[Footnote A: The True Discovery of America. Captain R.N. Gambier. Fortnightly Review, January 1, 1894.]
“In January, 1488, Cousin sailed west out into the Atlantic, and south, for two months with Vincent Pinzon a practical sailor, second in command. He sailed up the Amazon River, secured strange birds, feathers, spices, and unknown woods, and returned to the coast of Africa for a cargo of ivory, oil, skins, and gold dust. Pinzon quarreled with the natives, fired upon them, and seized some of their goods, so that they fled and would not come back to him. He thus lost a valuable return cargo. At Dieppe the merchants were enraged; Pinzon was tried by court martial for imperilling the trade of Africa, and banished from French soil. He thirsted for revenge and went back to Palos to tell his brothers Alonzo and Martin, shipowners, of the mighty Amazon; often they speculated as to the vast lands which the Amazon drained.
“Columbus, discouraged, ridiculed, and begging his way, started out to meet at Huelva his brother-in-law and secure promised help, so that he could visit France. Suddenly he changed his route, stopped at the little convent La Rabida, met Juan Perez, who knew Queen Isabella, and Fernandez the priest, the latter a close friend of the three Pinzon brothers. Columbus got what he wanted at court, returned to Palos, and with the Pinzon brothers sailed west, with Vincent Pinzon, Cousin’s shipmate, as pilot. The conclusion that Jean Cousin, and not Columbus first discovered America, seems irresistible. Pope Alexander VI., by Papal bull, had already divided all the new discoveries made, between Catholic Spain and Portugal. Dieppe and France were in the Pope’s black books. What chance of recognition had Cousin against Columbus, the protege of this Pope?”
“You seem to win your case,” said Major Williams, “what romance in history will be left us? William Tell is now a myth, and Washington’s little hatchet story is no more.”
Lucille quieted Leo with a smile, cigars were thrown overboard, the light on the Isle of Elba was visible, and all retired for the night, while the alert yacht, like a whirring night-hawk, flew on towards Naples.
On the yacht “Hallena” early to bed and early to rise was an unwritten law. By six o’clock next morning, breakfast had been served, and the tourists were on deck with glasses, each anxious to discover objects of interest. During the night busy Leghorn on the coast, and Pisa, and Florence up the Arno, were left behind. Leo was proud of sunny and artistic Italy and he much desired that Lucille should see at Pisa the famous white marble leaning tower, with its beautiful spiral colonnades; its noble cathedral and baptistry, the latter famous for its wonderful echo, and the celebrated cemetery made of earth brought from the Holy Land. At Florence she should see the stupendous Duomo, with the Brunelleschi dome that excited the emulation of Michael Angelo; the bronze