Chapter Nine: Getting To Know You
"Alejandro, mi amor!"Juana Corozón slipped into the cool dim of the library, and closed the door.
This room was her husband's beloved and very personal refuge, redolent of the many books that lined the walls, of ink, quill, and expensive paper, and only sparsely decorated with a few fine paintings and various mementos of foreign lands. Outsiders were rarely allowed here, and Juana had trained her maids to dust and clean most carefully: nothing must be moved from its place, if at all possible. She, herself, was welcome at any time, of course: Alejandro had made that clear from the beginning of their marriage. In fact, she fondly recalled one evening, when they were newly wed, when she had been lonely, and had come here in search of him. The big, carved desk, impetuously swept clear of books and paper, had not made the most comfortable of surfaces on which to make love, but after that night neither of the two could look on it and suppress a smile. Juana's Alejandro had hidden fires, a fact which might have surprised those of his colleagues that thought him only a fusty old scholar.
Now he looked up from his writing and watched with obvious pleasure as she crossed the room to him, her steps muffled by the thick carpet. Ah, how handsome he is! she thought, as she always did.
"Mi esposa!" he said, his voice soft and low, and edged with laughter. "I see you are big with news."
He turned his chair a little as she came around the desk, and she pouted even as she sat on his knee, rejoicing in the feel of his hands at her waist. "Am I so transparent, then?" she complained. She set her own slim hands on either side of his face and tenderly kissed his lips.
He gave a low hum of approval at this, but when she released him he said, "You are certainly transparent to me, my sweet. Tell me then: did you discover something interesting about our guests?"
Juana dimpled, and her eyes flashed merriment. "You might say so, my love."
He raised his brows. "You alarm me!"
She said, more seriously, "Alejandro… you must not act hastily. There are exciting and dreadful things afoot! Promise you will listen to the whole tale before you say or do anything."
He frowned, but said, "Very well. Tell me then. I will listen."
And he did, though he was hard-pressed not to interrupt her narrative at several points. Once or twice he started to exclaim, but she put an imperative hand to his lips and looked severe until he subsided, and she could go on. And finally, when the tale of Lord and Lady Byrd, Father Taddeo Angelini, Don Rodrigo de Esparza and the Chalice of St. Francis had been fully told, Juana's husband saw the wisdom of her insisting on his silence. She told him, "Now you may speak, mi esposo, but I beg you will consider well before you act." She looked at him, somewhat uncertainly.
Don Alejandro frowned. "Juana! These are serious matters. Do you think I would be so foolish as to act too precipitately?"
"I do not know. He did steal your books."
"Ah, yes. My Plutarch , among others. He has much to answer for there, certainly."
"And he kissed me, too, if you will remember."
"You assured me it was nothing!"
"Oh, sí! But I thought perhaps you would still be jealous." She achieved a saddened air.
"Juana, you are incorrigible," he said, and drew her against him, and kissed her himself.
Her laughter was effectively subdued, and when he ended it she sighed with pleasure, and reclined against his shoulder. "Ah, my husband! How I adore you."
"And I you, my sweet."
"And you will help Juan Gorrión and his wife and friends?"
Alejandro's smile faded. "So, the rumors about the acquisition of the cup were true. I knew Esparza was a villain, but to harm a man of God! It is a terrible evil. No good can come of it for our city. Yes, Juana, if what they have told you is true… if Juan Gorrión—Jack Sparrow—is still what he was in his youth, then yes, I will do what I can to help him in this venture."
"Oh, but he is not, Alejandro! He is not the same at all!" She smiled at his raised brows. "He is grown. He was little more than a boy then. Now he is a man, and a good one, a leader of men. But, in truth, mi amor, you cannot fail to perceive it when you speak with him. He is grown."
o-o-o
"Good God! What do you mean you told her? Are you out of your senses?"
Jack sighed. "She knew me, James. And she and Corozón are no friends of Esparza's."
"So she claims!"
"Well, do you wonder at it?" Jack said a bit testily. "You know the man's reputation. Esparza's a damned fire-eatin' dog! Been spoiling for a fight with the English for years. He and Corozón have worked toward entirely different ends and, from what Juana says, Esparza and his cronies appear to have gained the upper hand. Corozón's lookin' at years of work, wasted. I'll lay he'll help us, both with diplomacy and recovery of the cup."
James still frowned. "I must say, your propensity for encountering past victims of your nefarious adventures makes you a most uncomfortable co-conspirator."
