se management of camp, had been resting idly on the sands, but
sat up, alert at that name.

"Holy name of God:--" and his words were low and keen as though bitten
off between his teeth--"is he then alive? Good Father--was it he? and
is he still alive?"

While one might count ten, Padre Vicente looked in silence at the
tense, eager face of his questioner, and the others stared also, and
felt that a spark had touched powder there.

"Yes:--it is true. It was that man," said the priest at last. "But why
do you, my son, wake up at the name? May it be that the Greek was dear
to you?"

"He should be dear should I find him, or any of his blood!" But the
voice of the careless adventurer was changed and was not nice to hear.
"All the gold the new land could give me would I barter but to look on
the face of Don Teo, the renegade Greek!"

"But not in friendship?"

Juan Gonzalvo laughed, and Don Diego crossed himself at that
laugh,--it had the mockery of hell in it, and the priest turned and
gave the heretofore careless fellow a keener attention than had
previously occurred to him. By so little a thing as a laugh had the
adventurer lifted himself from the level where he had been idly
assigned.

"You will not look on his face in this world, my son," said the
priest, "and enmities should cease at the grave. The man is dead. You
could have been but a child when he left Spain, what evil could have
given him your hate?"

"My father was one of the Christian slaves chained by him to the oars
of Solyman the infidel Turk! Long days and horrible nights was he
witness to the lives of Solyman the magnificent, and Don Teodore the
fortunate. When the end came,--when the magnificent patron began to
set spies on his favorite lady of the harem, the tricky Greek escaped
one dark night, and brought up in Barcelona as an escaped slave of the
Turk, pretending he had eluded the swords of the oppressor after
dreadful days of bondage."

"I remember that time," said Don Diego. "He was entertained by the
nobles, and plied with questions, and was offered a good office in the
next crusade against the unsanctified infidels."

"So it was told to me," said Juan Gonzalvo--"told by a man whose every
scar spoke of the Greek wolf! I was told of them as other children are
told the stories of the blessed saints. My first toy sword was
dedicated to the cutting down of that thrice accursed infidel and all
his blood. God:--God:--how mad I was when I was told