miles, in what sadness and turmoil of spirit may be imagined, when a
royal messenger, riding furiously, overtook him and bade him return. His
terms had been accepted.

This is what had happened: In despair at the departure of Columbus, Luis
de Santangel, receiver of the revenues of Aragon, and one of the few
converts to his theories, had obtained an audience of the queen, and
pointed out to her, with impassioned eloquence, the glory which Spain
would win should Columbus be successful. The queen's patriotic ardor
was enkindled, and when Ferdinand still hesitated, she cried, "I
undertake the enterprise for my own crown of Castile. I will pledge my
jewels to raise the money that is needed!" Santangel assured her that he
himself was ready to provide the money, and advanced seventeen thousand
florins from the coffers of Aragon, so that Ferdinand paid for the
expedition, after all.

It is in no way strange that the demands of Columbus should have been
thought excessive; indeed, the wonderful thing is that they should,
under any circumstances, have been agreed to. Here was a man, to all
appearances a penniless adventurer, asking for honors, dignities and
rewards which any grandee of Spain might have envied him. That they
should have been granted was due to the impulsive sympathy of Isabella
and the indifference of her royal consort, who said neither yes nor no;
though, in the light of subsequent events, it is not improbable that the
thought may have crossed his mind that royal favor may always be
withdrawn, and that the hand which gives may also take away.

But though Columbus had triumphed in this particular, his trials were by
no means at an end. The little port of Palos was commanded by royal
order to furnish the new Admiral with two small vessels known as