"And then?" came the short query. "And then," ended the boy with a sort of gasp for breath, "they sink to the ground, and the brutal kick given to rouse them up to continued labour, is the accompaniment of their last breath. It is little wonder, Señor, that I should wish poor Guatchi to get away free, now that he has escaped such toil alive." The whole fervour of the boy's susceptible nature was aroused, and Montoro felt more than ever convinced that he was in the presence of one whose spirit was akin to his own. "Hearken, Bautista," he said, after a short pause. "I have within the past few hours copied out part of a commission against the miserable inhabitants of this new world, lately granted by our king, and framed by the greatest divines and lawyers of our old home. Alonso de Ojeda and Diego de Nicuessa bear drafts of this commission with them, and be well assured that they will not spare its execution. But stay; I will read thee the very words themselves, addressed for peremptory orders to these poor heathen, ignorant of the very language in which we call upon them to obey our faith and laws:--'If you will not consent to take our Church for your Church, the holy father the Pope for your spiritual head, our king for your king and sovereign lord over your kings and countries, then, with the help of God, I will enter your country by force; I will carry on war against you with the utmost violence; I will subject you to the yoke of obedience; I will take your wives and children and will make them slaves; I will seize your goods, and do you all the mischief in my power, as rebellious subjects, who will not submit to their lawful sovereign. And I protest that all the bloodshed and calamities that shall follow shall be due to you, and not to us.'"[2] [Footnote 2: Robertson's 'America,' Bk. III. pp. 193, 194.] As Montoro came to the end of his sheet he folded and replaced it in his pocket, and then, utterly forgetful of his companion in his reawakened indignation, he wandered away from the verandah, and betook himself to the simple dwelling of the good clerigo, Bartholomew de las Casas, who was now finally settled in Hispaniola, by royal desire, as a missionary to the natives. "But of what use," he exclaimed this afternoon in sorrowful despair to his equally weary-hearted visitor, "of what use, Diego, to waste our time and strength, in trying to teach the sublime truths of religion to men whose spirits are broken, and their minds weakened by oppression?" "Of what use, indeed," assented Montoro with passion, "to try to teach men to believe in a religion professing itself the religion of love and mercy, while they are slaves to those calling themselves its followers, and who are acting at the same time the part of demons!"