lookedathiminhisdarkSpanishbeauty，hisrichgarmentsdeckedwithchainsofgold，ashebowedbeforeCorteshatinhand，IwasfaintoconfessthatIhadneverseenamoregallantcavalier，oronewhoseaspectgavetheliesowhollytotheblackheartwithin。

　　Butknowinghimforwhathewas，myverybloodquiveredwithhateatthesightofhim，andwhenIthoughtofmyownimpotenceandoftheerrandonwhichhehadcome，IgroundmyteethandcursedthedaythatIwasborn。

　　AsfordeGarcia，hegreetedmewithalittlecruelsmile，thenspoketoCortes。

　　’Yourpleasure，general？’

　　’Greetingtoyou，comrade，’answeredCortes。

......

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