"And as then, so now," answered Antonio de Alaminos, with wondering recollection, "the storm begins to fall to calm, even as the words are spoken. Your eyes, Señor, and your voice are the same as then; is the fearless, holy faith the same that made that wise, noble boy so calm and brave in the face of death? or--doth the man but mock his boyhood by the repetition of those words?" The privileged old pilot put his queries sturdily, and backed them with one of those clear, searching glances that had the faculty of reading men as cleverly as shores, shoals, and quicksands. But the heart of Montoro de Diego had little to hide; the flush that burnt in the bronzed cheeks was the flush of humility, not shame, as he replied in tones so lowered as scarcely to be audible against the wind-- "The man is, I fear, no wiser, no nobler, than the boy could claim to be, but he does hold fast to his boyhood's one little bit of wisdom, in clinging to the fount of all wisdom and salvation." "Salvation!" exclaimed a voice close at hand from one who had come forward unobserved, and had caught the last word; "ay, indeed, this lull hath been our salvation, I verily believe. Thanks be to St. Peter for his guardianship. I vow the first handful of gold-dust to his shrine, if we ride safely at anchor off the shores of Cozumel by nightfall." So spoke Hernando Cortes, and as he spoke he laid his hand with friendly familiarity on Montoro's shoulder. "Dost recollect, Diego," he said, smiling, "how I prevailed upon thee, now six years ago, to be one of Velasquez' followers in the conquest of Cuba? Little we thought then of the time to come, when thou shouldst be a follower of mine for a far greater enterprise." Montoro's face reflected his companion's smile as he replied-- "Perhaps it were best to beware of boasting until we are beyond Velasquez' reach." Cortes laughed outright. "Ah ah! how sorely he repents him already, the poor Governor, that he gave me this command. Verily, Montoro, I think I owe you as many thanks as myself for getting away from Cuba before his messengers could stop us. You are the quickest, readiest fellow I ever saw." "In flight," exclaimed Juan de Cabrera, sauntering up, and with a mischievous nod of his head. "Will he be as good, think you, captain, at a fight?" "Stand forth and learn," cried Montoro, as he drew his sword, and flashed it in his friend's face with a suddenness which made that worthy start back against the vessel's side. Montoro and Cortes joined in a shout of laughter. "Well, my friend," said Cortes, "thou hast well earned thy answer and received it." For once the temper of the easy-going cavalier seemed somewhat ruffled as he growled out-- "The beggar brats in the streets of Madrid can be ready enough in their onslaughts on defenceless foes. They are as swift another way when an officer of justice shows his face."