He stood by the sea
and the ripples broke at his feet, and he felt and knew the
Master of Life, there where feeling and knowing pass into
Being.
He walked a mile beside Ocean-Sea, then sat down beneath
ridged sand with the wind singing over. It sang, _Where now,
Jayme de Marchena--where now--where now_?
I sat still. Spain rose behind me, Spain and Europe.
Before me, out of sea, lifted the New Lands. There fell
a moment of great calm and quiet. Then, fleeting, like a
spirit, passed before me the Indian Guarin who had saved
me after La Navidad. I saw his dark eyes, then he went.
Still space without color or line or form, and outside, dreamily,
dreamily, the ocean sounding below La Rabida. Then, in
the clear field rose Bartolome de Las Casas. A quiet, singing
voice ran through Jayme de Marchena, and he knew that
he would return to Hispaniola and link his life with that
younger life which apparently had work to do in the Indies.
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, 1492 ***
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