Francisco listened with the others, but his heart beat wildly, for, as the old man talked, it seemed that he was again in the land of his dreams. And no wonder, for the sailor's stories were very wonderful and quite true, for he was one of the men that sailed across the ocean with Columbus on his first great voyage. He had seen with his own eyes that far-off, beautiful land, where the air was always soft as the spring in the valleys, and where the flowers bloomed forever, and the trees bore delicious fruits; he had heard the reports of its mountains of gold and mines of precious stones, and rivers whose waves tossed gleaming pearls upon the beach. And it was all true, and all this wealth and beauty lay there waiting for bold hearts and brave hands to claim and keep, for the people of that far country were only poor savages, knowing nothing of the value of the gold and gems they wore, and were so ignorant that they thought the Spaniards were the children of some great god, and were ready to fall down and worship their beauty and strength and courage. And the old man talked till the stars came out, and the moon had climbed far up the sky, for never before had there been told such wonderful news as this, for all the stories of the fabulous wealth of the East had come true at last, and no one could doubt any more. By and by, as the days passed, the sailor told other stories of other countries, where the soldiers of Spain were winning great victories, and although his words were forgotten by most of the boys, yet Francisco and one or two others thought of them often and pondered over them, and thought what a fine thing it must be to be a soldier fighting for honor and glory. And as time went on they talked more and more about this, and at last they resolved to leave their old miserable life behind them forever, and go out into the world and seek their fortune. But they had to be very careful and secret, for they meant to run away; the summer was gone and the autumn had come to the valley before the three boys found a chance to carry out their plan, and one morning when Francisco and his friends were called to go to their distasteful work, they did not answer, for they were far on their way up the mountains, and had said farewell to the valley forever. It was pleasant travelling through the hospitable country roads, and after they had gone so far that they had no fear of being overtaken, they went on merrily enough. Francisco's heart was the lightest and bravest. He had most detested his old life, and now he most rejoiced that it was past.