benefit Spain--Spain, Christendom, and the world!"

I asked who was that great one, but before he could tell
me came interruption. A visitor entered, a strong-lipped,
bold-eyed man named Martin Pinzon. I was to meet him
again and often, but at this time I did not know that. Fray
Juan Perez evidently desiring that I should go, I thought
it right to oblige him who would have done me kindness
had he known how. I went without intimate word of parting
and after only a casual stare from Martin Pinzon.

But without, my kinsman came after me. "I want to
say, Don Jayme, that if I am asked for testimony I shall
hold to it that you are as good Christian as any--"

It was kinsman's part and all that truly I could have
hoped for, and I told him so. About us was quiet, vacant
cloister, and we parted more warmly than we had done
within.

The white convent of La Rabida is set on a headland
among vineyards and pine trees. It regards the ocean and,
afar, the mountains of Portugal, and below it runs a small
river, going out to sea through sands with the Tinto and the
Odiel. Again the day was gray and the pine trees sighing.
The porter let me out at gate.

I walked back toward Palos through the sandy ways. I
did not wish to go to Africa.