Here they were not mere brokers or traders as in the rest of the world.

The necessities of the city dominated by them had made them pick up all the professions, becoming artisans, fishermen, boatmen, porters and stevedores of the harbor.
They still kept the Castilian tongue as the language of the hearth like an original flag whose waving reunited their scattered souls,--a Castilian in the making, soft and without consistency like one newly-born.
"Are you a Spaniard ?" they said brokenly to Captain Ferragut.

"My ancestors were born there.

It is a beautiful land." But they did not wish to return to it.

The country of their grandsires inspired a certain amount of terror in them, and they feared that upon seeing them return, the present-day Spaniards would banish the bullfights and reestablish the Inquisition, organizing an _auto de fe_ every Sunday.
Hearing them speak his language, the captain recalled a certain date--1492.