University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.
NICUESA—NEW OFFERS—THE PREDICTION.

“I was about to have sought you, my dear Vasco, at
your bohio,” was the familiar and somewhat affectionate
speech of the cavalier, whose fortunate appearance at the
very moment so perilous to Garabito, in all probability
saved his life. “I was about to have sought you on matters
of much moment to myself, and thank the fortune that
helped me to this meeting by the way. Go you to the
Plaza?”

He was answered in the affirmative.

Diego di Nicuesa—for it was he—was an accomplished
gentleman: something more of a cavalier than soldier:
who had filled several posts of honour in Spain, and having
the advantage of noble connexions in the old country,
was well taught in all those little graces of manner, which,
if they do not always indicate sincerity and earnestness of
character, are more apt to conciliate, and have been usually
found to commend the owner to a consideration much more
favouring than is often bestowed upon real merit, however
elevated and worthy. He was, as we have already briefly
described him, small but handsome of person, exceedingly
graceful, and equally remarkable for his accomplishment in
tilt and tourney. An intimacy, formed in the new world,
and strengthened by mutual services, justified Nicuesa in
the freedom of his approach to Vasco Nunez, and gave a
sanction to those hopes of success in the object which he
had in view, which, if disappointed in the end, were yet
not so utterly unfounded, and consequently obtrusive, as
those of a like kind which had been already urged by the
Bachelor Enciso. But, were this not the case, the gentle
and unexacting address of Nicuesa, must of itself have disarmed
his freedom of manner of all offensiveness.

“Vasco,” he continued, “I have some proposals to
make you, which, if your friend, Micer Codro, will be sufficiently
mine to help me persuade you to accept them,
I am just as willing that he should hear as yourself.”

These words spoken, Nicuesa gave his hand to the astrologer
who accompanied them, and Vasco Nunez declared
his readiness to hear the communications of the cavalier.
Thus encouraged, the latter proceeded thus, while the three
kept their way to the Plaza de Armas.

“There is too little money to be had at this time in
Santo Domingo, Vasco, to make it difficult to number the
fortunate. The story is that you are among them; that, by
the aid of art magic, and our friend Micer Codro, you have
found the secret abiding place of the soul and substance of
the old usurer, Felipe Davila; that you have lightened
him of ten or twenty thousand castellanos, and the promise
of as much more; and that you are now able to fit up in
readiness for sea within the next two days.”

“A little truth, and the rest as usual,” was the laughing
reply. “Micer Codro has succeeded in persuading Davila
out of some few hundred castellanos, which will help me
to complete my preparations; but I believe the old rogue
already repents his confidence, since he brought the Bachelor
Enciso to us this morning, in hope to change somewhat
the direction of his trust.”

“Ha! but you yielded not—you did not disgorge?”
was the hasty demand of Nicuesa.

“Not a peso!” was the reply. “We had been fools,
indeed, to have done so; and to have shared with Enciso,
were a folly no less great. I have pleasure in telling you
that the two went back as they came.”

“By Saint John!—we, who cry in the wilderness may
well implore his special service and succour—but thou
wast right to send them back as thou didst, for coming on
so insolent a mission. It were a most heathen and infidel
demand, to claim from a cavalier that which they had freely
given; and to seek to make him a shareholder with such a
sharper as Enciso. But on what terms made they this
proffer to thee? What were the great advantages which
the Bachelor held forth?”

“Nay, I know not; something of joint fleet, and joint
command, and joint profit, with Ojeda in Veragua. I gave

little heed to his glozing promises, being resolved before-hand
to have no dealing either with him or his captain.”

“Thou didst right,—thou hast the wisdom on't; for
what had been his promise and pledge to thee, when he
had thee among his creatures in that wild land? He had
laughed at thy remembrance of an engagement, which, from
the beginning of thy trust, he had only studied to forget.
He would have had thy ship, too, no less than thy castellanos,
I reckon.”

“His demand was for no less, I tell thee. Modesty is
not the commodity of the courts, or if it were, Enciso were
not a professor in them; but to thy own matters, Diego;
thou hast not forgotten the business which thou wast in
such haste to settle but a while ago.”

“No, no!” said the other, hesitatingly, and with an expression
of good-humoured confusion in his countenance;
“but of a truth, Vasco, my business being not altogether
unlike that of Enciso, it is my fear that I have somewhat
too freely spoken of the insolence of his. I begin to think,
now that my own matters rise up to my recollection, that,
after all, Enciso was something less insolent than he seemed
at first. He was bold, perhaps, but it was only in his necessity,
and the necessity may well serve to excuse somewhat,
if it may not altogether justify.”

“I fear this money of Davila's will do me little good,”
said Vasco Nunez, gravely. “It is even so with every
spoil for which many are striving. If the treasure be gold,
they cross weapons ere its safe division; if it be a captive
damsel, they murder her, that none shall have what each
so much desires. I say to thee, Nicuesa, I am almost persuaded
to let thee have these castellanos without terms, for
I am in the faith that they will serve me little; and to confess
a truth, it is almost sufficient cause to persuade me to
such a resolve, when I know that they come from the hands
of Davila.”

