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Updated: May 16, 2025
Beltran de Cueva, a brilliant nobleman, was the favorite and influential person at the court at this time, and his gradual rise to favor had been due in no small measure to the protection of the new queen, who was Beltran's all but acknowledged mistress and took no pains to conceal the matter at any time.
In fact, a spy employed by Beltran reached the rendezvous, with intelligence that the Earl's intention to attack the caravan having been suspected, had caused the delay; but that, being aware that he was out of the way, its guards were preparing to hasten forward at dawn of day, confidently hoping to pass without being assailed, or to beat down any opposition that might be offered to its progress.
We had to cross a torrent upon a tree that falling had made from side to side a rounded bridge. Again that old hurt betrayed him. He slipped, would have fallen into the torrent below, but that I, turning, caught him and the Indian behind us helped. We managed across. "My ship," said Beltran, "is going to pieces on the rocks." The path became ladder steep.
Juan de la Cosa, the master, stood a keen man, thin as a string. Out of the crowd of mariners I pick Sancho and Beltran the cook, Ruiz the pilot, William the Irishman and Arthur the Englishman, and two or three others. And Luis Torres. The latter was a thinker, and a Jew in blood. He carried it in his face, considerably more markedly than I carried my grandmother Judith.
"I don't believe," urged Vivia, "but for exceptional abuses, there's a system providing for a happier peasantry on the face of the earth." "It can't be a good system that allows such abuses." "There are even abuses of the sacraments." "Pshaw, Vivia!" "Well, Ray, I don't believe in this pseudo-chivalry of yours, any more than Beltran does." "If Beltran said black was white, you'd think that true!"
He said something, and my arms were caught from behind and held. He faced Beltran seated against a pine. "Aiya!" he said. His voice was deep and harsh, and he made a gesture of repugnance. There was a powerfully made Indian beside him, and I saw the last gleam of the sun strike the long, sharp, stone knife. "Kill!" said the cacique.
But Beltran would tell you that you haven't got any country. You may love your native State. As for country, it's nothing but a what-you-may-call-it." "Very true. It is in observing the terms of that what-you-may-call-it, that federation, that bond, in mutual concessions, in fraternal remembrances, that we gain a country. And what a country!" "Yes, what a country, Vivia!
For, one day, the child in his troubled dreams had been found by Beltran with a white coil of fangs and venom for his pillow; and never since has Beltran taken his noontide siesta but Ray watches beside him till the thick brown lashes lift themselves once more.
Then Beltran bends and gathers from the lips the life that kindled his. With a despairing cry, Ray flings himself forward, and dead and living lie in Beltran's arms, while the strong convulsion of his heart rends up a hollow groan from its emptiness.
She took away her hand, and let the illumination fall full upon his face, a face haggard as a dead man's. "Ray," she said, "where is Beltran?" Only silence replied to her. He lay and stared up at her in a fixed and glassy glare. Breathless silence. Then Ray groaned, and turned his face to the wall. Vivia blew out the light. The weeks crept away with the setting-in of the frosts.
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