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Fray Piña himself looked weary, and his black hair lay damp upon his forehead under his skull-cap.

“You have both done well,” he said, “and showed more proficiency than I expected. You may now have two hours’ recreation instead of one. The Prior’s mule and mine are both in the stable, but I apprehend they are both safe.”

Diego and Don Felipe hung their heads at this, but were glad to rush into the fresh, bright air once more.

In the kitchen garden, next the orchard, they found Brother Lawrence, of whom both were fond. One of their favorite amusements was to engage in wrestling bouts with Brother Lawrence. Diego was strong for his age, and Don Felipe was a skilful wrestler; but they were no match for the brawny lay brother, who, with his cassock tucked up, laid the two youths out on the grass at his pleasure.

At last came the message for which Diego had been longing, to go to his father in the Admiral’s room. Diego first ran to the little room which he occupied with Don Felipe, and washed off the stains he had encountered with the green earth, and put on a collar of clean linen—the Admiral was irreproachably neat and always rebuked sternly the least untidiness on the part of Diego. In a few minutes Diego found himself in the guest-chamber with a window looking seaward. The Admiral was gazing out toward the Atlantic with an expression of concentration. His eyesight was extraordinarily strong and clear, and at fifty-three he could see farther than Diego’s young eyes. He turned as Diego entered and clasped the boy in his arms. Grave as was the great Admiral, no man had more in him of tenderness. The Admiral seated himself in a great chair, and Diego, drawing up a stool, put his arm about his father’s neck and prepared to listen.