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“His Excellency Christobal Colon,” he said, giving Columbus the name the Spaniards called him, “has arrived, and begs Fray Piña to excuse Diego for an hour.”

“You are excused,” said Fray Piña; and the next moment was heard the sound of Diego’s footsteps as he rushed down the stone stairs, two at a time, and dashed into the sunny courtyard.

Standing in the courtyard talking with the Prior, Juan Perez, was Columbus. From him had Diego inherited the tall, slim, but muscular figure. The hair of the great Admiral was quite white; his complexion was weather-beaten; his eyes were the eyes of a man born a captain. All masters of men have the indomitable eye—the eye whose glance conveys the command of a master before the lips can speak the word. In Columbus the power to command was writ large all over him—not only to command others, but to command himself.

Suddenly the little Fernando, seven years old, led by Brother Lawrence, came into the courtyard and ran forward, and at the same moment Diego appeared. Instantly the Admiral’s stern face softened. He took the little boy in his arms, kissing and blessing him, and then clasped Diego to his breast.