ice
was but as sheathed steel, whose eyes it was not comfortable to meet,
had set his hand to a plough that should drive a straight furrow, was
sending his will like an arrow to no uncertain mark. But what was the
mark the Franciscan could not discover, therefore he gave the truth or a
lie where seemed him best, increasingly the truth, as it increasingly
appeared that lies would not serve. He also, seeing that with gathering
years he had begun to set value upon flesh and bone, wished to please
his captor. He glanced stealthily at the scarred and ancient craft in
the windless harborage, idly flapping her mended sails, before he said
aught of the great English ships that in pomp and the fulness of pride
had entered these waters now months agone. The Englishman had heard of
this adventure--so much was evident--but details would seem to have
escaped him. He knew, however, that there had been first victory and
then defeat, and he too looked at his ship and at the guns she carried.

[Illustration: "THE FRIAR PRESENTED A BLANK COUNTENANCE TO SIR
MORTIMER'S QUERIES"]

"The town was sacked, but the castle not taken," he said. "What, good
brother, if I should break a lance in these same lists?"

"It would be broken indeed," said the friar, grimly. "An it please you,
I will bear your challenge to Don Juan de Mendez."

"To Don Luiz de Guardiola," said the man beneath the tree.

"Pardon, senor, but Juan de Mendez is at present Governor of Nueva
Cordoba. Don Luiz de Guardiola has been transferred to Panama."

The Englishman arose and looked out to sea, his hand above his eyes
because of the flash and sparkle of the sun upon the water. The
Franciscan, having told the truth, wondered forthwith if falsehood had
better served his turn. Face and form of his interlocutor were turned
from him, but he saw upon the hot, white sand the shadow of a twitching
hand. Moments passed before the shadow was still; then said the
Englishman, in a changed voice:

"Since you know of its governors, old and new, I judge you to be of
Nueva Cordoba. So you may inform me of certain matters."

"You mistake, senor, you mistake," began the Franciscan, somewhat
hastily. "The master of the bark will bear witness that I came to
Margarita upon the _Santa Maria_, sailing directly from Cartagena, but
that, being ill, I chose to recover myself at Pampatar before proceeding
(as you now behold me, valorous senor) to Hispaniola, and thence by the
first vessel home