"Well then, friend Diego, if thou comest not with us, what is it thou hast a mind to? Something nobler, I trust, than wood-cutting, as though thou wert born a boor in a German forest rather than a Spanish nobleman." "I feel little inclined to boast just now of my Spanish birthright, I can tell thee," said Montoro heavily. "But to answer thy question--Ay; I have other plans on hand than my present employment. I accompany Las Casas on his progress of pacification through the island, and we hope great things from our efforts, both for the natives and the colony." Cabrera's shoulders went up in a slight shrug, almost in spite of himself. "It is to be hoped that you and the clerigo have picked your associates carefully for your peaceful expedition," he said, with a touch of scorn. "Otherwise I fear me there may chance some rubs to your tender consciences ere it is accomplished." "Little danger," answered Montoro, confidently, adding with a smile, "for we have, as you say, chosen our companions with due thought. You see, we have not invited you." Juan de Cabrera laughed. "Thanks for the compliment, my friend. I would a hundred-fold rather be found guilty of too much impetuosity, than of a calm, cold-blooded calculation." The smile died out of Montoro's face as he now exclaimed hotly-- "It is easy at all times for men to sneer at right and justice, and to clothe evil with grand words. In Spain our impetuosity has been a sword in the hand of honour; why is it here a weapon that would be disdained even by the paid tool of an assassin? But there, Juan, I but waste my breath on thee. This is no true impetuosity, no true impulsive daring, that robs and massacres the harmless peoples of these lands; but rather is it the base, despicable, grovelling fruit of cold-blooded reckonings of ounces of gold against lives. By heaven, I--" "There, there, Toro," interrupted the light-hearted cavalier, with unusual quietness of manner, "do not spend thy eloquence upon an unworthy mortal like me. And for thy solace learn that, although methinks thou and the clerigo draw the line too fine, I loathe some of our doings out here well-nigh as greatly as thou canst do thyself. But adios, for my party will be starting on the Hatuey hunt without me if I do not hasten." So saying, the gay adventurer departed with an air as jaunty as though he were bound for one of the Court tournaments of Spain, to be rewarded by winning kingly smiles and his lady's scarf. And shortly after his friend Montoro de Diego, with Las Casas, departed on their Cuban tour, accompanied by a number of armed followers, who were intended, by their formidable appearance, to ensure unbroken peace, not to win it after battle. But unhappily Juan de Cabrera's prognostications proved truer than Diego's hopes.