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And always they spoke of him not only with respect but also with the discretion, Rodriguez thought, of men that spoke of one who might be behind them at that moment, and one who tolerated no trifling with his authority.
This man was a cleric, Juan Rodriguez de Fonseca, Archdeacon of Seville, a person of excellent family and doubtless of high piety, and of a surpassing shrewdness for this work. He was of a type very commonly produced in Spain at this period; a very able organiser, crafty and competent, but not altogether trustworthy on a point of honour.
And after a while Rodriguez' eyes turned again to the flowers, and he felt his meditation, as youth will, and looking abroad he saw the wonder of Spring calling forth the beauty of Spain, and he lifted up his head and his heart rejoiced with the anemones, as hearts at his age do: but Morano clung to his thought.
If you please, sir," I broke off, "you're not to tell anyone about this, whatever happens!" "Eh? Why not?" "Because " I hesitated. "Friend of yours?" "Not a friend, sir. He's a young man, in the Army; and his aunt she used to be very kind to me. I ran away at first because I was afraid: but they can't do anything to me, can they? I didn't find the the the Mr. Rodriguez, I mean until he was dead.
Yet he answered with the due ceremony that that age and land demanded: then they turned and rode together towards Lowlight. And first the young men told each other their names; and the stranger told how he dwelt with his mother and sister in the house that Rodriguez knew, and his name was Don Alderon of the Valley of Dawnlight.
Heart it had none, but he saw its cold steel core scheming methodical plans and dreaming always destruction. Before it faded men and their fields and their houses. Rodriguez saw the machine.
The full man was clad after a rich fancy and he held in his hand a brush and looked at us at first dreamily and then with keenness. He knew me, differently arrayed though I was, and looked from me to Don Enrique. "Master Manuel Rodriguez," said the latter, "I would stop for good talk and to admire the Queen's likeness, but duty calls me out of palace! Adios!"
They breakfasted hurriedly and Rodriguez rose to depart, feeling that he had taken hospitality that had not been offered. But against his departure was the barrier of all the politeness of Spain. The house was his, said his host, and even the small grove of ilices. If I told you half of the things that the reverend man said, you would say: "This writer is affected.
And for a moment Rodriguez feared that Morano would see those passes in which he trusted foiled by that unknown sword, and then he reflected that Morano knew nothing of the craft of the rapier, and with more content at that thought he parried thrusts that were strange to him.
And afterwards, all his years, whenever Rodriguez heard the name of Spain, spoken by loyal men, it was thus that he thought of it, as he saw it now. And here he used to walk with Serafina when she tended flowers in the cool of the morning or went at evening to water favourite blooms.
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