and growling hostility. This was Don Ramiro Alvarez, the father of the
beautiful Serafina, to whom Don Fernando was betrothed. He was one of
those perverse, matter-of-fact old men who are prone to oppose every
thing speculative and romantic. He had no faith in the Island of the
Seven Cities; regarded the projected cruise as a crack-brained freak;
looked with angry eye and internal heart-burning on the conduct of his
intended son-in-law, chaffering away solid lands for lands in the moon,
and scoffingly dubbed him Adelantado of Lubberland. In fact, he had
never really relished the intended match, to which his consent had been
slowly extorted by the tears and entreaties of his daughter. It is true
he could have no reasonable objections to the youth, for Don Fernando
was the very flower of Portuguese chivalry. No one could excel him at
the tilting match, or the riding at the ring; none was more bold and
dexterous in the bull-fight; none composed more gallant madrigals in
praise of his lady's charms, or sang them with sweeter tones to the
accompaniment of her guitar; nor could any one handle the castanets
and dance the bolero with more captivating grace. All these admirable
qualities and endowments, however, though they had been sufficient to
win the heart of Serafina, were nothing in the eyes of her unreasonable
father. O Cupid, god of Love! why will fathers always be so
unreasonable!

The engagement to Serafina had threatened at first to throw an obstacle
in the way of the expedition of Don Fernando, and for a time perplexed
him in the extreme. He was passionately attached to the young lady; but
he was also passionately bent on this romantic enterprise. How should
he reconcile the two passionate inclinations? A simple and obvious
arrangement at length presented itself: marry Serafina, enjoy a portion
of the honeymoon at once, and defer the rest until his return from the
discovery of the Seven Cities!