Our wharf! Juan Lepe had left it something more than
a year and a half ago. San Domingo was grown, many
Spaniards having sailed for the west in that time. I saw
strangers and strangers, though of Spanish blood. Walking
with the officer and his people to the Governor's house
gave time for observation and swift thought. Throng was
forming. One had early cried from out it, "That's the
doctor, Juan Lepe! 'Tis the Admiral out there!" That
it was the Admiral seemed to spread. San Domingo buzzed
like the air about a hive the first spring day. Farther on,
out pushed a known voice. "Welcome, welcome, Doctor!"
I looked, and that was Sancho. Luis Torres was in Spain.
I had seen him in Cadiz. The crowd was thickening--
men came running--there was cry and query. Suddenly
rose a cheer. "The Admiral and the Adelantado in their
little ships!" At once came a counter-shout. "The Genoese!
The Traitors!"
I saw--I saw--I saw that there was some wisdom in
King Ferdinand!
The Governor's house that used to be the Viceroy's house.
State--state! They had cried out upon the Genoese's
keeping it--but Don Nicholas de Ovando kept more. While
we waited in the antechamber I saw, out of window and the
tail of my eye, files of soldiery go by. Ovando would not
have riot and disturbance if twenty Admirals hung in the
offing! He kept us waiting.
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