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THE PHANTOM KNIGHTS.

A TA_LE OF CI-IIV7ALRY.

 

 

BY CAPT. FREDERICK WHITTAKER,

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The Phantom Knights.

a TALE OF CHIVALRY.

BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER,

AUTHOR or “same, KING or run mars,”
“IRISH CAPTAIN,” “ nan RUDIGER,” arc.

PROLOGUE.

WHAT is that?

A dim shadow seems to be creeping over the
valley, and the fierce sun fad‘es slowl into a
fiery red bell in the heavens, as a lit 1e black
cloud makes its appearance on the horizon.

A hollow moaning sound becomes faintly au-
dible in the mountains. presage of the deadly
sirocco, borne in from the wastes of the Sahara,
bringing lightning and destruction in its train.

Now, while the light is changed to dimness,
while the freaks of the mirage are most bewil-
dering,- two moving figures Seem to sha them-
selves into existence and advance into t 6 heart
of the valley. Are they real or phantoms?

Silently as spirits they come, in the simili-
tude of two armed knights, point for point
alike. Horses and riders are alike ‘gray and
misty, with the hue of a curling smoke-wreath,
seen against the background of ellow plain
and dark mountain._ The outlines their fl res
tremble as if they, too, were creations o the
mirage, and no sound comes from the footfalls
of their horses as they glide forward through
the hostly shimmer of he haze.

ld legends of specters and apgaritions start
unbidden to the spectator’s min as the Phan—
tom Knights ride on through the arid valley.

Who are they, and what can they be, that
thus intrude into a realm that even the crows
have deserted?

Dimmer and dimmer grows the violet ban of
the threatening sirocco, hotter and better the
air of the valley, as the Phantom Knights ride

 

on.

The vultures in the sky have ceased to circle;
they hover motionless in the upper air; yet still
the Phantom Knights advance.

The lizards have crept to their holes in the
rocks; the wild cats have vanished up the fur-
rowed peaks 0 the mountains; yet still the
Phantom Knights ride on.

The stillness has become op ressive; the gloom
more unearthly; the parched) earth a wider
than ever in its myriad seams; yet the hantom
Kni hts ride on.

A last they meet in the midst of the valley.

Meet b the bleachin skeleton and vanished
pool. th and the antom Knights have
come together. ‘

Phantoms'or living beings, the meeting is evi-
dently unwelcome and unexpected.

Silently as ever, but as if moved by one im-
pulse, the Phantom Knights start aside and
stare at each other like spirits meeting in the
void of space.

Horse and rider, real or unreal, there they
pause for a moment, while the vapors of the
mirage curl around them in a strange and fan-
tastic picture.

Point for point alike, sheathed in gray gleam-
ing mail from head to foot, their pale faces set
and stern, fierce eyes glaring at each other,
their chargers of the same dim and spectral hue,
the Phantom Knights confront each other.

Then, as if moved by a single impulse, with

‘ the ferocity of a hate that lives beyond the
‘ grave, they rush forward with bare weapons

and close in desperate strife.

A myste of eight hundred years ago, a wild
legend of oer and Spaniard, the stor of the
Phantom Knights is still told with bate breath
by the Castilian shepherd, as he sits by his cot-
tage hearth.

 

CHAPTER I.
run: HAYDEN mum's.
WHEN the Moors ruled over Sgain the Chris-
cipalities that
could hardly be called king oms.

U in the northwest corner of the uinsula
nex to the Bay of Biscay, lay the litt e state of
Leon, a $2011!) of peasants and knights hiding
among mountains.

Next to them on the slqpes of the aliprenees,
stood the petty kin dom o Navarre, c ed after
“Nave,” the Got ic word for “ u clearin ,”
when it wasa mere meadow hcwn out of t e
forests.

Next on the east came the free confederation
of the nobles of Arragon, who sat in the Cortes
and yielded but a nominal obedience to their

kin . .

list nextto the Moorish border, in front of
Leon, lay the dominion of the bravest lord of
all. It was the “Land of Castles,” its border
studded with rock- rched fortresses. frowning
defiance on the oslem, and glorying in the
proud name “ Castile."

Ri ht up to the borders of Castile stretched
the somimons of the Caliph Haschem who
dreamed away his days and nights amid the
gardens of Cordova, and left war and peace
alike to the great vizier, Al Mansour, The In-
vincible."

 

The Phantom 

He did well in this, for Al Mansour had de-

served his title. He had harried the Christians
everywhere penetrating to the ve waters of
the ocean; had ri ed the shrine 0 St. Iago of

Com tella, and had made the name of Moslezh
drea ed from the Straits to the Pyrenees.

