"Here it is as it truly is, and where we
truly are! We have oversailed all that the first show, and
so many leagues besides."
"Two records, true and untrue! Why do you do it so?"
"I have told them that after seven hundred leagues we
should find land. Add fifty more for our general imperfection.
But it may be wider than I think. We may not
come even to some fringing island in eight hundred leagues,
no, nor in more than that! If it be a thousand, if it be two
thousand, on I go! But after the seven hundred is passed,
it will be hard to keep them in hand. So, though we are
covering more, I let them think we are covering only this."
I could but laugh. Two reckonings! After all, he was
not Italian for nothing!
"The master knows," he said, "and also Diego de Arana.
But at least one other should know. Two might drown or
perish from sickness. I myself might fall sick and die,
though I will not believe it!" He paused a moment, then
said, looking directly at me, "I need one in whom I can
utterly confide. I should have had with me my brother
Bartholomew. But he is in England. A man going to seek
a Crown jewel for all men should have with him son or
brother. Diego de Arana is a kinsman of one whom I
love, and he partly believes. But Roderigo Sanchez and the
others believe hardly at all. There is Fray Ignatio.
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