Jack chuckled. "I find it a bit disconcerting meself, on occasion. Still, in this case, I've an idea it'll work to our advantage."
"I can only trust you are correct in your assessment of the situation," James said, quite as though he trusted no such thing.
Harry approached, radiating amusement and sympathy, and offered James a glass, half-filled with ruby liquid. "Have some wine, James."
"Thank you." The Admiral took the glass and tossed off its contents. "Is there more?"
Jack gave a bark of laughter, and Harry grinned and took the glass to refill it.
o-o-o
For all his outward insouciance, Jack was inwardly somewhat uneasy about Don Alejandro's possible reaction to Juana's revelations. He spent the hour before dinner contemplating how he'd get them all back to the ship and safely away should the worst transpire, and Alphonse, thus given free reign, had fussed and primped contentedly, Jack barely aware of the man's ministrations.
A mixed blessing.
Harry, when she again laid eyes on him, exclaimed in delighted admiration, and then proceeded to whisper some extremely suggestive promises into his ear. This was, of course, gratifying, and boded well for the wee hours (unless they were forced to make a run for it—a possibility he would have found more exhilarating if his darling wife had been safe at home instead of gleefully sharing the adventure). Norrington, however, had raised a brow as he looked him over, lips quivering, and Owens and Charles had both stared outright, quite forgetting themselves. Beautiful!, Jack thought. Bloody Christmas beef. Nerves on end but, nevertheless, on his mettle, Jack lifted his chin and adopted his most convincing air of unconcern as he minced toward the drawing room, where the company was to gather before dinner.
In the event, his apprehension was for naught.
After they'd been formally announced, and greeted, Corozón turned to Jack, looking him up and down with carefully restrained amusement. The servants were still hovering about, readying savory tidbits, and more chilled red wine, enlivened with fruit juices and some precious ice, so he addressed his interesting guest accordingly. "My Lord Byrd! How well you look! Each coat more stunning than the last! The mind boggles."
Jack glanced down and finally noticed that Alphonse had dressed him in that puce coat he hated, the one cut in the most extreme of the latest modes (or late for the Caribbean, at least). He subdued the urge to look sardonic and, instead, gave his host a graceful bow, acknowledging the compliment, backhanded though it was. Corozón, Jack noticed, looked every bit the elegant statesman and scholar, the dark refinement of his suit relieved only by the snowy lace at his wrists and throat. Much tidier than of yore: Juana must have the dressing of him, Jack thought. The lady, herself, looked much too young and lovely in a gown of turquoise blue, a necklace of the stones set in silver filigree adorning her slim neck. A lucky man, Don Alejandro!
"Welcome, señor, señora!" the lady said, and smiled some secret communication to Harry, whose toilette of pale gold satin, topaz, and diamonds, formed a delightful contrast to their hostess's attire.
Harry curtsied with studied grace, and said, as she rose, "Such a pleasant house, Señora Corozón. I vow, we are most comfortable in the rooms you have given us. But I wished to speak with you regarding some of your fair city's amenities: specifically the fascinating markets and shops I noticed as we came up the road to your home. I've a great fancy to visit some of them on the morrow."
"Oh, sí!" exclaimed Juana. "But let us retire to the sofa, you and I: these men are not at all interested in such things, and can very well entertain themselves in the short interval before dinner is served." She flashed her husband a speaking look, and Jack an encouraging smile, then took Harry by the hand and led her away to where a sofa stood by the window, through which a red sunset could now be seen.
The men looked after them for a moment, then Jack turned back to Corozón. "A pretty pair, ain't they?"
Corozón, noting that his servants were retiring, the last of them closing the double doors to the room, slid his gaze to his flamboyant guest. "They are, certainly. I find it in me to wonder what possessed you to bring such a treasure on this dangerous errand of yours."
There was accusation in his tone, and Jack was first taken aback, and then highly annoyed. Setting his teeth, he said nothing, but turned to Norrington and lifted a brow.
The admiral maintained his calm demeanor. "The main object of our visit is, of course, diplomacy. I had no doubt the lady would conduct herself with appropriate decorum. She will not be involved in our other business to any great extent."
"Sí. Your other business. My wife has informed me that the rumors surrounding Esparza's acquisition are all too true. This priest: blinded, as well as crippled?"
"And marooned!" Jack growled, the idea of it still hitting too close to home. "Not even a single shot to speed his way, poor devil."
"Ah. That single shot. A custom of your cohorts, I understand. But a priest would not have taken that road."
