After an absence of five years Philip II at last returned to Spain and disembarked at Laredo on the 8th of September, 1559. Six days later he made his entry into Valladolid, and the following day his sister Princess Juana made over to him the government of the kingdom, and retired to the convent of Abrojo, about a league away. She and Philip were not long separated, as on the 21st, the first anniversary of the Emperor's death, he caused solemn services for the eternal repose of the Emperor's soul to be celebrated in the same convent.
Meanwhile Luis Quijada awaited at Villagarcia with real anxiety the King's promised decision about Jeromín, which would so much affect the whole family. But the King settled nothing, and the former steward, accustomed to the promptness of the Emperor, who with the inspiration of genius saw, ordered, thought and resolved all in a second, that which more common intelligence would require months to decide, began to despair and could not reconcile himself to D. Philip's slow parsimony.
Philip, however, had not forgotten his brother, as is proved by the famous state council of which Antonio Pérez speaks in one of his letters to Gil de Mesa: "That they were so divided, having taken sides on the subject, these great councillors, each to his own end, but with arguments about the service of the King, whether the Catholic King Philip ought to follow his father's wish about the position of his brother." This last an invention, no doubt, of the crafty secretary Pérez, as none of the councillors, much less Philip II, could quibble in any way about what the Emperor had not counselled but ordered in his will with regard to his bastard son.
At last Luis Quijada received a message from the King ordering him to go to the mountain of Torozos on the 28th of September, making hunting the excuse, and taking Jeromín with him, dressed as usual like a peasant; that they were to go towards the monastery of the Espina, and that about midday he would meet them between the monastery and the forester's tower. He also told Quijada to say nothing to the child to enlighten him, as he wished to do this himself.
What generally happens befell Luis Quijada: the realisation of that which we have most desired fills us with sadness and disappointment. Certainly for him had come the hour of reward, for the Emperor, who was never very generous, had not granted him any favour, leaving only the recommendation to his son to pay, in his name, this very real debt. But at the same time had come the hour for separating from Jeromín, and tearing him from Do?a Magdalena who adored him, while as for himself, he had become accustomed to seeing the boy the object of his affection and care, and the living recollection of the Emperor, reincarnate in this attractive little figure, capable for this reason alone of winning all hearts. At this thought the eyes of the fierce victor of Hesdin filled with tears.
At first he thought to spare Do?a Magdalena this sorrow until the last moment; but men are weak about troubles, and as in other things they trust proudly to themselves, so in sorrow they seek the aid of a woman, weaker than they are in everything but suffering, because they more often seek the virtue of fortitude from God. So not even until night could Quijada wait, but that same afternoon he called Do?a Magdalena to a retired spot, and there told her everything about Jeromín, from the moment that the Emperor had revealed to him the secret of his birth. The husband and wife had never talked about this, and they might well wonder at each other, she at his loyalty and abnegation, which had kept him silent about so weighty a secret; he, at her prudence and delicacy in asking no questions, nor investigating that which had so much mortified her. Do?a Magdalena did not think of herself for a moment. She well understood everything, and knew how to estimate everything from its true point of view, but one thing only filled her heart with fear—Jeromín, her dear son, for so she considered him, at thirteen was going to experience one of those sudden changes of fortune which are enough to turn the wisest head. That in a few days the child would find himself at the height of fortune, but exiled from all affection, alone, envied, and perhaps envious, without her to defend the youthful soul, as in his childhood she had done against bad natural inclinations and vexations of vice and sin.
Do?a Magdalena had no sudden inspirations of genius, but she had good ideas, and she proposed to Quijada without a moment's hesitation not to abandon the boy, but to follow him to Madrid, sacrificing her quiet life at Villagarcia in exchange for looking after him if only from afar, and not to leave him suddenly and so young among the tumult and dangers of a Court. Quijada thought that his wife had guessed what was passing in his mind, as it was what he had himself been considering; but it seemed idle to make any decided plans until they knew those of the King for Jeromín and for the person of Quijada himself.
Hunting expeditions were too frequent at Villagarcia for the simple preparations that Quijada ordered for the 28th of September at Torozos to call for much attention from Jeromín. Quijada wished to arrange everything well and prevent the eleventh-hour inconveniences which sometimes spoil the best-laid plot. He called his huntsman aside, and ordered him to prepare two or three beats the first thing the next morning, and real or false scents to draw them towards the monastery of the Espinas, as he was obliged to be between the convent and the forester's tower at midday.
At dawn Quijada and Jeromín set out, with no more than the necessary huntsmen and hounds. Jeromín was riding a black horse, and wore over his peasant's dress a loose coat of green "monte." They hunted until ten o'clock, having very good sport, and at that hour the huntsman announced that the hounds were on the scent of a stag heading towards Espina. Quijada and Jeromín followed penetrating into the country, which became more and more solitary, until the hounds suddenly stopped breathless and, questing about as if they had lost the scent, then started off on a cross scent on the opposite side. At the same time, from that direction came the sound of horns and a great noise of calling and shouting, and like an arrow a noble stag was seen passing between the ilex trees, another excited pack of hounds, and a lot of hunters who were following.
Luis Quijada sat still on his horse, and said to Jeromín, who was attentively looking at the disappearing hunters, "Those are the King's huntsmen. Let us leave them the mountain." So they then changed their course towards an open space which had been made by the felling of some oaks, and to the right they saw the forester's tower, and to the left the walls of the convent, and between the two edifices a spinney of about a hundred oak trees, which had been left to afford shade for the animals called "atalayas." From these trees came two gentlemen, riding slowly as if they were waiting for something, or were talking quietly.
Jeromín saw them first, and called Quijada's attention to them while they continued riding towards them as if he intended to meet them. Suddenly Jeromín stopped short; he had recognised in one of the riders the man with a hooked nose and long beard whom he had seen in the garden of the Descalzos in Valladolid five years before.
Quijada also stopped, and turning in the saddle towards Jeromín, who remained behind him, said with a certain emotion foreign to the calm man, "Come up, Jeromín, and do not let this dismay you. The great lord whom you see is the King; the other the Duque de Alba. Do not be frightened, I say, because he wishes you well and intends to confer favours on you."
The two riders had come up, followed at a long distance by two others who appeared to be huntsmen belonging to the convent. Jeromín had no time to answer; but he recognised in the King the fair, pale young man with the beard cut in the Flemish fashion whom he had seen cross the square of Valladolid, among the shouts of the people, when he looked from the rose window of the sacristy of the Descalzos. The five years that had since passed had, without ageing him, given gravity to his face and repose to his manners. D. Philip was at this time thirty-two.
Those from Villagarcia alighted and went to kiss the King's hand, kneeling on one knee. The King stretched out his hand to Quijada without dismounting; but Jeromín was so small that he could not accomplish this part of the ceremony in this humble posture. So the King dismounted and, laughing gaily, gave him his hand to kiss, and taking Jeromín by the chin, looked at him up and down for a long time with great curiosity, as if he would embarrass the boy. But he did not succeed, however; nor was Jeromín the timid, frightened child who had gone to Yuste, nor had D. Philip ever for him the halo of the su............