"It is allowed by all, that he is a renegade; and doubtless, also, he has become a worshipper of false gods; for he who will turn his sword against his countrymen, is a rogue and a blasphemer—That is my opinion. Gil Ortaga said—"
"The fiend seize Ortaga, and thee into the bargain!" said Gaspar, angrily. "If a deer be wounded, and hide himself in a by-way, his fellows will not hunt after him, to gore him!—Why shouldst thou have less humanity than a deer?"
"Come, Gaspar, if I have offended thee, I ask thy pardon," said Bernal Diaz; "for thou art my townsman and friend, though we have quarrelled sometimes; and what I say, I say with a good meaning."
Gaspar looked over his shoulder, and finding that Najara had returned to the front, he grasped Bernal's hand, and said earnestly,
"Let there be ill will and ill words between us no more; for who knows what may come to us to-morrow? I know what is said of Juan Lerma. He is with the infidels—but what drove him among them? He is a renegade, too,—yet what made him so? He teaches the enemy to cut ditches and throw up ramparts, to lay ambushes and attack ships, and a thousand other feats and stratagems, not to be looked for among barbarians. This they say,—all say; and some swear they have seen him, in a Mexican cloak, fighting at the head of the pagans, and knew him by his stature and voice. Let us believe all this—What then? Bernal, it is a thought that preys upon me, remembering his honour, his goodness, and truth,—and this it is,—that a damnable malice has driven him, against his own will, into the den of perdition. Hark thee, here, in thine ear—Thou rememberest the expedition to the South Sea? Before that, thou knowest, I was in great favour with Cortes, whom I loved well, for he had done me many good deeds in Cuba. About that time, Juan Lerma lost favour, and no one knew why; for as to censuring the indignities offered to Montezuma, that was a crime committed by some hundreds besides, who were never punished. The cause, Bernal, the true cause,—I would I might tell thee the true cause: but I swore an oath never to breathe it to mortal man. But this I may speak, (and thou must afterwards forget it.) I see things more clearly than I did before; and methinks, this night, mine eyes are further opened. I see very well, that we are all deluded and abused, and Juan Lerma an innocent man. Hearken then to what I say. One night, Cortes came to me, looking more like a demon than a man, and he said to me, 'Gaspar Olea, thou must kill me a snake, that has stung me upon the breast.' And with that he told me a thing, which I cannot speak; but this followed—I agreed that I would kill Juan Lerma."
"Thou art beside thyself, Gaspar!" said Bernal, with the utmost astonishment.
"I had good reason given to me," continued Olea; "and at that time I had but little acquaintance with the young man, and no love; and I was bound very strongly to Cortes. Understand me, Bernal: I did not consent to play the part of an assassin, for that was no part for Gaspar Olea. But being convinced the thing was just, and that the young man was a knave deserving death, I agreed to exasperate him into a quarrel; wherein I appeased my conscience, by thinking of the risk I ran, he being reckoned very good at all weapons. But what dost thou think? The very next night comes me Cortes again, with quite another story. 'Gaspar,' said he, 'the thing I told thee was false, and I have done the young man a wrong. Wherefore, quarrel with him not, and forget what I have told thee;' adding many things which satisfied my mind, that the youth was an innocent man, very basely slandered. This caused me to think well of him; and I consented to go with him to the South Sea. There, Bernal, I learned to love him, for he was brave, and noble, and good;—ay, by my faith, I loved him better than ever I had loved the general. But 'What then?' you will say; 'Whereto tends this?' To this—and it is damnable to think upon: The General deceived me,—he repented having made me his confidant; but he still longed for the blood of Juan Lerma. Hence the South Sea scheme, devised for our destruction—(At this moment, I see it plainly,)—for Juan's, because of the General's hate, and for mine, Bernal, because he had confided to me a secret of which he was ashamed. Ay, by my faith! he repented him that passion had made him so indiscreet; and therefore designed to put me out of the way. The soldiers have a story that he was angry with me for some freedom of speech. This is false. He smiled on me to the last, and thus lulled my fears. Neither Juan nor myself had any suspicion of evil intentions. He made it appear, that the expedition was given to us, because of his regard for our courage; and he deigned to tell me in secret, that his chief reason for sending Lerma, was that he might be angered no longer by his censures,—Juan being then very melancholy and peevish, in consequence of the death of some old companion he had killed in Española. But, Bernal, he deceived us both, as I can now see clearly. He made it appear to the soldiers, that he was sorry to punish Juan—Nay some said he shed tears, among the Indians, when he signed the death-warrant. But this was hypocrisy. I know that he was rejoiced; for he remembered the old cause, and abhorred him."
"Marry," said Bernal Diaz, "it cannot be doubted he did. But the cause, Gaspar? I do not ask thee, what it was: but was it enough to excuse such rancour?"
"If true, yes," replied Gaspar, with deep emphasis: "But it was not true. Juan was innocent. I have probed his heart a thousand times, while we were in the desert together, and when he knew not what I was doing. He has not wronged Cortes—no, nor any other living creature. This I told the General, when we returned to Tezcuco, after the campaign round the lake. But what wouldst thou think? He averred that he had forgot the thing;—that it was very foolish;—a groundless slander brought against Juan by an enemy;—that he loved him as well as ever, and proceeded against him only on account of broken laws and decrees;—that he durst not pardon him, since his affection was well known, (his affection, Bernal!) and the men would cry out against his favouritism. I knew he spoke falsely, and so I told him. He hardened my heart; and then I ran to Villafana, who had the power to save him, and promised to make him our chief captain."
"Now that you speak of Villafana," said Bernal, "it reminds me of this: Why, had Juan Lerma been a man of honour and a Christian, should he have joined in the murderous plots of that detestable traitor?"