good deal of
His prestige. And what, senor, is at the bottom of it? Favoritism. We
know that the Supreme cannot Himself be everywhere, attending to each
little trick-track that arises in the world--matters altogether beneath
His notice; and that He must, like the President of Venezuela or the
Emperor of Brazil, appoint men--angels if you like--to conduct His
affairs and watch over each district. And it is manifest that for this
country of Guayana the proper person has not been appointed. Every
evil is done and there is no remedy, and the Christian has no more
consideration shown him than the infidel. Now, senor, in a town near the
Orinoco I once saw on a church the archangel Michael, made of stone, and
twice as tall as a man, with one foot on a monster shaped like a cayman,
but with bat's wings, and a head and neck like a serpent. Into this
monster he was thrusting his spear. That is the kind of person that
should be sent to rule these latitudes--a person of firmness and
resolution, with strength in his wrist. And yet it is probable that this
very man--this St. Michael--is hanging about the palace, twirling his
thumbs, waiting for an appointment, while other weaker men, and--Heaven
forgive me for saying it--not above a bribe, perhaps, are sent out to
rule over this province."

On this string he would harp by the hour; it was a lofty subject on
which he had pondered much in his solitary life, and he was glad of an
opportunity of ventilating his grievance and expounding his views. At
first it was a pure pleasure to hear Spanish again, and the old man,
albeit ignorant of letters, spoke well; but this, I may say, is a common
thing in our country, where the peasant's quickness of intelligence and
poetic feeling often compensate for want of instruction. His views also
amused me, although they were not novel. But after a while I grew tired
of listening, yet I listened still, agreeing with him, and leading him
on to let him have his fill of talk, always hoping that he would come at
last to speak of personal matters and give me an account of his history
and of Rima's origin. But the hope proved vain; not a word to enlighten
me would he drop, however cunningly I tempted him.

"So be it," thought I; "but if you are cunning, old man, I shall be
cunning too--and patient; for all things come to him who waits."

He was in no hurry to get rid of me. On the contrary, he more than
hinted that I would be safer under his roof than with