On board this fleet were the Admiral's most bitter enemies; on board its grandest vessel was the narrow-minded, mean-spirited upstart, Bobadilla, who, to the ever-enduring disgrace of his own name and of his country, had dared to send the great seaman, the great thinker, the man of unbounded hopes, enthusiasm, courage, endurance, and magnanimity--the man who to Bobadilla was as a lion to a rat--had dared to send this giant hero home in chains like a vile malefactor but two years before, and had covetously grasped at his possessions, impudently installing himself in the house of his patient victim, and laying greedy hands upon his arms, gold, plate, jewels, horses, books, and even his letters and precious manuscripts. Against that fleet, with all its proud sumptuousness contrasted with the miserable little squadron granted to Columbus, and against his base enemies on board, the company on board his own ship considered that he had a full right to feel the most vengeful wrath. It was not Montoro only who could scarcely believe his ears when, after the pause of a few moments following his sacred quotation--moments devoted to further keen, close scrutiny of those weather signs in which he was so deeply skilled--the Admiral summoned forward the crew of the boat that had just returned, and despatched them with a second message to the new governor Ovando, to entreat him to save the fleet from the certainly approaching storm, by a few days' delay of their departure. "Better to leave them to meet their fate as they leave us," muttered Montoro, with the yet unconquered passion of his nature. But once again that firm touch came upon his shoulder. The Admiral's quick ears had caught the growl, low as it was. "My son," he said quietly, "you shall go with my messengers. That will be a fitting rebuke for you, will it not," he added with a grave smile, "for uttering opinions contrary to those of your commander, and contrary to those of the Divine Ruler of the universe?" Obeying a sudden impulse of veneration, Diego snatched the aged hand in his own, and pressed it to his lips. "I can never attain to your generosity, Señor," he murmured, "nor be thus forgiving to those wrongfully my enemies." Just as the boat was starting, Ferdinand Columbus bent over the ship's side, and called mischievously: "Diego, there, hark ye!" "Ay, what is it then?" asked Montoro, as he lifted his head, resting on his oar the while. "What news hast thou since I left thee and the caravel?" "Great news," was the mischievous answer. "My father gives me leave to tell thee that, since thou art doubtless feared by reason of the coming storm, he will obtain permission at least for such a whipper-snap as thou to abide on shore."