“Wherefore is that an objection with thee?” demanded
Nicuesa, with some astonishment. Himself somewhat unscrupulous
in money matters—and this was one of the failings
of his character—he had not that nice sense of
honour, the reservation of which operated at this moment
on the mind of Vasco Nunez. To his unrestrained expression
of astonishment and inquiry, the latter answered with
increased gravity.

“There are reasons for it, señor.”

“Ah! I see—I understand,” said the other; “you would
owe nothing to the uncle of Teresa; it would fetter you,
you would say; but, my dear Vasco, these scruples are
very idle. You will grow less nice, and, pardon me that
I say so, more wise as you grow older, than you are now.
By the blessed Conception, and that I hold a most fitting
oath for men who deal in love-matters, it should be no
scruple with me, though the damsel's uncle were twenty
times her uncle, and father, to boot, to take all the money
that he should offer. What says the saw? `The gold is
blessed in spite of the blood;' and the woman whom I honour
with my hand should be grateful that I relieve her
kindred of the distressing charge of that, which the reverend
fathers of the church, (who take it whenever they
can lay hands upon it, and probably for the like reason,
to remove it from those it might harm,) tell us is the root
of all evil. For my poor part, it is a moderate, but constant
prayer with me, that I may have it in my power to plant
out a few more of these evil roots; for, as I deem myself
something of an adept in making them grow when I have
them, it is my faith in no remote season, that I should be
an extensive farmer. Did you ever hear of my spoils on
my way out, Vasco? Did you hear, Micer Codro?”

“No—what spoils?” was the response of both.

“One hundred of the Anthropophagi from the Charaibee
Island, which we now call Santa Cruz. They sold well
in San Domingo, and helped me to as many seamen, and
to provision for two months. These are ventures good as
gold, Vasco, since these feeble Indians of Hispaniola sink
so fast beneath their burdens: and the beauty is, that you
gather them with the weapon of the warrior and not that
of the slave.”

“None of these for me, Nicuesa. I should deem my
spoil worthless if not something worse, if I do not better
than this in the great southern sea.”

“Ah! that great southern sea, Vasco—do you ever think
to find it.”

“As surely as I live!” was the solemn answer.

“You will waste your best days, my dear Vasco, in
the search, and, I fear me, after all find nothing. I could
give you better counsel.”

“Perhaps! perhaps!” said Vasco Nunez, quietly.

“I have a better plan; and, by the way, to my own
business. You know, Vasco, that my armament is almost
ready, and I lack but little to its completion, and something,
not so little, to pay off creditors that might not else
be so willing to see me sail. Now, where I am to get
this money, unless by your help, the saints only know.”

“My help! These castellanos afflict you then,
Diego?”

“Give me these castellanos, Vasco, and take part in my
adventure.”

Vasco Nunez shook his head. The other continued:

“Hear me, Vasco, before you answer. I have, as you
know, the royal grant for one half of Darien to the west,
including Veragua and reaching Gracios à Dios. The
island of Jamaica is given to Ojeda and myself in common.
You shall share my profits in proportion to the castellanos
you lend me, and I will give you command of one of my
fortresses in Veragua—sole command—the freedom of Jamaica
for supplies; and one-fifth of the profits of all the
mines which may be discovered in your district.”

Vasco Nunez laid his hand on the arm of the knight.
“Nicuesa, you forget: the Bachelor Enciso, on behalf of
Alonzo de Ojeda, hath but this morning made me an offer
of like advantage.”

“But I am neither Enciso nor Ojeda, Vasco.”

“No! God forbid, for your own safety, that you should
be, Nicuesa. But though I couple ye not, I see no especial
reason why your answer should not be the same as
theirs; the condition of the promise being the same in
both cases; and, assuming it to be complied with, being
still of no force to persuade me.”

“Then you will not let me have any of these castellanos!”

“By Hercules, no! Not a maravedi, Nicuesa. I thank
you for your offer, which, if I had not some other purposes
in view, I should count most liberal; but it does not
suit me. I have hopes of better fortune than you can
promise.”

“You will make less money, Vasco. The southern
sea, my friend, is one of your dreams, bright and beautiful
but illusive. It will swamp your fortune, Vasco, but
scarcely swim your bark.”

“Be it so, Nicuesa; but I hope otherwise. We shall

see. I will not let you have my money, but, by the
blessed Mother, señor, you have all my prayers.”

“Enough, Vasco,” replied the cavalier, whose disappointment
did not seem for an instant to disturb his equanimity.
“I thank you, and hold myself not the less ready
to serve you, Vasco, as a noble cavalier and honourable
friend, because of your refusal to stead me in this matter.
Let us say no more, but enter the Plaza. Surely, among
the many brave gentlemen in this crowd, I shall find one,
having a warm heart under his doublet, and a full purse of
castellanos at his girdle. The golden fortune perch upon
my shoulder now, that I may see such a person.”

