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Diego caught his father in a strong embrace, and rubbed his smooth, boyish cheek against the Admiral’s bronzed face.

The Admiral, as he was already popularly called, returned warmly the boy’s caress, and then, holding him off at arm’s length, said to him:

“How have you behaved since last I saw you?”

“Not very well,” answered Diego, candidly, looking into his father’s eyes. “It is so hard to study in sunny weather, and Don Felipe and I went fishing and overstayed our time twice.”

The Admiral said nothing; and the Prior, a grave, handsome man, but not unkindly in his aspect, looked hard at Diego.

“Then,” said Diego, after a pause, and forcing himself to speak, “the first day Don Felipe came I found the Prior’s mule at large, and Don Felipe and I got Fray Piña’s mule out of the stable and ran races until we were caught and stopped.”

“And punished,” added the Prior, quietly. “But there has been no lying or deceit or anything base in the conduct of your son, Christobal Colon.”

“Then,” answered the Admiral, “the rest is easily forgiven. Return now to your studies, and when I have finished my conversation with the Prior, and when Fray Piña will give you leave, then will I speak with you at length.”