drafting of letters, and laying of heads together, and clatter of
monkish tongues; the upshot of which is that a letter is written in
which Perez urges his daughter in the Lord in the strongest possible
terms not to let slip so glorious an opportunity, not only of fame and
increment to her kingdom, but of service to the Church and the kingdom
of Heaven itself. He assures her that Columbus is indeed about to
depart from the country, but that he (Perez) will detain him at La
Rabida until he has an answer from the Queen.

A messenger to carry the letter was found in the person of Sebastian
Rodriguez, a pilot of the port, who immediately set off to Santa Fe.
It is not likely that Columbus, after so many rebuffs, was very hopeful;
but in the meantime, here he was amid the pious surroundings in which the
religious part of him delighted, and in a haven of rest after all his
turmoils and trials. He could look out to sea over the flecked waters of
that Atlantic whose secrets he longed to discover; or he could look down
into the busy little port of Palos, and watch the ships sailing in and
out across the bar of Saltes. He could let his soul, much battered and
torn of late by trials and disappointments, rest for a time on the rock
of religion; he could snuff the incense in the chapel to his heart's
content, and mingle his rough top-gallant voice with the harsh croak of
the monks in the daily cycle of prayer and praise. He could walk with
Diego through the sandy roads beneath the pine trees, or through the
fields and vineyards below; and above all he could talk to the company
that good Perez invited to meet him--among them merchants and sailors
from Palos, of whom the chief was Martin Alonso Pinzon, a wealthy
landowner and navigator, whose family lived then at Palos, owning the
vineyards round about, and whose descendants live there to this day.
Pinzon was a listener after Columbus's own heart; he not only believed in
his project, but offered to assist it with money, and even to accompany
the expedition himself. Altogether a happy and peaceful time, in which
hopes revived, and the inner light that, although it had now and then
flickered, had never gone out, burned up again in a bright and steady
flame.

At the end of a fortnight, and much sooner than had been expected, the
worthy pilot returned with a letter from the Queen. Eager hands seized
it and opened it; delight beamed from the eyes of the good Prior. The
Queen was m