ly. Every one
must be good at something."

The performance which they had just been watching would fix the name of
Ojeda very firmly in the minds of those who saw. Queen Ysabel, happening
to ascend the tower of the cathedral at Seville with her courtiers and
ladies, remarked upon the daring and skill of the Moorish builders.
Everywhere in the newly conquered cities of Granada were their
magnificent domes and lofty muezzin towers, often seeming like the airy
minarets of a mirage. The next instant Alonso de Ojeda had walked out
upon a twenty-foot timber projecting into space two hundred feet above
the pavement, and at the very end he stood on one leg and waved the
other in the air. Returning, he rested one foot against the wall and
flung an orange clean over the top of the tower. He was small, though
handsome and well-made, and he had now shown a muscular strength of
which few had suspected him.

It was natural that the sailor should be interested in the people of the
court, for he had business there. The Admiral of the Indies was making
his arrangements for his second voyage, and he had desired Juan de la
Cosa to meet him at Seville. As the pilot stood waiting for the Admiral
to come out from an interview with Fonseca he had a good look at many of
the persons who were to join in this second expedition.

"There will be no unlocking the jail doors to scrape together crews for
this fleet, I warrant you," thought the old sailor exultantly as he
stood in the shadow of the Giralda watching Castile parade itself before
the new hero. Here were Diego Colon, a quiet-looking youth, the youngest
brother of the Admiral; Antonio de Marchena the astronomer, a learned
monk; Juan Ponce de Leon, a nobleman from the neighborhood of Cadiz with
a brilliant military record; Francisco de las Casas with his son
Bartolome; and the valiant young courtier whom all Seville had seen
flirting with death in mid-air.

"Oh, it was nothing," La Cosa heard Ojeda say when Las Casas made some
kindly compliment on his daring. "I will tell you," he added in a lower
voice, pulling something small out of his doublet, "I have a sure
talisman in this little picture of the Virgin. The Bishop gave it to me,
and I always carry it. In all the dangers one naturally must encounter
in the service of such a master as mine, it has kept me safe. I have
never even been wounded."

The Duke of Medina Coeli was in fact a stern master in the school of
arms. He was always