It was a great race, that of Quijada, four centuries of honour sustained from generation to generation on the field of battle, and the present one had not spilled their blood less gloriously. Luis's eldest brother, Pedro, had been shot at the Emperor's side in Tunis. Juan, the youngest, had died at Teruanne fighting for Castille, and Luis, the only one left, had been wounded in the Goletta. He was the hero of Hesdin and the inseparable companion of the Emperor in Africa, Flanders, Germany and Italy, serving him loyally for thirty-five years. It pleased the boy to conjure up this pair, formidable by their deeds, dazzling in their glory, as Juan Galarza had so often described them to him in the battle of Landresies, where the squire also fought. The Emperor gave Luis Quijada his banner, and putting on his helmet said to the squadron of the Court, that the day had come and that they must fight like honourable gentlemen, and that if they saw him or his standard carried by Quijada fall, they were to raise the flag before raising him. There was no doubt about it: two great principles were taking hold of Jeromín without his knowing it. God and the helpless, as Doña Magdalena felt and taught. The Emperor, the King, authority and justice came from heaven and were sisters, as their servant Quijada proclaimed! And then the poor child became miserable and wrung his little hands—why? Because in three days he would see the glorious leader without having done anything for his God or his King. Hearing him groaning and restless Doña Magdalena, who was also sleepless, ran to his help, thinking him ill; and when with childish confidence he told her his trouble, the noble dame could not do otherwise than laugh and be astonished at the same time. All the neighbours in Villagarcia went to meet their lord half a league beyond the village, the men with arquebuses to fire a salute, the women in their best clothes and the children in two rows to sing the hymn of the Quijadas, according to ancient custom. Some of the neighbouring gentlemen, who were relations, went on horseback to Rioseco, where the last stage began, and all the clergy of the place went with uplifted cross as far as the hermitage of St. Lazarus, according to the privilege of the noble house of the Quijadas. Night was already drawing in when the horn of the watchman, posted on the tower of homage, announced that the suite was approaching. They could hear the salvos and the voices of the girls and boys singing: Los Quixadas son nombrados De valientes y muy fieles; Azules y plateados Sin quenta, mas bien contados Traen por armas jaqueles.[1] Footnote 1: The Quixadas are called Brave and very loyal; Blazons Without number and much esteemed They carry for arms.