Jack nodded. "Don't think I would've done, either, though fortunately it was never that desperate a case with me when I was in similar straits. But it's hard to say what a man will do, when worse comes to worst."
Don Alejandro's brows rose. "You were marooned yourself? How was this?"
And suddenly Jack saw his way clear. Reining in his sudden relief, he scowled and said, "A few years after we met, it was. Barbossa. Led a mutiny against me, for I became captain of the Pearl after Tobias passed, not a year after we took the Santa Inez."
Don Alejandro frowned. "Barbossa? Do you mean…"
"Tobias's second. You remember him?"
"I do." The Spaniard looked as though he'd just smelled some stench.
"Aye," said Jack. "He was the one as was all for chucking your crates of books in the drink. Didn't think you'd forget him easy. But more than that: he was the blackguard who nearly had Juana a few months later."
Don Alejandro stared at Jack for a long moment, then glanced at Norrington, who nodded wryly. "Madre de Dios!" he said, at last. "Then I am greatly in your debt, it seems. More than I can easily repay."
Jack restrained the smirk that hovered on his lips. He said, with credible deprecation, "But no, Don Alejandro! You'll recall I had those books of you…"
"My Plutarch, among others," the Don agreed, his voice resentful, but his eyes laughing.
"Aye. Barbossa left that one, as it happens, though the others have gone missing. It's still in my cabin aboard the Pearl." He nodded in the direction of the harbor.
"The Black Pearl! You did get your ship back then?"
"I did. Unlike Father Taddeo, I was given that one shot. Ten years I saved it for Barbossa, 'til the opportune moment came to hand."
"Ten years." Don Alejandro shook his head. "You are a patient man, señor."
"Good things come to those who wait, Don Alejandro."
"You killed him?"
"I did."
Don Alejandro smiled, and it was not the smile of a scholar. "Then I again forgive you the books, as well as the kiss you took of my Juana after you saved her from that villain—I can certainly sympathize with that temptation, after all. And Esparza!" The Don spat the name. "There has never been love between us, as Juana has told you. But this tale of Father Taddeo and the Chalice proves that he is the veriest dog. Yes, 'Lord Byrd': be assured, I will do what is in my power to help you with your…other business."
o-o-o
Jack awoke surprisingly late the next morning, considering the several birds that were setting up a racket just outside the window, and the lack of motion in this landbound boudoir. There was some excuse: he'd been up bloody late last night. Or bloody early, depending on how one looked at it.
Dinner had been superb, spicy and varied, although conversation at table had been less so, forced into conventional boundaries due to the presence of the servants. Afterwards, the ladies, pleading fatigue, had taken themselves off to change into more comfortable clothing and then had indulged in sweet wine, cakes, and ondits for several hours—Jack had caught them at it, hearing their laughter as he'd walked down the hall to the rooms he and Harry had been allotted.
Eschewing a knock, he entered abruptly, startling them to silence, and demanded to know what was so funny. However this produced such gales of renewed laughter that he growled, "No, don't tell me—I expect it's better I don't know," and, feigning disgust, went to fetch his sword from the bedroom, for the Don had expressed an interest in examining the Turner-made weapon.
Harry had followed him in, and pulled him 'round, and kissed him fiercely. Then she said in a low voice, still edged with laughter, "We were speaking of you, but 'twas nothing ill. Truly!"
"Naughty chit," he'd murmured against her lips, hugging her hard. "I shall have my revenge, as I told you this morning." And he returned the kiss, just as fierce, and pinched her sweet backside 'til she squeaked, giggling, and struggled away.
"That's not a nice sort of revenge!" she complained, pouting and rubbing the afflicted area.
"You'll have to wait 'til later for the 'nice' sort," he grinned, picking up the sword.
"So say you!" she'd said, provocatively. "I daresay you shall come to me half dead of conversation and brandy and merely fall, snoring, into bed."
She'd spoken loud enough for their hostess to hear as they returned to the outer chamber, and Juana had chuckled, delightedly.
But instead of objecting to this slander, Jack had heaved an elaborate sigh as he walked toward the door. "I daresay you're right. No 'revenge' for you tonight, Mrs. Sparrow. Sweet dreams!" He grinned at Harry's cry of outrage, and Juana had laughed and clapped her hands.
Of course he'd not carried out this threat.
