I have
never even been wounded."
The Duke of Medina Coeli was in fact a stern master in the school of
arms. He was always at the front in the wars just concluded between
Spaniard and Moor, and where he was, there he expected his squires to
be. There was no place among the youths whose fathers had given him
charge of their military training, for a lad with a grain of physical
cowardice. Ojeda moreover had a quick temper and a fiery sense of honor,
and it really seemed to savor of the miraculous that he had escaped all
harm. At any rate he had reached the age of twenty-one with unabated
faith in the little Flemish painting.
"These youngsters--" the veteran seaman said to himself as he looked at
the straight, proud, keen-faced squires and youthful knights marching
along the streets of the temporary capital, "now that the Moors are
vanquished what won't they do in the Indies! I think the golden days
must be come for Christians. And shall you be a soldier also, my lad?"
he asked of the sharp-faced boy, who still stood near him.
"My father says not. He wants me to be a lawyer," said the youngster
indifferently. Then he slipped away as some companions of his own age,
or a little older, came by, and one said enviously,
"Where have you been, Hernan' Cortes? Lucky you were not with us.
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