“And you were hearing about the discovery of Madeira?”

“Ay, Senhor,” Beatriz answered with demure dignity.

“I live not very far from that island.  It seems like living on the western edge of the world.”

“Senhor,” asked Fernao with sudden daring, “what is beyond the edge of the world?”

“There is no edge, my boy.  The world is round—­like an orange."[2]

In all their fancies they had never thought of such a thing as that.  Beatriz looked at the tall man with silent amazement, and Fernao looked as if he would like to ask who could prove the statement.  The stranger’s smile was amused but quite comprehending, as if he was not at all surprised that they should doubt him.

“See,” he went on, taking an orange from the basket that stood by, “suppose this little depression where the stem lost its hold to be Jerusalem, the center of our world; then this is Portugal—­” he traced with the point of a penknife the outline of the great western peninsula.  “Here you see are the capes—­Saint Vincent, Finisterre, the great rock the Arabs call Geber-al-Tarif—­the Mediterranean—­the northern coast of Africa—­so.  Beyond are Arabia and India, and the Spice Islands which we do not know all about—­then Cathay, where Marco Polo visited the Great Khan—­you have heard of that?  Yes?  On the eastern and southern shore of Cathay is a great sea in which are many islands—­Cipangu here, and to the south Java Major and Java Minor.  We are told in the Book of Esdras that six parts of the earth are land and one part water, so here we cut away the skin where there is any sea,—­”

The miniature globe took form, like fairy mapmaking, under the cosmographer’s skilful fingers, and the children watched, fascinated.

[Illustration:  “THE MINIATURE GLOBE TOOK FORM AS THE CHILDREN WATCHED, FASCINATED.”—­Page 44]

“But,” cried Beatriz wonderingly, “a ship could sail around the world!”

Colombo nodded and smiled.  “So it was written in the ’Travels of Sir John Maundeville’ more than a hundred years ago.  But no ship has done so.”

“Why not?” asked Fernao.

“Chiefly, perhaps, because of tales like that of the Sea of Darkness and Satan’s hand.  And it is true that a ship venturing very far westward is drawn out of its course, as if the earth were not a perfect round, but sloped upward to the south.  My own belief is,”—­he seemed for a moment to forget that he was talking to children, “that it is not perfectly round, but somewhat like this pear,—­” he selected a short chubby pear from the basket, “and that on this mountain may be a cool and lovely region which was once Paradise.”

“Oh!” cried Beatriz, her face alight with the glory of the thought.  The geographer smiled at her and went on.

“Also you see that the ocean is on this side of the earth very much greater than the Mediterranean.  We do not know how long it would take to cross it.  I have lately received a map from the famous Florentine Toscanelli which—­ah!” he interrupted himself, “here comes our good friend Master Serrao.”