"
"He is. It is his brother, Don Diego. He is a good
man, able, too, though not able like the Admiral. They
say the other brother, Bartholomew, who is in England or
in France, is almost as able. How dizzily turns the wheel
for some of us! Yesterday plain Diego and Bartholomew,
a would-be churchman and a shipmaster and chart-maker!
Now Don Diego--Don Bartholomew! And the two sons
watching us off from Cadiz! Pages both of them to the
Prince, and pictures to look at! `Father!' and `Noble
father! and `Forget not your health, who are our Dependance!' "
Waiting for all to start, I yet regarded that huge dazzle
upon the beach, so many landed, so many coming from
the ships, the ships themselves so great a drift of sea birds!
As for those dark folk--what should they think of all
these breakers-in from heaven? It seemed to me to-day
that despite their friendliness shown us here from the first,
despite the miracle and the fed eye and ear and the excitement,
they knew afar a pale Consternation.
At last, to drum and trumpet, we passed from shining
beach into green forest. I found myself for a moment beside
Diego Colon--not the Admiral's brother, but the young
Indian so named. Now he was Christian and clothed, and
truly the Haitiens stared at him hardly less than at the
Admiral. I greeted him and he me. He tried to speak in
Castilian but it was very hard for him, and in a moment we
slipped into Indian.
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