and mountains green as emerald, the water its old unearthly
blue.

The _Nina_ swung at anchor just under the land and the
now receding tide uncovered more and more those sands
where the Santa Maria lay huddled and dying. The Admiral
gazed, and the tears ran down his face. He was so great
that he never thought to hide just emotion. He spoke as
though to himself. "Many sins have I, many, many! But
thou wilt not, O God, cast me utterly away because of them!
I will not doubt Thee, nor my calling!"

There was little space about him. The _Nina_ seemed to
quiver, packed and dark with men. His deep voice went on,
and they could hear him, but he did not seem to know that
they were there. "As though upon a raft, here a thousand
leagues in Ocean-Sea! Yet wilt Thou care for thy Good
News. I will come to Spain, and I will tell it. Chosen, and
almost by very name pointed out in Thy Book! The first
Christian shore that I touch I will walk barefoot and in my
shirt at the head of twelve to the first shrine. And, O my
Lord, never more will I forget that that tomb in which
thou didst rest, still, still is held by the infidel!" He beat
his breast. "_Mea culpa! mea culpa!_"

His voice sank, he looked at the sky, then with a turn
of the wrist at the wheel he put that by and became again
the vigilant Admiral of a fleet of one. "She will hold together
yet a while! When the tide is out, we can get to her
and empty her. Take all ashore that can be carried or floated