As soon as Columbus arrived from the interior, Bobadilla gave orders to put him in irons and confine him in the fortress, and so far from hearing him in his defence, he would not even admit him to his presence; but having collected from his enemies what he thought sufficient evidence, he determined to send both him and his brother home in chains. The charge of conducting the prisoners to Spain was committed to Alonzo Villejo, a man of honourable conduct and generous feelings. When Villejo entered with the guard to conduct him on board the caravel, Columbus thought it was to conduct him to the scaffold. "Villejo" said he, "whither are you taking me?" "To the ship, your excellency, to embark," replied the other. "To embark!" repeated the admiral, earnestly, "Villejo, do you speak the truth?" "By the life of your excellency," replied the honest officer, "it is true." With these words the admiral was comforted, and felt as restored from death to life, for he now knew he should have an opportunity of vindicating his conduct. The caravel set sail in October, bearing off Columbus shackled like the vilest criminal. The worthy Villejo, as well as Andries Martin, the master of the caravel, would have taken off his irons, but to this he would not consent. "No," said he proudly, "their majesties commanded me, by letter, to submit to whatever Bobadilla should order in their name; by their authority he has put upon me these chains; I will wear them till they shall order them to be taken off, and I will afterwards preserve them as relics and memorials of the reward of my services." [Illustration] The arrival of Columbus, a prisoner and in chains, produced almost as great a sensation as his triumphant return on his first voyage. A general burst of indignation arose in Cadiz and in Seville, which was echoed through all Spain, that Columbus was brought home in chains from the world he had discovered. The tidings reached the court of Grenada, and filled the halls of the Alhambra with murmurs of astonishment. On the arrival of the ships at Cadiz, Columbus, full of his wrongs, but not knowing how far they had been authorized by his sovereigns, forbare to write to them; but he sent a long letter to a lady of the court, high in favour with the queen, containing, in eloquent and touching language, an ample vindication of his conduct. When it was read to the noble-minded Isabella, and she found how grossly Columbus had been wronged, and the royal authority abused, her heart was filled with sympathy and indignation. Without waiting for any documents that might arrive from Bobadilla, Ferdinand and Isabella sent orders to Cadiz, that he should be instantly set at liberty, and treated with all distinction, and sent him two thousand ducats to defray his expenses to court. They wrote him a letter at the same time, expressing their grief at all that had happened, and inviting him to Grenada.