“I love to hear the melody of church bells mingling with the sound of the sea, for the sea has a majestic voice like the voice of God.”
Then the Admiral began telling them some of the marvels of the sea, speaking in plain and sailor-like language. Soon they entered the one long street of the town of Palos. The day’s labor was over for all, except the crews of some Neapolitan vessels loading in haste in order to catch the tide that would take them over the bar, the sailors working cheerfully, singing as they toiled. The women were standing at their doorways, their children about them, while the workmen were returning from their labors. Many were seafaring men who had made many voyages. They all turned and looked curiously after the Admiral, every one saluting him with respect. When his back was turned some smiled; and some predicted evil, saying:
“That man will take away with him some of the best mariners of Palos, and they will never be seen again.”
Others said:
“We shall try to go upon that bold voyage.”
The Admiral returned all salutations with dignity and courtesy. Then, with the two lads, he entered the Church of St. George, which was already dark. Before the altar burned the undying sanctuary lamp. An old priest was leaving the altar, followed by a small fisher-boy not much bigger than the little Fernando and wearing a white surplice over a scarlet cassock. When they were gone the Admiral and Diego and Don Felipe were in the church alone.
The Admiral knelt, as did the two youths, the Admiral kneeling so long that Diego and Don Felipe began to look with yearning toward the open door of the church, through which the cheerful sounds of evening floated. The voice of the night watchman calling the hour was heard as he marched up and down the street carrying a lantern on a pole. Sounds of music and dancing rang from the courtyard of a little tavern near by, where a pack-train of mules had just arrived and the muleteers were making merry. The two youths were not often allowed out of the monastery at that hour, and they longed with the longing of boyhood to see the life and the gaiety of the town. A half-hour passed, and Diego and Felipe had remained admirably quiet; but now the limit of boyish endurance was reached. Don Felipe began to cough, and Diego knocked over a footstool which made a fearful clatter in the stillness of the darkened church. The Admiral rose and walked out, followed by Diego and Don Felipe. Never had the little seaport looked gayer or more picturesque. From many balconies and casements came the sounds of singing, and a handsome cavalier in a velvet mantle was coming down the street strumming his guitar and rehearsing the song he intended to sing under the window of his lady-love.
On the quay some sailors were dancing to their own singing. All these sights and sounds were delightful to Diego and Don Felipe; and the Admiral, who had not forgotten that he was once a boy himself, indulged them in watching these pleasant sights.
A number of fishwives, their skirts tucked up about their hips, stood watching the dancing sailors and laughing. Diego, moved by a sudden impulse, ran up to a fat old fishwife, and seizing her by the hand rushed into the middle of the dancers and began the fandango. At that even the grave Admiral laughed.