“Who is there that wishes for more men from England!”
On the 22nd of August the fleet of the Infantes set sail from Lisbon, fourteen thousand men having been decided on as the number necessary for the expedition, and in due course arrived at Ceuta, where Dom Enrique, who had hitherto exercised but little personal superintendence, proceeded to review them, and to examine into their efficiency, Fernando assisting him. The sight of Ceuta recalled to them both that first campaign—so brilliant, so prosperous, so well-planned and executed. It was something to receive the blessing of the Bishop of the city that their father had made Christian, and to see it happy and prosperous under its new rule.
As the day went on, Fernando grew very weary of riding about in the hot sun, and began sadly to discover how unequal his strength was to the fatigues of a campaign. Enrique, perceiving this, sent him back to his lodging, whither he presently followed him in much perturbation.
“Fernando,” he said, “things are against us. My mind misgave me when we landed as to our numbers; and now I find that, instead of the fourteen thousand ordered to embark, we have but eight! Many fell back on hearing the Pope’s decision; many more from respect to Joao’s views. There has been some strange want of common sense in the officers who superintended the embarkation. They say their orders were not precise, and the king’s commands uncertain. Anyhow, we are here with but half our troops?”
“Well, dear Enrique, we who are here must fight the harder!” said Fernando, smiling.
“The commanders wish to send back the fleet for more troops,” said Enrique.
“No! How should we keep up the spirits of those waiting here? What would the king think? And the enemy would get wind of our intentions! We must push on at once, and trust in the force of our onslaught?”
“That is my own view,” said Enrique, “but my mind misgives me!”
“That is the most fatal thing of all. It is too late for misgivings,” said Fernando, resolutely.
“And you—how can you bear the march over these hot sands? You are over-wearied already.”