“No, I didn’t,” answered Diego, drawing back, “but indeed I am so rejoiced that I will shake hands with you heartily if you will promise we shall fight it out in all friendliness at the first chance.”
“That I will,” said Juan, more glad in truth of the good-will of Diego than of the discovery of land; for he had craved Diego’s liking as Diego, with all his self-confidence, would never have been able to suppose.
So they shook hands again, Juan laughing with joy and Diego presently hugging him in his excitement.
“To tell the truth,” said Diego, as they leaned over the rail together, “I think I have wanted to shake hands with you this many a day; but I was ashamed. And I was mad to think you had been more generous than I—for you were; that’s the truth. But my heart is set on fighting it out; for I think I am the master—in all friendliness you will understand—and that I should have had the best of it that day in the wood if we had fought it out.”
“That we shall see,” said Juan; “but anyhow we shall be friends, whoever is the master, shall we not?”
“Truly we shall.”
“And you will not despise me for having come from the jail?” asked Juan, trembling for the answer.
“Martin Alonzo says that it is not what you were, but what you are,” answered Diego.
“Thank you for saying so; and some day I will tell you my story, and you shall see that I was not so bad as you have thought, perhaps; though to be bad at all is too bad, as I very well know. But we won’t talk of that, now.”
“That’s as you please,” said Diego, who found himself interested even then, with land dimly visible over the rail; though perhaps it was because the land was there and not to be reached, that he was glad of something to talk of. “Tell me now, or tell me never.”