She'd been asleep when he'd come in at last. He'd told Alphonse not to wait up, and stripped off the fancy clothes himself, laying the things on the chair for the valet to tend in the morning. The air, scented with night-blooming flowers, felt cool on his bare skin, and he crawled thankfully into the big bed. The sheets were as luxuriously soft as those they kept on the Pearl, and the warmth of his wife's slender form drew him like a magnet.
Half-waking, she'd turned to him, gathering him in.
"I've come for my revenge," he said against her ear, and smiled at her sleepy reply: "Mmmm…lovely."
They took it slow at first, she drowsy, he muzzy with good brandy, until, after a while, there came a point when they realized they were both very much awake, indeed. His name, interspersed with the kind deity's, began to sound like a prayer on her lips, and in truth, he'd have to have been more than man to deny such reverent supplication. However, he continued as he had begun, deliberately and determinedly settling the score in a manner that was, ultimately, of great and entirely mutual satisfaction.
Afterwards, they lay, still entwined, forehead-to-forehead, hearts slowing.
"Who's half dead now, eh?" he said, his voice soft.
She gave a weak laugh, then kissed him, sloppily, so that he laughed too.
She said, fondly, "You taste of brandy."
"Mmm. I had enough of it. Good stuff that."
"You were in the library? Juana says he rarely invites visitors there!"
"You should see it, Harry," Jack breathed. "Whole walls of books! He must've been collecting 'em for years and years. Your brother's is nothin' to it."
"Perhaps we shall be able to collect books on our Voyage of Trade and Exploration, and bring them back to St. Claire."
"Perhaps."
He knew his tone had betrayed uncertainty, and sure enough, he felt her hesitation before she said, "You do want me to come?"
"Of course."
"But?"
"Bloody hell, Harry," he muttered. "It's a risky business, sailin' 'round the world. Or even halfway 'round."
For a second she seemed startled. Then her hands tightened, grabbing at him. "Do you remember that Christmas, when you did not return when you'd said you would? When you were a month, a whole month, late!"
He sighed. "I remember."
"If it had not been that Tom was yet a baby…"
Her voice trailed off into a slight choking sound, and he felt her shudder, and tried to pull her closer, but she would have none.
She said, quite adamantly, "I want to be with you. No matter what happens."
He looked at the pale oval of her face, barely visible in the faint light. Reached up and brushed the silken hair back behind her ear. "The Pearl will take care of us," he said, at last.
"Yes," she agreed.
He pulled her against him, and they lay, cheek to cheek, faces buried in each other's hair, just breathing for while.
Finally he said, "We'd best get some sleep. Don Alejandro's offered to arrange a private viewing of the Chalice for us. We're to go at noon, or thereabouts. After that we'll have a better idea where we're at, and can start arranging things."
They had settled themselves and had soon fallen deeply asleep, and, as ever, Harry's warmth and weight against his side were a comfort and a delight.
Elements that were notably absent this morning.
He felt around the bed, to confirm the loss, and his eyes blinked open. Where the devil was she?
He got up, groaning a bit at the head the brandy had given him, and scowling at the rackety birds. Alphonse, however, was on the alert, appearing at Jack's summons, armed with a restorative draught, and soothing ways.
"Madame said you would need careful handling this morning."
Jack growled a little at this phrasing, and demanded, "Where's she gone off to?"
"She and Señora Corozón are gone to visit the market, and a few of the shops in the town. But you must not worry: young Owens and the admiral's son have accompanied them. The admiral and Don Alejandro await you in the garden, where breakfast is to be served."
In spite of a tendency to brood over his throbbing head and Harry's absence, Alphonse soon had Jack clean and dressed once more in gentlemanly garb. 'Lord Byrd' made his way out to the sunny garden, and was rather annoyed to find that his comrades' health and spirits had not been similarly impaired.
"Jack!" said James, "You look quite devilish."
"And good morning to you, too," Jack said sourly, but then turned to Don Alejandro with a crooked smile. "Glad to see you're looking well. Brandy's not my usual drink—sometimes takes me this way."
Don Alejandro chuckled. "Sit down, then, Lord Byrd. You will be better for some breakfast!"
The Don was quite right, and Jack had begun to feel somewhat better by the time they were nearly through and the four absentees suddenly reappeared. Jack and his companions smiled at the picture Harry and Juana made, coming across the lawn in their morning gowns. Like a couple of wind-blown roses, Jack thought. But what was that Harry was carrying?
"Look what we did!" she exclaimed as she drew closer. She displayed her burden triumphantly: a heavy book.
"The Plutarch!" Jack exclaimed. "You've been out to the ship?"
