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The governor sent Don Luis Navarrete Fajardo as bearer of this message, and a present of some gold and silver ornaments, swords, and valuable cloth for Taicosama. According to the custom of that kingdom, Don Luis was to make the present to Taico when he presented his embassy, for the Japanese are wont to give or receive embassies in no other manner.
Then he struck the top with his clenched fist, and when the Spaniards fixed their eyes on him, shouted in their language: "Yes, indeed, it was delightful in those days, Caballero Navarrete. Your uncle, the noble Conde in what's its name, that place in Castile, you know, and the Condesa and Condesilla. Splendid people!
No, Hans Eitelfritz, no! I am not jesting, I mean it. I am Navarrete! Nay more! If you keep your mouth shut, and the devil doesn't put his finger into the pie, I think, spite of all the Zorrillos, I shall be Eletto to-morrow. "You know the Spanish temper! The German Ulrich will be a very different person to them from the Castilian Navarrete. It is in your power to spoil my chance."
"Carmen!" exclaimed Ulrich, as soon as he saw the pretty little woman, then added confidently. "This young lady knows me." "I?" asked the young wife, turning up her pretty little nose, and looking at the tall youth's shabby costume. "Who are you?" "Master Moor's pupil, Ulrich Navarrete; don't you remember me?" "I? You must be mistaken!"
Half an hour before midnight Moor entered the calash, and Ulrich Navarrete mounted the white Andalusian. The artist, deeply agitated, had already taken leave of his protege in the studio, had given him a purse of gold for his travelling-expenses and any other wants, and told him that he would always find with him in Flanders a home, a father, love, and instruction in his art.
Where is she, where is her body?" The captain shrugged his shoulders, saying, in a soothing tone: "Calm yourself, Navarrete! We too grieve for the sibyl; many in the camp will miss her. As for Zorrillo, he had the password, and could go through the gate at any hour. The body is still lying in his quarters." "Indeed!" faltered the Eletto.
The whole body of the mutineers from Alost, wearing green branches in their helmets had arrived under command of their Eletto, Navarrete. Nearly three thousand in number, they rushed into the castle, having accomplished their march of twenty-four miles since three o'clock in the morning. They were received with open arms.
Some he had met before in various countries, and shook hands with them. Then he fixed his eyes on Ulrich, pondering where and under what standard he had seen this magnificent, fair-haired warrior. Navarrete recognizing the merry lansquenet, Hans Eitelfritz of Colln on the Spree, held out his hand, and cried in the Spanish language, which the lansquenet had also used: "You are Hans Eitelfritz!
They wrestled together to-day, and the master, in all friendship, struck His Majesty a blow with the maul-stick. . . . But for Heaven's sake! you will swear fool, that I am you will swear not to speak of it!" "Of course I will!" Kochel exclaimed with a loud laugh. "My hand upon it Navarrete. I'll keep silence, but you! Don't gossip about that! Not on any account!
He bore the standard of the proud "Castilian" regiment, and when strange troops met him as he entered a city, one man whispered to another: "That is Navarrete, who was in the van at every assault on Haarlem, who, when all fell back before Alkmaar, assailed the walls again, it was not his fault that they were forced to retreat....he turned the scale with his men on Mook-Heath....have you heard the story?
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