“I wonder,” said Diego, “if we will find at the castle your cousin, Don Tomaso de Gama, the daredevil knight of whom you have so often told me? I should like to meet him, you may depend upon it.”
“I hope we shall,” cried Don Felipe. “He is the finest knight in the world, and so gay and handsome—oh, everybody likes Don Tomaso!”
Presently they were called to make their respects to the Prior, who was returning to La Rabida; this they did with much politeness. They loved the good Prior; but they were glad they were not going back with him.
At three o’clock they resumed their journey. They traveled all the afternoon, the road ever rising. At nightfall they stopped at a humble inn, only frequented by the poorest class of travelers; but there was nothing better in the neighborhood. Diego thought the supper the worst he had ever tasted, the small, close rooms dark and dirty, and he felt inclined to speak of these discomforts. Everything at La Rabida was plain, but clean and wholesome. But he noticed that the Admiral and Fray Piña made no complaint, and Don Felipe, accustomed to the splendors of a court and a castle, said no word showing dissatisfaction; and Diego was shamed into keeping silence.
Next morning they resumed their journey. It was but three days to Granada; but the castle of Langara lay a long distance to the northward, and it was a good four days’ journey to reach it. The weather remained beautifully clear, although the autumn air grew sharp as they climbed farther into the mountains. Diego and Don Felipe enjoyed every step they traveled, and when they reached another bad inn, the second night, were secretly delighted that there was no room for them, so they had to sleep, rolled in their cloaks and blankets, on a little balcony open to the sky, with the quiet stars shining down upon them.
The third night the two lads again slept out, this time in the courtyard of an inn. It was expected that they would reach the castle of Langara by six o’clock on the fourth evening. They were now well into the Sierra Nevada Mountains and were climbing a rocky road which led to a plateau upon which the castle stood. The trees were quite leafless, and they could see at intervals the great gray mass of the castle, which seemed much nearer than it was by road, as the highway ran around the base of the plateau and was ever on the rise.
The daylight was not quite gone, and a crescent moon hung in the heavens, while a rosy glow flooded the western sky, and a band of gold on the horizon marked the departure of the royal sun.
As the travelers rode steadily on they heard upon the stony path ahead the clatter of a horse’s iron-shod hoofs coming at a hard gallop, and in a few minutes a cavalier came into view and rode straight for the Admiral.
“It is my cousin, Don Tomaso de Gama, called by some the Daredevil Knight,” whispered Don Felipe to Diego.