"Sí!" said Juana. "It was I who insisted: I wanted so much to see it. It is beautiful! Beautiful! And your little son…how you are fortunate!"
Jack couldn't help grinning. "How was he? Behaving himself, I hope?"
"He's been good as gold, Gibbs says," Harry smiled, "except for attempting to climb the ratlines once, and breaking the second best teapot."
Jack groaned. "He's too small yet to go aloft. I warned him about that."
"Yes. But not to worry: Gibbs seems to have told him some strange tale of some midshipmen, with whom he served in the navy, who misbehaved and were made to kiss the gunner's daughter as a penalty. It seems odd that the girl should have been on the ship with them, and she certainly must have been a dreadful creature for such a measure to have had the desired effect. Actually, I don't know how it pertains to Tom's case: the only one of the Pearl's men who has a daughter is O'Brien, and she and Tom get on famously! But Tom seems to have taken the story as a warning, and has been very good all day. Except for the teapot. But that was an accident." She stayed her rambling for a moment at Jack's odd expression, and then demanded, "What?"
Jack had kept his laughter checked at this ingenuous speech solely by avoiding eye contact with the boys, and with Norrington, who now choked slightly and broke into a fit of coughing. Harry's brows twitched together, making her look adorably confused and suspicious. Jack, realizing (not for the first time) that there were certain gaps in his beloved's education, particularly in her knowledge of naval life, cleared his throat, and said, "Never mind. I'll tell you later. Are you going to give the Don his book, then?"
Harry reluctantly (but wisely) let the matter go, and turned to Don Alejandro. "Here you are, sir, with our compliments!" She smiled as she handed over the tome.
"I thank you, Señora," said Don Alejandro, accepting it. He turned to Jack. "You were quite through with it?"
Jack did laugh at that. "Well, no. Can one ever be quite through enjoying Plutarch? Still, I expect I'll be able to procure another copy before too long."
"I do not doubt it," said Don Alejandro. He turned to Juana. "Well, my wife, I daresay you will now be pining for another little one. 'Lord Byrd' was telling us of his son's excellence and exploits only last night."
Juana smiled. "Oh, no. He is wonderful, surely, but two were enough, I think. I now await the pleasure of Grandchildren--as I know you do, as well."
"I salute your wisdom, my love. But—" the Don turned to Jack and Harry—"if the opportunity arises, I would very much like to meet the young Sparrow. And now, my friends, shall we prepare to depart for the cathedral? For Esparza has sent a reply to my request: he will meet us there at noon, and will himself show us the famous and holy Chalice."
o-o-o
Michael Owens sat in the corner of the big carriage as it made its way down through the city to the cathedral, quietly observing the conversation of his fellow passengers. Lady Harry and Señora Juana were getting on like a house afire, to the fond bemusement of their respective husbands. 'Twas no wonder, of course: quite a pair the ladies made, both of them beautiful, with cunning ways, and a liveliness that was rather unsettling at times. As much as Owens loved his mistress, the thought of marriage to such a one did not appeal: give him his sweet, gentle Suzanna, and he'd ask nothing more of life.
Earlier, it had pleased Lady Harry no end that her new friend had expressed such enthusiasm when she'd suggested that, rather than spending all the morning amongst the stores and stalls of the market, they should "commandeer a boat" and have their "swains" row them out to the Black Pearl, to fetch the Plutarch as a surprise for the Don, and, incidentally, to check on "darling Tom". The señora had fairly jumped at this, apparently being most anxious to meet the young imp, of whom she'd heard much the previous night, and to actually set foot upon the Black Pearl.
The ship, even disguised as it was, inspired awe and delight in the señora as they'd made their approach, and, true to form, Tom had not disappointed either. The boy caught sight of their gig when they were still out on the bright water of the bay, quite a distance from the ship, and, after waving and calling eagerly, he could be heard running about, warning the Pearl's crew that there were visitors coming and they'd "best look sharp", the inflections of his voice so like his father's that Owens and Charles had exchanged a grin, and Lady Harry had laughed outright.
After they'd tied up, Tom leaned over the side and yelled encouragement to his mother as she stoically ascended the Jacob's ladder, rewarding her by acquiescing to a hug and kiss when she'd gained the deck. He'd then launched into a detailed history of his activities in the hours they'd been apart, relating the bad along with the good by way of enlivening the tale. Lady Harry had interrupted, in order to introduce Señora Juana to everyone, but the señora, after expressing her pleasure in meeting Jack's crew, forever endeared herself to Tom by first exclaiming delightedly of the boy's likeness to his father, and then encouraging him to continue with his enthralling narrative.
