Luis, wondering, yet dreading what the Jesuit had to relate, accepted his invitation; and, as they were passing the crowd, he observed Antonio among them. He longed to speak to him, to ask him if he had gained any information regarding the young Goncalo; but the crowd was so dense that he could not approach him, nor could he catch his eye, for there was no one more intently listening to every word the preacher uttered than he, nor would any of the bystanders have been supposed more devoutly believing. "By the God of my fathers, that man strives hard to gain the glorious crown of martyrdom; and, if I mistake not, he will deservedly win it before long," thought Antonio to himself. "He must be got rid of, or, mad as he is, he will find fools enough to follow his counsels, and among them they will commit some mischief before many days are over." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note. The whole of this Sermon is a literal translation. Volume 2, Chapter XIX. "Farewell, my kind friend," exclaimed Don Luis, pressing the hand of Captain Pinto, as they stood together in front of their humble lodgings on the outskirts of the ruined city, while Pedro held his master's horse and his own, prepared for a journey. "Farewell, Luis; we may meet again under happier auspices, when I return from the cruise on which I am now despatched, and you recover from the effects of your disappointment and reverse of fortune." "The mere loss of fortune I could, as far as I am individually concerned, have borne with fortitude, but that it casts a cloud over the last days of my father's life, and that it deprives me of the last chance of gaining Donna Clara." "But is your father's property so irretrievably involved, that you may not hope to recover it?" asked the Captain. "So Father Jacinto, my cousin, informs me, the mercantile house in which the whole of my father's monied property was placed having completely failed, and the estates being mortgaged to their full value.--No, alas! I see no chance of ever being able to recover what we have lost; and with me, I fear, our once high name must end." "Don't think of such a thing. When you least expect it, Fortune's wheel will turn up a prize, and you will find yourself prosperous and happy. You do not mean to become a friar, I hope? You were fitted for nobler aims than such a life can offer." "I must visit my father,--I fear it will be but to close his eyes,-- before I fix on my future course in life, though surely anything is preferable to hanging about the Court, a poverty-stricken noble, in greedy expectation of some paltry office, cringing meanly to those one despises, to obtain it, as is the fate of many, and would be mine also if I could submit to it; but that I never can. No, I would far rather sink my rank and name, and be forgotten by the world, than lead such a life."