Later, Don Francisco having gone to bed, the young man
and I talked. I liked him extraordinarily. I was not far from
twice his age, as little man counts age. But he had soul and
mind, and while these count age it is not in the short, earthly
way. He asked me about the Indians, and again and again
we came back to that, pacing up and down in the moonlight
before the Spanish inn.
The next morning parting. They were going to Cordova,
I to the sea.
The doves flew over the cloister of La Rabida. The bells
rang; in the small white church sang the brothers, then
paced to their cells or away to their work among the vines.
Prior had a garden, small, with a tree in each corner, with
a stone bench in the sun and a stone bench in the shade,
and the doves walked here all day long. And here I found
the Adelantado with Fray Juan Perez.
The Admiral was well?
Aye, well, and next month would come to Seville. A new
Voyage.
We sat under the grape arbor and he told me much, the
Prior listening for the second time. The doves cooed and
whirred and walked in the sun and shadow. According to
Don Bartholomew, half in his pack was dark and half was
light.
Ovando? We heard again of all that. He was going
out, Don Nicholas de Ovando, with a great fleet.
The Adelantado possessed a deal of plain, strong sense.
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