FROM CORDOVA TO CATHAY.

crackled and leaped in the huge chimney throat, we were warmed to our very
hearts. After the rain had ceased, and while the sun was struggling fiercely
with the clouds, we ate our dinner in the corridor, which ran around a court or
patio open to the sky. This court was filled with flowers; vines crept up the
pilars; figs and oranges had possessed themselves of space enough for luxuriant
growth. From it many cloisters opened out, but there was one, still farther in,
where the chamber-cells of the monks were very numerous. Off at one side is
the chapel where it is said Columbus knelt in prayer, and on the opposite side
a passage leads to the refectory, where the stone benches on which the good
monks sat are empty and chill.

Climbing a narrow stairway, you come to a corner room overlooking the
Rio Tinto —a large square room, with floor of earthen tiles and ceiling of cedar,
with dark beams overhead. This is the “ Columbus Room,” where the great
Admiral, the Prior and the learned Doctor held the famous consultation which
resulted in the monk’s intercession with Isabella. Many a painting has repre-
sented this historic scene, perhaps none more faithfully than the one hung in
the room itself. An immense table — old, but sturdy still, and around which the
great men are said to have gathered — oécupies the center of the room, and on it
is the ¢intero, or inkstand, said to have been used by them. Around the wall
are hung several excellent pictures: one representing the discovery of land, one
showing Columbus at the convent gate, another the consultation, the embark-
ation at Palos, the publication of the king’s commands, and the final departure.

I wonder if the old monks of the days gone by enjoyed, as I did, the seclusion
of the place and the sunset view from the mirador? In pleasant weather, when
the hot sun shines, it must be supremely attractive to one sitting in the shade
and looking forth upon the sea. Drowsy insects hum outside, the half-sup-
pressed noises of maritime life float in on the breeze, and lively swallows fly in
and out, twittering to one another as they seek their nests. Ah! pleasant
mirador, overlooking the historic Rio Tinto and the sea. The view afforded
here comprises the scenes attendant upon the momentous departure. Right
before us, on the Domingo Rubio, it was, that Columbus careened his vessels
and took aboard his stores, just before setting sail; somewhere near the mole -
he took his final farewell of the good prior, the last, best friend he had in
Spain; and beyond the sand-spits glimmer the breakers on the Bar of Saltes.

Down the stream, beyond the Tinto, glide lateen-sails toward the bar the
sailors crossed in 1492. Don Cristobal went down to engage passage for me in
a mystick, or little sloop, that was lading with ballast at the river bank, and
soon I followed him to the mole, where a carabinero rowed me across the inlet.
It was on, or near, this very spot that Columbus cleared for his voyage ; and
what thoughts filled my mind as I tarried here! But not a thought had the
men for aught save their sand, which they would take to Huelva and sell for
ballast. If I would wait I was welcome to a passage; but they thought that by