Nothing loth, he'd chattered on as they walked about the ship, interspersing personal anecdotes with a detailed and startlingly knowledgeable tour of his birthplace.
Tom had left the ladies to converse in the Great Cabin at the end of the "tour", and joined Owens and Charles at breakfast. It was some time before Lady Harry and Señora Juana had emerged, and when they did, the increased understanding and accord between them was obvious.
They had left for shore again, shortly thereafter. Gibbs and Tom had seen them off.
"I thank you for your greeting, Señor Gibbs," the señora said, prettily, shaking the First's hand. "How you are fortunate, to sail on such a ship, under such a captain!"
"I am, that," agreed Gibbs. "A pleasure meetin' you, Señora Corozón."
Lady Harry said, "Thank you, Gibbs, for taking such good care of Tom!"
Gibbs chuckled. "No worries there, ma'am. After I fetched 'im off the ratlines yesterday I sat 'im down and told 'im about some o' them troublesome mids I knew in the navy, havin' to kiss the gunner's daughter, an' all. He 'savvied' what was what pretty quick, I reckon. Smart lad, your Tom."
"Ah!" nodded Lady Harry, a bit nonplussed, but taking note of Tom's scowl. "Well, I am very glad he took the warning to heart—his father would be most displeased if he were to be a burden to the crew. As he knows."
Tom gave a Sparrowish roll of his eyes, flushing, and muttered, "I'll be good, Mama."
She bent swiftly, saying, "I know you will, Tom." She hugged him, and said something very quietly into his ear, at which he hugged her back, quick and hard.
As Lady Harry stood up again, Señora Juana held out her hand to Tom. "It was a great pleasure to meet you, Tom Sparrow."
Tom grinned crookedly and took her hand. "The pleasure was mine, señora," he said, and the smooth civility of this, following so close on his chagrin over the admonition, made everyone chuckle.
"Just like his father!" Lady Harry reiterated, with evident pride.
Now, in the carriage, Juana was holding forth on the excellence of her own offspring. She said to Jack, "As I told your wife last night, our young one, Antonio, is in Spain, at university. He is a scholar, like his father, but is inclined toward the priesthood, I think. He is very devout, in spite of his worldly upbringing, for you must know we took the children with us when Alejandro was assigned abroad as an ambassador. Antonio will go far, I think, if he chooses that road. Giving a son to God must be considered a privilege, though I know I will regret the Grandchildren he might have given me. He is such a good and handsome boy! But my Isabel, she will provide. She married well, and only last year, but she is already expecting her first child. In two months we go to Havana, for I told Alejandro I must be there when she is confined. She shall not suffer the lack of her mother's comfort as I did, God willing. Though I knew, of course, that I would survive, for had you not told me so?" She dimpled at Jack.
The Don looked amused, but Jack, noting Norrington's raised brow, said, "'Twas that night I walked her home. Before they were wed."
"It must have been a most wide-ranging conversation," Norrington remarked.
"Aye, well, so it was. Had to walk for miles. Took a bit of time. We was bound to hit on a number of subjects."
"Oh, sí," said Juana, "And it was not only your words that gave me courage. I could not leave my Alejandro alone, for I knew by then he would be lost without me."
Don Alejandro chuckled. He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. "It is only too true, my love. How wise you were to perceive it."
They were coming in to the heart of the city, now, and pulling around a corner, came in sight of the cathedral.
"The oldest in Cuba," said Don Alejandro. "Nearly two hundred years it has stood, and it is a work of art, inside and out. But you will see presently. Ah! It looks as though the crowds are dispersed for the siesta hours, and Don Esparza awaits us on the steps."
It was indeed so. The Viceroy of Santiago, Don Rodrigo de Esparza, stood, feet planted apart, hands clasped behind his back, and though he was surrounded by several taller minions the stocky man dominated the scene. As they drew closer, pulling up to the steps, he was seen to be very fit, and harshly handsome, with a smile that quite failed to reach his cold, calculating eyes.
Lady Harry's hand slipped into her husband's for a moment, though she was outwardly calm.
"Welcome, my friends!" Esparza's smile broadened whitely as he came down the steps to them. "Don Alejandro, your lovely wife, and your many guests! Come! Come into the cool of our city's cathedral and see the Chalice of St. Francis."o-o-o