admiral's side; and certainly, my love, it hath been of mine."
"This is Santa Clara," observed Mercedes. "Luis, I would enter, and return a thanksgiving at its altars for thy safety and return, and offer a prayer for the future success of Don Christopher."