"Here we are, Señor Conde – here we are, at last, Señora Doña Mercedes, lying off the town of Palos, and within a hundred yards of the very spot where Don Christopher and his gallant companions departed for the discovery of the Indies – God bless him a hundred-fold, and all who went with him. The boat is ready to take you to the shore, Señora; and there, if you do not find Seville, or Barcelona, cathedrals and palaces, you will find Palos, and Santa Clara, and the ship-yard-gate – three places that are, henceforth, to be more renowned than either: Palos, as having sent forth the expedition; Santa Clara, as having saved it from destruction, by vows fulfilled at its altars; and the gate, for having had the ship of the admiral built within it."

"And other great events, good Sancho!" put in the count.

"Just so, your Excellency; and for other great events. Am I to land you, lady?"

Mercedes assented, and in ten minutes she and her husband were walking on the beach, within ten yards of the very spot where Columbus and Luis had embarked the previous year. The firm sands were now covered with people, walking in the cool of the evening. Most of them were of the humbler classes, this being the only land, we believe, in which the population of countries that possess a favorable climate, do not thus mingle in their public promenades, at that witching hour.

Luis and his beautiful wife had landed merely for exercise and relaxation, well knowing that the felucca possessed better accommodations than any hosteria of Palos; and they fell into the current of the walkers. Before them was a group of young matrons, who were conversing eagerly, and sufficiently loud to be overheard. Our hero and heroine instantly ceased their own discourse, when they found that the subject was the voyage to Cathay.

"This day," said one of the party, in a tone of authority, "did Don Christopher sail from Cadiz; the sovereigns deeming Palos too small a port for the equipment of so great an enterprise. You may depend on what I tell ye, good neighbors; my husband, as you all well know, holding an appointment in the admiral's own ship."

"You are to be envied, neighbor, that he is in so good repute with so great a man!"

"How could he be otherwise, seeing that he was with him before, when few had courage to be his companions, and was ever faithful to his orders. 'Monica' – nay, it was 'good Monica' – said the admiral to me, with his own mouth, 'thy Pepe is a true-hearted mariner, and hath conducted to my entire satisfaction. He shall be made the boatswain of my own carrack, and thou, and thy posterity, to the latest antiquity, may boast that you belong to so good a man.' These were his words; and what he said, he did – Pepe being now a boatswain. But the paters and aves that I said to reach this good fortune, would pave this beach!"

Luis now stepped forward and saluted the party, making curiosity to know the particulars of the first departure, his excuse. As he expected, Monica did not recognize him in his present rich attire, and she willingly related all she knew, and not a little more. The interview showed how completely this woman had passed from despair to exultation, reducing the general and more public change of sentiment, down to the individual example of a particular case.

"I have heard much of one Pinzon," added Luis, "who went forth as pilot of a caravel in the voyage; what hath become of him?"

"Señor, he is dead!" answered a dozen voices, Monica's, however, so far getting the ascendency, as to tell the story. "He was once a great man in this quarter; but now his name is lost, like his life. He was untrue, and died of grief, it is said, when he found the Niña lying in the river, when he expected to have had all the glory to himself."

Luis had been too much engrossed with his own feelings to have heard this news before, and he continued his walk, musing and sad.

"So much for unlawful hopes, and designs that God doth not favor!" he exclaimed, when they had walked a considerable distance. "Providence hath, I think, been of the admiral's side; and certainly, my love, it hath been of mine."

"This is Santa Clara," observed Mercedes. "Luis, I would enter, and return a thanksgiving at its altars for thy safety and return, and offer a prayer for the future success of Don Christopher."

They both entered the church, and they knelt together at the principal altar; for, in that age, the bravest warriors were not as much ashamed, as in our own times, of publicly acknowledging their gratitude to, and their dependence on God. This duty performed, the happy pair returned silently to the beach, and went off to the felucca.

Early in the morning, the Ozema sailed for Malaga again, Luis being fearful he might be recognized if he continued at Palos. Their port was reached in safety; and shortly after the party arrived at Valverde, the principal estate of Mercedes, where we shall leave our hero and heroine in the enjoyment of a felicity that was as great as could be produced by the connection between manly tenderness on one side, and purity of feeling and disinterested womanly love on the other.

At a late day, there were other Luis de Bobadillas in Spain, among her gallant and noble, and other Mercedes', to cause the hearts of the gay and aspiring to ache; but there was only one Ozema. She appeared at court, in the succeeding reign, and, for a time, blazed like a star that had just risen in a pure atmosphere. Her career, however, was short, dying young and lamented; since which time, the name itself has perished. It is, in part, owing to these circumstances, that we have been obliged to drag so much of our legend from the lost records of that eventful period.