The other members, mostly ecclesiastics of the same type as Talavera, were ready to follow him, and the news was taken to the Sovereigns. ‘The commission has questioned Cristobal Colon; they have weighed up the possibilities of success and have found them wanting. It would be quite impracticable to finance such a fantastic voyage which, it is the considered opinion of the commission, could only end in failure.’

Beatriz de Bobadilla put aside her decorum and stormed into the Queen’s apartment.

‘That fool Talavera!’ she cried. ‘So he has turned you against this adventurer.’

‘Beatriz!’ Isabella exclaimed in pained surprise.

Beatriz’s answer was to fling herself at Isabella’s feet. ‘Highness, I believe he should be given a chance.’

‘My dear friend,’ said Isabella, ‘what can you know about this? A commission of learned men has decided that it would be a waste of money we need so badly to finance this man’s expedition.’

‘A commission of idiots!’ cried Beatriz.

‘Beatriz, my dear, I suggest you retire and calm yourself,’ said Isabella quietly and firmly, in that tone which implied that immediate obedience was expected.

When Beatriz had left, the Cardinal of Mendoza arrived.

‘Highness,’ he said, ‘I have come to tell you that I am not in entire agreement with the findings of the commission.’

‘You mean you have given way to Talavera?’

‘I felt the bulk of opinion against me, Highness. May I tell you exactly what I feel?’

‘That I expect you to tell me.’

‘I feel this, Highness. It may well be an impracticable dream, but it is equally certain that it may not be. If we dismiss this man he will go to another country . . . probably France or England. I ask Your Highness to consider what would happen if the King of France or England provided this man with what he asks. If he were successful, if he discovered a world of great riches for them . . . instead of for us . . . our position would be changed considerably. That is what I wish to avoid.’

‘But, my dear Cardinal, the commission does not believe this voyage would be a success.’

‘The commission is largely composed of ecclesiastics, Highness.’

‘Of whom you are one!’

‘I am also a statesman; and I beg Your Highness to consider the possibility of the man’s discoveries passing into hands other than your own.’

‘Thank you, Cardinal,’ she said. ‘I will consider this.’

Cristobal Colon was summoned once more to the presence of the Sovereigns.

Ferdinand was delighted.

‘I knew,’ he told Isabella, ‘that the man was a fanatic, from the moment I saw him. Three carvels! Men to man them! He asked us to provide these that we may waste our substance. So the commission has proved me right.’

‘There were a few voices raised in opposition,’ Isabella reminded him.

‘The majority saw through my eyes,’ retorted Ferdinand.

Isabella said softly: ‘Ferdinand, can you visualise the riches that may exist in lands as yet undiscovered?’

Ferdinand was silent for a few moments; then he snapped his fingers. ‘Better to seek to regain the riches which we have lost than look for those which may not even exist. There are riches within Granada which we know to exist. Let us make sure of the substance before we seek to grasp the shadow.’

Talavera and Mendoza arrived with the members of the commission, and news was brought that Cristobal Colon had arrived at the Palace and was seeking audience with the Sovereigns.

‘Let him be brought to us at once,’ said Isabella.

Cristobal came in. With the air of a visiting king he bowed before the Sovereigns. His eyes were alight with fervour. He could not believe that they would be so foolish as to deny him the money he asked, in exchange for which he would bring them great riches.

‘The commission has given us its answer concerning your project,’ said Isabella slowly.

He lifted those brilliant blue eyes to her face and she felt herself soften towards him. When he stood before her thus he could make her believe in his promises. She understood why he had produced the effect he had on Beatriz and Mendoza.

She said gently: ‘At this time we are greatly occupied with a grievous war; and it is for this reason that we find ourselves unable to embark on this new undertaking.’

She saw the light die out of his eyes. She saw the droop of his shoulders; she saw the frustration on his face, and she went on quickly: ‘When our war is won, Senor Colon, we shall be ready to treat with you.’

He did not answer. He was not aware of the amazement in Talavera’s eyes, of the triumph in Mendoza’s. He only knew that once again he had been bitterly disappointed.

He bowed and left the presence of the Sovereigns.

It was Beatriz de Arana who comforted him.

‘At least,’ she said, ‘they have promised to do something.’

‘My dear,’ he answered, ‘I have heard such promises before. They come to nothing.’

She told him then that she could not understand her feelings. She wept because she loved him and she could not bear to see his bitter disappointment; yet how could she help but rejoice that he was left to her a little longer!

But even as she spoke she saw the speculation in his eyes.

She knew he was wondering whether he might not find more sympathy at the Court of France.

Yet he turned to her and caressed her, and he too would have been sad if they had to part. But she understood. This dream of a great voyage was a part of himself; it must come to fruition. He had parted with his beloved son, Diego, for its sake. So would he part from Beatriz if and when the time should come.

There was at least this respite, she told herself; and as she felt his hands stroking her hair, she knew that all the comfort he could feel at this moment must come from her.

There was a visitor to the little house, and Beatriz ushered him in and called to Cristobal.

Beatriz left the two men together.

‘Let me introduce myself,’ said the man. ‘I am Luis de Sant’angel and I am the Secretary of Supplies in Aragon to King Ferdinand.’

‘I am glad to know you,’ said Cristobal, ‘but what can your business be with me?’

‘I come to tell you that you have friends at Court; there are many of us who believe in your enterprise and are going to do our utmost to persuade the Sovereigns to support you.’

Cristobal smiled wanly. ‘I thank you. And if I seem ungrateful, let me tell you that for many years I have sought to make this journey, and again and again I have suffered the same frustration. I have had friends at Court, but they have not been able to persuade my detractors that I can achieve what I say I can.’

‘Do not despair. Let me tell you, Senor Colon, that you have friends in very high places. The great Cardinal Mendoza believes you should be given a chance. And he is said to be the most important man at Court, and to wield great influence over the Queen. Fray Diego de Deza, who is tutor to the Prince Don Juan, is also in your favour. And there is one other – a lady of great power. You see, Senor, you have your friends and supporters.’

‘I rejoice to hear this, but I would rejoice more if I might be allowed to fit out my carvels and make my plans.’

‘Come to the Palace this day. We have news for you.’

He left shortly afterwards, and Cristobal hurried to tell Beatrix what had happened.

She stood at the window watching him as he left for the Palace; there was a spring in his step. The Aragonese Jew, Luis de Sant’angel, had revived his hopes.

Beatriz turned hurriedly away from the window.