“The Queen,” whispered Doña Christina, “directed that the little boy be brought here, so at the moment of King Boabdil’s surrender the poor King may have a moment’s joy in seeing his child alive and well. Remain by me until the Queen calls for me.”
The King and the Queen were now approaching very near. The face of King Ferdinand shone with triumph; and Queen Isabella, although calmness and dignity itself, had a glorious light in her eyes and a flush in her cheek deeper than any one had ever seen there before. Her patriotism as a Castilian, her pride as a sovereign, her earnestness as a Christian, were all exalted by the driving forth from her kingdom of the enemies of the people and of the Christian religion. It was, indeed, a stupendous event for Spain.
The sound of music, the cheering, and all excited conversation quickly ceased, as from the Gate of Justice of the city on the heights came forth a cavalcade. A silence like death seemed to fall upon the world, which was broken by a sudden, loud crash of masonry. At the request of King Boabdil, the gate behind him had been forever closed by the destruction of the towers of masonry on each side of the gateway, thus blocking it up forever. Every heart was thrilled by the sound, preternaturally loud in the clear January day. The procession of the conquered wound its slow way down the hillside, across the bridge, and up again, until it reached the Spanish sovereigns. Then Boabdil, a miserable, downcast object, without dignity or fortitude, slipped from his horse and would have prostrated himself upon the ground and kissed the hand of King Ferdinand; but this the King magnanimously forbore, himself dismounting as did the Queen, out of courtesy to the fallen monarch. At the same time the Moorish vizier handed to King Ferdinand the keys of the city of Granada. The King passed them to Queen Isabella, as Granada was in the territory claimed by Castile. These the Queen in turn gave to Prince Juan, heir to the thrones of Castile and Arragon, who handed them in his turn to the Count de Tendila, the new Spanish governor of the city of Granada. At that moment Doña Christina, slipping from the litter and holding by the hand the little Moorish prince, led him to the Queen and placed his hand in hers. As King Boabdil made his obeisance to her, Queen Isabella placed the hand of the child in that of the father. The little boy gave a sharp cry of joy, and the poor weeping Boabdil caught his son to his breast. Then, in the midst of a death-like silence, every eye saw rising slowly over the citadel of Granada the red and yellow standard of Spain, the Gonfalon, until it floated over the flag of the Crescent, which came down quickly. A great shout that seemed to shake the earth, a crashing of music, a roaring of artillery, broke forth as if the whole world rejoiced. The King and the Queen, going into the Christian chapel of San Sebastian, until that morning a Moorish mosque, fell on their knees and gave thanks to God for the liberation of their country from the invader and for the triumph of the Christian religion.
The event was up to that time the most glorious in the history of Spain and the most important. But a day was about to dawn for Spain more brilliant, more imposing, more full of triumph than any country on the globe has ever known, a day never yet surpassed in all the countries upon which the sun has risen since.
V
THE SPLENDOR OF THE DAWN
THE Spanish court, the army, and the whole nation gave itself up to gladness at the driving from Spanish soil of the Moorish invaders. The city of Granada had to be invested, its government established, the people who remained provided for, and all of the vast details settled of a new acquisition. The court remained at Santa Fé, although often giving audiences and holding splendid functions in the magnificent palace of the Alhambra in the city of Granada. There were great reviews of troops, receptions of ambassadors, gorgeous religious ceremonials in the consecration of the Moorish mosques into Christian churches. Through it all Diego and Don Felipe pursued their quiet, studious life under the stern rule of Fray Piña. Every day the Admiral went upon his usual round, visiting those persons who were interested in his scheme and those in power whom he hoped to interest in it. Father Diego de Deza and Alonzo de Quintanilla remained his steadfast friends. At last, one day, a fortnight after the surrender of Granada, De Quintanilla brought the joyful news that the King and the Queen were prepared to redeem their promise to the Admiral, that when the war with the Moors had reached a conclusion they would assist him in his enterprise.
Diego and Don Felipe were wild with delight. To them it seemed as if the voyage were already made and concluded, the Admiral returning loaded with honors and Diego made a grandee of Spain. They watched the Admiral set forth, plainly but suitably dressed, and with that incomparable air of dignity and composure that always made him a marked man. All during the morning Fray Piña found his pupils inattentive and more disposed to reverie than work; but under his sharp admonition they were compelled to pay attention.
It was a little after noon when the sound of steps was heard upon the stairs, and the Admiral and Alonzo de Quintanilla entered the room. De Quintanilla appeared deeply agitated, and for the first time there were indications of subdued anger on the Admiral’s part; but his voice, in speaking, was composed.