"Careful, Rodrigo," another dicer warned in a low voice. "Nothing would please certain gentlemen more than to make a cry of high treason."
"I fear me for my good friend Bartolmeo Botello," Ruiz went on, his back now turned to Garabito. "He has issued certain orders, I understand, and may be forced to see them carried out, edict or no edict."
Now the face of Pasqual Garabito turned purple again, and this time he did not reply as if speaking to his friend, but grasped his companion by the arm and turned to one side, toward the shore of the gulf.
"Let us hasten, good friend, before I forget myself in my anger and disobey the governor's new regulation," he said. "This thing is not to be endured for long without action."
Ruiz roared with his companions, and as Garabito and his friend departed, he sat down again in the shadow of the wall and picked up the dice.
"What is that," one asked, "concerning Bartolmeo Botello?"
"You do not know?" Ruiz queried in surprise. "Hah! 'Twas but yesterday, and you should have seen it."
"Yesterday, caballero, I was in the midst of the wilderness seeking a native thief."
"I had forgotten. It was a royal happening. Know, then, that Bartolmeo Botello, my good friend and friend to Vasco Nunez de Balboa, arrived from the coast of the Great South Sea some ten days ago with certain reports."
"We all know that, señor."
"Allow me sufficient breath to tell this tale in my own manner. He arrived ten days ago, as I have said, a month after the last ships came from Spain: and on his first clay here this Bartolmeo—may the saints prosper his suit!—meets the sparkling eyes of Señorita Inez Malpartida—"
"Whom may the saints preserve!" an admirer interrupted.
"Did I ever see infatuation at first glance, I saw it then," Ruiz continued. "My friend Bartolmeo, being of a blood, immediately sought the señorita's father, and by some manner of means obtained an introduction to the lady. I doubt not that within two suns he had held speech with her outside the range of her duenna's ears. Ah, that Bartolmeo!"
"’Tis a fair romance, but what has it to do with this Pasqual Garabito?" the other asked.
"Softly, friend; allow me breath. This same Pasqual you have named long has been eager to claim favor of the lady, standing even in the good graces of her father. But once she had set eyes on Botello, she would have none of Garabito. Because of this Garabito urges his suit with fervor, to the distaste of the fair Inez and Bartolmeo Botello. You follow, señor?"
"Si, and for too great a distance. Come to the point of the tale, good Ruiz, has it a point!"
"It has a myriad points. My friend Bartolmeo Botello, being a caballero true, would be courteous to a rival, of a certainty, and take no undue advantage. But it transpired that he had heard three days ago of a certain dusky native maid who had listened to the smooth speech of this Pasqual Garabito. It enraged my good friend that a man who would mistreat a native maid would, at the same time, pay court to a señorita of family and breeding. Wherefore he issued him his order."
"The order, man, before I slay you!"
"’Twas yesterday at this hour that Bartolmeo Botello met this Pasqual Garabito face to face in the shadow of the church yonder. In tones that could be heard all over the plaza, he informed this Pasqual Garabito that he knew of his little indiscretions, and that such a man should not presume on his birth and name to mingle with honorable folk. Pasqual Garabito, said my good friend, was at liberty to take the air of the plaza during the night or in the early morning hours, but should not presume to allow himself to be seen by honest folk in afternoon or evening—"
"Hah! Forbade him the plaza?"
"You have guessed it! Forbade him the plaza after the siesta hour, and promised dire consequences did this Pasqual Garabito dare disobey."
"And he has disobeyed!"
"He has. Had he not, he would have been termed craven, since all Antigua heard Botello's words."
"And to follow—"
"To follow there comes a row, else I mistake my good friend," Ruiz admitted. "And a row means the disfavor of the governor, and possibly punishment no Spanish gentleman should be forced to undergo. And were my good friend Botello in the midst of a dark plot, his chances for happiness could not be more ill. For there is yet another angle to the affair."
"This is news!" half a dozen cried.
"There is another fair maid of Spain who came by the recent ship. I refer to Señorita Carlotta Bonilla. It does not become me to speak of a young lady save in terms of courtesy and respect: but I must allow I like not the look in the Señorita Bonilla's face. Too much character shines forth from her dark eyes—character of the wrong sort."
"True," another said. "I would not be her enemy."
"This same Carlotta Bonilla has set eyes upon my friend Botello. 'Tis not discourtesy to tell it, since the señorita herself openly shows the state of her affections. Yet Botello, being infatuated with Señorita Inez, cannot observe the good qualities of Señorita Carlotta. The affair is now plain to you, comrades?"
"Not as yet," one answered.
"Why Carlotta loves Bartolmeo Botello, who loves Inez, who is sought by Pasqual Garabito. Put it not past the Señorita Carlotta to join forces with this Pasqual for the purpose of keeping Bartolmeo and Inez from each other's arms. Gladly would Garabito see Botello cold in death, and gladly would this Señorita Carlotta also, did he spurn her love, which most certainly he'll do! One must be in Seville and at court to perceive romance, eh? Hah! I think it not!"
"One woman can cause trouble enough for any man. May the saints preserve the caballero who has two on his trail!" a dicer wailed. "Let us on with the game, and await the meeting of Botello with this fine Pasqual Garabito!"
Now a soft breeze came up from the gulf to stir the foliage and make more endurable the heat of the afternoon, and now the great doors of the governor's domicil were thrown open by native slaves, and more caballeros, gorgeously dressed, fared forth into the plaza, his excellency among them.
They fawned at his feet, these caballeros, for already they had discovered that here, far removed from Seville, the word of the governor carried much weight, and also they hoped to profit by their friendship with him, since there was yet gold to be torn from some of the Indian tribes.
Ladies came into the bright sunshine of the plaza, too, some on the arms of their husbands or fathers, the señoritas with their grim duennas trailing after them as a bad dream haunts a man.
The Señorita Inez Malpartida was the first of these—a dainty bit of femininity, with tiny feet twinkling beneath silken skirts and tiny hands grasping the folds of her mantilla, and black eyes that sparkled and dimples that played about a perfect chin, and black hair in a mass, a high comb glittering in the back of it. She smiled upon the caballeros, upon the servile natives, at the trees and the buildings and tine gulf—smiled upon life in the concrete with the optimism of twenty years.
Her progress across the plaza toward the church was in the nature of a procession by royalty, for men ranged themselves on either sides in rows,
