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Next morning they resumed their journey. It was but three days to Granada; but the castle of Langara lay a long distance to the northward, and it was a good four days’ journey to reach it. The weather remained beautifully clear, although the autumn air grew sharp as they climbed farther into the mountains. Diego and Don Felipe enjoyed every step they traveled, and when they reached another bad inn, the second night, were secretly delighted that there was no room for them, so they had to sleep, rolled in their cloaks and blankets, on a little balcony open to the sky, with the quiet stars shining down upon them.

The third night the two lads again slept out, this time in the courtyard of an inn. It was expected that they would reach the castle of Langara by six o’clock on the fourth evening. They were now well into the Sierra Nevada Mountains and were climbing a rocky road which led to a plateau upon which the castle stood. The trees were quite leafless, and they could see at intervals the great gray mass of the castle, which seemed much nearer than it was by road, as the highway ran around the base of the plateau and was ever on the rise.