Then no sail was seen on far Ocean-Sea; now out
there might be ships going from Cadiz, coming, returning
from San Domingo. Eight years, and so the world was
changed!
I thought, "In fifty years--in a hundred years--in two
hundred? What is coming up the long road?"
Ocean murmured, the tide was coming in. Juan Lepe
waited till the sands had narrowed, till the gray wave foamed
under his hand. Then he rose and walked slowly to La
Rabida.
After compline, talk; Fray Juan Perez, the good man,
comfortable in his great chair before the fire. He had hungered
always, I thought, for adventure and marvel. Here
it happened--? And here it happened--?
To-night we fell to talk of the Pinzons--Martin who
was dead, and Vicente who now was on Ocean-Sea, on a
voyage of his own--and of others who had sailed, and
what they found and where they were. We were at ease
about the Admiral. We had had letters.
He was in Granada, dressed again in crimson and gold,
towering again with his silver head, honored and praised.
When first he came into the Queen's presence she had
trembled a little and turned pale, and there was water in her
eyes. "Master Christopherus, forgive us! Whereupon,"
said the letter, "I wept with her."
Apparently all honors were back; he moved Admiral and
Viceroy. His brothers, his sons, all his house walked in a
spring sun.
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