an answer from them before the siege began. They requested Bishop
Talavera to immediately obtain opinions from the wisest men he could
reach, and report their verdict. The majority of wise men, it is sad to
relate, again pronounced Columbus's enterprise vain and impossible; the
Atlantic Ocean could not be crossed; but the minority, headed by the
wise monk, Diego de Deza of Salamanca, who was now tutor to young Prince
John, upheld it vigorously, and told the queen that the plan was
perfectly feasible. The poor sovereigns, who were neither scientists nor
churchmen, but merely hard-working soldiers and governors, did not know
which view to take. Again they evaded a positive answer, making the war
their excuse; and again Columbus, indignant at their evasion, determined
to go to France.

Right here we come to one of the most picturesque incidents in this
checkered life,--an incident that takes us again to that hot, dusty,
southwestern corner where we saw him first enter Spain with the child
trudging by his side.

Columbus appears to have decided that, before starting for France, it
would be well to remove Diego from La Rabida and place him with the baby
step-brother Fernando in Cordova, so that Fernando's mother might bring
up the two lads together. With this end in view, he again presented
himself (and again afoot, for he was far too poor to ride a mule) before
the gate of the low, white monastery near Palos. The first time he had
rung that bell it was with hope in his heart; this time he was dejected.
He had no hope, so far as Spain was concerned. The good monk Marchena
had certainly done his best, but it had come to naught. There was
nothing left but to thank them all and get to France as soon as
possible. So mused Christopher sadly as he waited for the gate to open.