ad been the moving springs. It was an able King
and Queen, a politic King and a sincere and godly Queen, even a loving
Queen. If only--if only--
I had been a week and more in Santa Fe when King Boabdil surrendered
Granada. He left forever the Alhambra. Granada gates opened; he rode out
with a few of his emirs and servants to meet King Ferdinand and Queen
Isabella. The day shone bright. Spain towered, a figure dressed in gold
and red.
Santa Fe poured out to view the spectacle, and with the rest went Diego
Lopez and Juan Lepe. So great festival, so vivid the color, so echoing
the sound, so stately and various the movement! Looking at the great
strength massing there on the plain I said aloud, as I thought, to Diego
Lopez, "Now they might do some worthy great thing!"
The squire not answering, I became aware that a swirl in the throng had
pushed him from me. Still there came an answer in a deep and peculiarly
thrilling voice. "That is a true saying and a good augury!"
I learn much by voices and before I turned I knew that this was an
enthusiast's voice, but not an enthusiast without knowledge. Whoever
spoke was strong enough, real enough. I liked the voice and felt a
certain inner movement of friendship. Some shift among the great actors,
some parting of banners, kept us suspended and staring for a moment,
then the view closed against us who could only behold by snatches.
Freed, I turned to see who had spoken and found a tall, strongly made,
white-haired man. The silver hair was too soon; he could hardly have
been ten years my elder. He had a long, fair face that might once have
been tanned and hardened by great exposure. His skin had that look, but
now the bronze was faded, and you could see that he had been born very
fair in tint. Across the high nose and cheek bones went a powdering of
freckles. His eyes were bluish-gray and I saw at once that he habitually
looked at things afar off.
He was rather poorly dressed and pushed about as I was. When the surge
again gave him footing, he spoke beside me. "'Now that this is over,
they might do some great, worthy thing!' Very true, friend, they might!
I take your words for good omen." The throng shot out an arm and we were
parted. The same action brought back to me Diego Lopez. Speaking to him
later of the tall man, he said that he had noticed him, and that it was
the Italian who would go to India by way of Ocean-Sea.
King Boabdil gave up his city to King Ferdinand and
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