llen! The Holy Office shall not have thee!"

"Don Enrique--"

We sat down and drank each a little wine, and fell to ways and means.

I rested Juan Lepe in the household of Don Enrique de Cerda, one figure
among many, involved in the swarm of fighting and serving men. There
was a squire who had served him long. To this man, Diego Lopez, I was
committed, with enough told to enlist his intelligence. He managed for
me in the intricate life of the place with a skill to make god Mercury
applaud. Don Enrique and I were rarely together, rarely were seen by men
to speak one to the other. But in the inner world we were together.

Days passed. We found nothing yet to do while all listening and doing at
Santa Fe were bound up in the crumbling of Granada into Spanish hands.
It seemed best to wait, watching chances.

Meantime the show glittered, and man's strong stomach cried "Life! More
life!" It glittered at Santa Fe before Granada, and it was a dying ember
in Granada before Santa Fe. The one glittered and triumphed because the
other glittered and triumphed not. And who above held the balances even
and neither sorrowed nor was feverishly elated but went his own way
could only be seen from the Vega like a dream or a line from a poet.

For the most part the nobles and cavaliers in Santa Fe spent as though
hard gold were spiritual gold to be gathered endlessly. One might say,
"They go into a garden and shake tree each morning, which tree puts
forth again in the night." None seemed to see as on a map laid down
Spain and the broken peasant and the digger of the gold. None seemed to
feel that toil which or soon or late they must recognize for their own
toil. Toil in Spain, toil in other and far lands whence came their rich
things, toil in Europe, Arabia and India! Apparel at Santa Fe was a
thing to marvel at. The steed no less than his rider went gorgeous. The
King and Queen, it was said, did not like this peacocking, but might not
help it.

They themselves were pouring gold into the lap of the Church. It was a
capacious lap.

Wars were general enough, God knew! But not every year could one find a
camp where the friar was as common as the archer or the pikeman, and the
prelate as the plumed chieftain.

Santa Fe was court no less than camp, court almost as though it were
Cordova. This Queen and King at least did not live at ease in palaces
while others fought their wars. North, south, east and west, through
the ten years, they h