floor he entered the room, then he felt the man's arms around him, the warmth of his body against his and he heard Geronimo's voice say "Fernando! At last we're together again. Only death can part us now.'
And it did a year later. As death was beckoning Geronimo he related to Fernando how as a cabin boy on a ship that was wrecked off the coast of Spain. he was washed ashore and rescued by an elderly couple. They gave him a home but he was adventurous and when he grew old enough he enlisted as a soldier and went to Peru. He returned to Spain with his fortune because he was born in Algiers and as a Mussulman he would be dead if the Holy Office either in Spain or Peru ever found out. To divert suspicion he lavished money on the churches meanwhile transferring his wealth to Algiers. The Sultan, fortunately, found him attractive and made him a vizier.
* * * * *
My host asked me if I had seen any of the rooms in the Inquisitor's headquarters. Only the courtroom I told him. What I'd missed were the cells in the walls in the courtyard just outside. The cells were constructed just high and deep enough for a man to stand in. After the heavy wooden door was closed on the victim he slowly starved to death in the stifling darkness. Scratched upon the wall in one cell was the name Cristobal. Ricardo on another. Jose explained that two young men, condemned to death by the Jesuits because of their affection for each other, had died in their cells. Somehow in the cramped quarters each managed to scratch his beloved's name on the wall. After their death their bodies were brought into the court room and placed on exhibition. The room was filled with Lima's bachelors. ordered to appear by the Tribunal, and were told their fate would be the
one
same unless they married and had children.
Jose served me hot chocolate and frosted cookies. Fortunately he loved to talk and told me about Rodrigo, Geronimo's son.
Rodrigo, when grown to manhood, secretly loved Juan, a bell ringer in one of the convents. Formerly a Castillian sailor, Juan remained in Peru instead of returning to Spain aboard the galleon on which he had worked. Bell ringing in Lima was imperative whenever the Viceroy's or Archbishop's carriage approached a convent, whenever ships were sighted at sea, whenever there was news, foreign or domestic. A bell ringer had to live on continual watch in the tower, yet it was a coveted position. Juan got his by bribing a Jesuit with a set of Toledo knives he'd filched from the galleon. To be with Juan, Rodrigo stole into the tower after darkness and left before daylight. Then Juan became seriously ill with malaria. Rodrigo knew that the only medicine cascarillaquinine that would save him was in the sole possession of the Jesuits but he dared not ask them for it. They would be too curious, so he prayed to the Virgin and left money at her feet but Juan grew worse. Desperate, Rodrigo went to the ruins of an Inca temple, fell on his knees and again he prayed. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. It belonged to an elderly Indian and when Rodrigo explained his problem the old man brought him an earthen jug filled with water and the roots of the quina tree. The Indian promised if Juan would drink it he would recover, and Juan did.
The Jesuits were furious. At last someone had discovered their priceless secret. An Indian had given it to them when one of them was dying of malaria but the Inca never lived to inform other Spaniards. The Holy Office
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