While Charles in a fervent, silent prayer commended John to the favour of Heaven, the most faithful of his attendants was gazing at the sovereign's son. Hitherto Heaven had denied him the joy of possessing a child. How he would have clasped this lovely creature to his heart if it had been his! What a pleasure it would have been to transmit everything that was excellent and clever in himself to this child! To devote it to a monastic life was acting against the purpose of the Providence that had dowered it with such strength and beauty. The Emperor could not, ought not to persist in this intention. While he was supporting his royal master through the dark park he ventured to repeat what Adrian and his wife had told him of the strength and fearlessness of the little John, and then to remark what rare greatness this boy promised to attain as the son of such a father. "The highest of all!" replied Charles firmly. "He only is truly great who in his soul feels his own insignificance and deems trivial all the splendour and the highest honours which life can offer; and to this genuine greatness, Luis, I intend to rear this young human plant whose existence is due to weakness and sin." Quijada again summoned up his courage, and observed: "Yet, as the son of my august ruler, this child may make claims which are of this world." "What claims?" cried the Emperor suspiciously. "His birth?--the law gives him none. What earthly possessions may perhaps come to him he will owe solely to my favour, and it would choose for him the only right way. Claims--mark this well, my friend--claims to the many things which will remain of my greatness and power when I have closed my pilgrimage beneath the sun, can be made by one person only--Don Philip, my oldest son and lawful heir." Not until after he had rested in his study did Charles resume the interrupted conversation, and say: