Meantime Montoro reached the town, and was instantly accosted by a young man of about his own age, and tall, bright, and handsome as himself, but with a dash of off-hand daring about his person and manner instead of Montoro's lofty dignity. "Diego!" he exclaimed, as soon as he caught sight of him, "you are just the comrade I most desire in our coming campaign. Throw thy paltry bales into the sea, man, and enrol thyself under our captain's standard." "But who then is thy captain?" asked Montoro with some interest, "and what is this new campaign? Thou art ever mad, my Cortes, upon some fresh undertaking." The handsome young notary laughed. "Better that than sticking to the same spot till thy feet bid fair to grow to the soil, like thy money-grubber, Don Alonzo, yonder. But, I warrant thee, this undertaking now on hand is no mere pastime for a summer's evening. Our captain, Don Diego Velasquez, hath it in commission to conquer an island, the island of Cuba." "Ay, doubtless," returned Montoro bitterly. "And hath also leave and licence, and perchance it may be even orders likewise, to kill off the inhabitants there, like so many mosquitoes, as hath been done here!" The other shrugged his shoulders rather contemptuously. "Verily, Diego, thou and our bishop yonder have been bitten by the same dog. But to comfort thy heart, know that Bartholomew Las Casas is to be invited to go with us to guard thy pets, lest one of us should so much as slap one of their brats to still its overmuch squalling at strange faces. So, what say'st thou now?" Montoro's face cleared to a smile. "This is what I say--that if Las Casas goes, then do I go also." CHAPTER XIX. _THE WAY TO TREAT THE REDSKINS._ "Montoro! I say, Montoro, I have news for thee." "Out with it then," came the answer from our friend, who was once more engaged in his occupation of eight years before at Veragua. Houses were built there for a colony that was never founded, and now Montoro and his companions were building houses on the island of Cuba, with a very fair prospect of inhabiting them. Only one chief had offered any determined resistance to the invaders, and even his followers were not numerous enough to excite much anxiety. He had fled from his native land of Hispaniola to escape the Spanish rule, and now he was brought to bay, and compelled to make a final effort for independence. It had just been decided to send out a party against him, strong enough, as Velasquez put it, "To conquer the rebel once for all, and have done with it." "And I am to be one of the party," said Juan de Cabrera, excitedly. "And if you choose you also are to have a hand in catching this Hatuey, and helping to make him an example." "He is that already," replied Montoro gravely. "Would that the poor sheep, his countrymen, knew how to profit by it."