"And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, He expounded unto them in all the Scriptures, the things concerning Himself."
That was the last of his reading for that day, and for many days to come.
Montoro's eyes were resting on the words—"And beginning at Moses," his lips were repeating a phrase that seemed for him to form the close connecting link between the religion given by God to his forefathers, and the crown of that religion as sealed by Jesus Christ, when energetic young Fernando found him out in his hiding-place. The younger boy pounced upon the volume instantly, with a half-indignant cry.
"Nay then, Diego, if that be thy name, I gave thee this volume of my father's to hold; there was no commission attached that thou shouldst read it, or even so much as venture to unclose the clasps. It is more than I have done, myself."
Montoro rose from his rough couch, and for all apology said with a long-drawn breath:
"I have found wonderful things therein."
Half-an-hour later it would have appeared that all memory of those wonderful things was lost. The anchors of the somewhat shabby little fleet of four vessels were being raised, and with flushed cheeks and eyes blazing with excitement Montoro Diego was making amends for ignorance by the most determined vigour and good-will. Such a little while ago he had been hustled on one side as a useless bit of goods, whose room was worth more than his company; but already his keen-sightedness and ready hands had reversed the judgments of those in his immediate neighbourhood in his favour.
The afternoon was wearing on, when a grave, kind voice addressed him:
"My son, I have been observing you. You have done well."
It was the Admiral himself who spoke, the grand old man who had attained to ever great heights of humility as he attained to greater fame, and who never held himself too high to see the worthy efforts of his humblest follower.