“Amen!” said both of his companions, as they followed
him into the public market-place, “may you find a thousand.”

“Thanks, thanks; one friend and a thousand castellanos;
the more money, the fewer creditors! Stead me,
good Codro, with a fortunate star, and I may have some
hope even of Felipe Davila.”

The astrologer shook his head, and there was a grave
significance in his eye as he listened to the cheerful Nicuesa,
which promised for him any but a happy augury.

“What! it will not shine out—it burns dim—it is not
fortunate! say no more, Codro—let not these money-bags
see thy face when I challenge their credit, and promise
them bold profits. If thou canst smile too, as thou dost on
Vasco, it will be a matter of a thousand pesos to me, and,
perchance, if I am successful, a something to thyself. But
a truce now! These harpies of Santo Domingo, will think
as they behold me smile, that it is because of thy prediction;
and I trust thou will not shake thy head again with
that speaking gravity, to let them see that thy faith in my
fortune is other than my own. Let us in, for the crier is
at work already, and it is a castellano's value to show to
the stout mariner that the captain who seeks his service
hath a hearty smile and an open hand. They will find
both, I trust, in Diego de Nicuesa.”

“That we may both say, Diego, without looking at thy
star,” was the response of Vasco Nunez as the lively cavalier
entered the area before them.

“It were well,” said the astrologer with a mournful
countenance, as the former passed from hearing—“it were
well if hearty smile and open hand, were all that is needed

in his adventure. I can tell Diego de Nicuesa, that they
will do him small service in Darien, however much they
may stead him here.”

“Ha!—thou hast looked upon his fortunes, Codro,” said
Vasco Nunez, stepping back and listening to the astrologer
with an air of anxiety which showed how much importance
was annexed, in that day, even by the most intelligent
persons, to the opinions of that visionary tribe of
whom it is difficult to determine whether they most commonly
impose upon themselves or others. The answer
was immediate.

“What saith the scripture, my son? It is written—`no
man knoweth his own sepulchre'—I tell thee that no man
will find the sepulchre of Nicuesa. There are hollows of
the Charaibean Sea that shall have more knowledge of his
fortune, my son, than any living Spaniard.”

“Alas! father, can this be so? And Nicuesa is so noble
a gentleman, so graceful and so gallant.”

“Noble and base will go down into the weedy waters
together, and there will be none left to choose out the
grave for the pure of lineage.”

“Let not thy look show forth these gloomy tidings, Micer
Codro—let him win what favour he may from the misers
of Santo Domingo. If the sea sucks down their treasure
it will be of little count the loss, when the same sea
swallows the brave spirit and the gentle heart. Let us in,
Codro—let us befriend him; methinks, I could yield him
these castellanos of Davila to keep him from the perilous
waters.”

“They would not keep him, even if thou wouldst; for
there is that in the stubborn vanities of men—strong in
their own conceits and hopes, which makes inevitable all
the registered decrees of fate. Nor, even did he keep from
these seas, would he elude his doom. There is a providence
that shall move its completion, though the victim
stirs no single limb. Not more truly does the pointed steel
yield to the grasp of the northern tooth, than does the selected
victim obey his fate, though, like the conscious bird
before the wounding eye of the green serpent of Cayuba,
he shrieks to behold it, and spreads a feeble wing to fly.
He will rush into its jaws at the very moment when he
fondly deems himself most secure from any danger.”

“And thou thinkest truly that such will be the fate of
Nicuesa?”

“I have seen it—it is written, my son; but of what
avail to reveal it unto him. He will sneer and doubt as
does the blind man ever; and he will die even in his blindness,
not believing, but hoping, even against reason, to the
last. Let him die, since we may not stead him by our
warning. Perhaps it were quite as well that he should
die blindly.”

“Perhaps! But truly, Codro, it is fearful to be hurried
thus from life—from the height to which we have toiled
with a perilous labour, and a sleepless hope—to be hurled
suddenly from the steeps of triumph, and feel the deep
seas rolling over purposes and pride, alike—destroying the
goodly life that had in store a thousand achievements of
greatness, each mightier than all the past!”

The astrologer did not say what he felt and thought
while listening to this reflection of his companion. But
a secret voice was whispering in his heart the while.

“And such too will be thy fate, noble, and generous,
and valiant, as thou art. Full of hope, and the love of
greatness, thou too, like the cavalier thou deplorest—thou
too wilt be hurled from the utmost height of thy dominion,
when thy triumph is most seemingly secure, and when the
assembled world is looking up to do thee homage. Such
is the written promise of thy star—but it is also written,
that, unlike Diego de Nicuesa, thou wilt first triumph!
Thy greatness is secure!”