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Diego could scarcely believe his ears for joy. In an instant he realized the splendid prospect: he was to go to Granada, to witness the end of the siege, to see the King and the Queen, soldiers and statesmen—it seemed like a glorious dream to a spirited and imaginative boy. His face glowed so that his father smiled.

“Does Don Felipe know?” gasped Diego.

“I do not know,” answered the Admiral, smiling; “but I do know that you long to tell him. I had many other things to say to you; but I have not the heart to keep you. Go—”

Before the Admiral could finish his sentence Diego had darted out of the room. He caught sight, as he passed a window, of Don Felipe sitting on a bench near the fish-pond reading a book in the waning afternoon light. The first thing Don Felipe knew Diego had dashed upon him, snatched the book from his hand, and was saying, joyfully:

“Don Felipe! Don Felipe! We are to go to Granada to see the end of the siege! We may see fighting—think of it, Don Felipe! We shall see soldiers, Don Felipe! And make a fine journey! And my father says your mother, Doña Christina, has asked that we may stay some weeks at the castle of Langara, Don Felipe!”