Every day, Martin Alonzo eagerly questioned him on his progress in knowledge of where gold was to be found, and as often would express his disappointment that there was nothing more definite to tell, saying that the admiral had as much knowledge of the matter as he had.
“Well,” said Diego, “and why should he not have?”
“Boy, boy,” said Martin Alonzo, one day, “I depend on you. I will not brook the authority of that upstart foreigner. I tell you I depend on you. Now ask, pry, discover.”
Then one day, after having had an interview with the admiral, he called Diego, and said, almost angrily:
“Here is more that you have not discovered for me that the admiral knows. Now that we have spent two weeks exploring and coasting this country of Cuba, some one tells him that on the island of Babeque, which lies to the northeast, there is plenty of gold and precious stones. What have you to say to that?”
Well, it was only natural that Diego, having been badgered so much, had exerted himself to learn something that was not known to anybody else, and he had supposed he had accomplished it, when Martin Alonzo came with this piece of news. At the first word, he fancied that he had been forestalled again; but when his cousin had concluded, he plucked up his spirits and answered:
“I have nothing to say to that; but I have something else to say, and that is that to the southeast, not far from here, there lies an island which the Indians call Bohio, though I think that is not its name, but only a sort of description. It is on this island, according to more than one, that gold is found, and that powerful and warlike people live.”
“Do you trust this report, Diego?” demanded Martin Alonzo, eagerly.
“I do, because I have questioned the men carefully. I have more faith in it than in the admiral’s Babeque, anyhow.”
“And it is to the southeast?”