day, he might enter the harbor in befitting style. He accordingly
stepped into the barge, and took his seat beneath the awning. The grand
chamberlain seated himself on the cushion opposite. The rowers bent to
their oars, and renewed their mournful old ditty, and the gorgeous, but
unwieldy barge moved slowly and solemnly through the water.

The night closed in, before they entered the river. They swept along,
past rock and promontory, each guarded by its tower. The sentinels at
every post challenged them as they passed by.

"Who goes there?"

"The Adelantado of the Seven Cities."

"He is welcome. Pass on."

On entering the harbor, they rowed close along an armed galley, of the
most ancient form. Soldiers with cross-bows were stationed on the deck.

"Who goes there?" was again demanded.

"The Adelantado of the Seven Cities."

"He is welcome. Pass on."

They landed at a broad flight of stone steps, leading up, between two
massive towers, to the water-gate of the city, at which they knocked for
admission. A sentinel, in an ancient steel casque, looked over the wall.
"Who is there?"