Still A1 Mansour, with all his forays, had not
pushed his masters settled dominions beyond
the borders of the Land of Castles. The pol-
ished and luxurious Moor saw nothing in the
rugged mountains to tem t him to remain there.
-The Moslem had all of pain that was worth
keeping, and had turned the country into a
blooming garden, studded with rich cities:

On the borders of the Land of Castles in the
days of Al Mansour, a yo knight shabbily
equipped in rusty armor an folloWed by his
squire, rode out from a wild, pass in the hills
and saw before him the t plains of Toledo,
glittering in the sun wit its maze of irrigating
can

The smiling green meadows and darker ver-
dure of the groves and orchards; the fieecy
white of the cotton-fields, where the plants
were just bursting their pods; the drooping
leaves of the alms and the dark foliage of the
olives; the w ite walls of Toledo; the domes
and minarets that soared s ard from amon
the gardens of the city; all t ese objects form
an enchanting picture to one who had but ust

emerged from the sterile passes of the Lan of :

Castles.

The young knight drew rein and azed on the
prospect for some moments in Si ence; then
gave a heavy sigh as he remarked:

“Ah, Pepito, is it not a shame to all true
Christian knights that these Infldels should pos-
sess this fair land; while we, who hold the true
faith, slink in holes amon the rocks? Now by
my vows of kni hthood
of my mind. e would sweep the Moors into
the sea.”

The SQuire whom he addressed was a very
diflerent rson from his master.

The kn ght was tall, handsome and fair hair-
ed, the squire short, sturdy, and very dark.
The knight’s.smooth face and blue eyes were a

eat contrast to the brilliant black eyes and
s rt curling beard of the stout squire. The
kni ht seemed full of enthusiasm and melan-
cho y; the squire had a perpetual laugh on his
broad honest face.

Now he grinned humorously as he answered
his master 3 complaint. _

“ The Moors are rude fellow, master. They
will not gointo the sea to oblige St. I and
the Holy Vir 11. Faith, I’m not so sure t Al
Mansour wou d beat us if we tried this sweeping
business.”

"Never, Pepito, never; unless all our knight-
hood were 'one. He might kill us, but our
bodies woul stay here, and the blood of the
martyrs must prevail in the end.”

Pepito grinned again.

“ l have seen a living dog bark at a dead lion
and I thought that the dog had the best of it,
master."

The young knight frowned‘as he answered
impatiently: '

‘ Thou speakest like the clod thou art. The
vows and pains of our glorious kni hthood are
not for such as thee. But oh, Pep to, I would
now that some glorious adventure would come to
hand. I have donned the golden spurs, but I
have not iven them their baptism of blood. I
am not yeg worthv to be called a true cavalier. ”

Pe ito shrugged his broad shoulders. .

“ 'lehe knight makes the spurs red; the squire
cleans them. I am content without adventures,
good master.” .

“Then whgr camest thou with me, Pepito?
Thou kifiosweii I seekdacl; seated of” perils, for the

lor o t. aoan ur . _
8 “ scenes I Em a fool, and {scenes I used to
nurse your worship as a child.” returned the
squire. “ We shall have adventures soon
can b my master for here we are on the
Moouifish border, an onder comes a troop of

, the Infidels that will give you all the blows your

worship can desire.” . .

The young knight eagerly looked in the direc-
tion indicated, and saw, as the squire had said,
a small troo of armed Moors comingfrom an-
other pass tgat debouched into the plain below,
on the broad hi hway from Burgos to Toledo,
a remnant of 01 Roman times.

There .were about a dozen men on horseback,
glittering in steel, and Wearing flutteringscarfs
of fllk and gold; while a lon proccssion of
mule litters followed them, con noted by black
slaves on foot.

would that all were ‘

 

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' zales!

At the head of the whole procession rode a 
dark slender Arab cavalier, whose glossy pomt- .

ed beard and rich armor proclaimed him a
dandy of the Moslem army. _

No sooner did the young knight see this troop
than he turned to Fe ito and handed him the
light traveling cap wh ch he were, saying:

‘Give me my helmet, Pepito. I will accost

these miscreants, and we will have an adven- .

ture by the favor of St. Iago.”
“ Good master, are
squire, amazedly.
are enough of hose Moors to cut a
tian all to pieces, be he ever so g
“Not all the Moors A1 Mansour can muster

00d Chris

)
.r'i

a knights; a

on mad?” exclaimed the 
“ now you not that there a

can awe the courage of a true knight ” was the
proud reply. “Give me my helmet, T to.”

“ But, my master, consider, there peace
between Castile and the Moor,” urged Pepito
who had not thought that his master would
seriousl undertake the mad adventure. '
But t e wild unreasoning sfish'it of chivalry
was u and the knight would ' ten to nothing.

“ Give me the helmet,” he repeated obstinate-
ly.. “Gonzalo Gonzales is a knight; and a
knight holds no peace with Infidels.”

Pepito sh ged his shoulders in a manner
that implied unwilling resignation and handed
his {21mg master the helmet he had been carry-
in fore him on a steady old mule.

oung Gonzalo fastened the laces, and then
rode forward, and taking the trot so as to be

first to reach the junction of. the highway on

which the Moorish cavalcade was enterin . He
was followed at .a respectful distance by fiepitn,
grumbling to himsel . The squire, it must be
said in his favor, had no defensive armor, and
was therefore apparently in no condition to
cope With a num r of enemies. He was dressed
in the rude costume of a Spanish peasant soldier
of the day; a leathern cap, a frock‘of leather

irt with a re , and sandals of leather. He

re no shiel ,and his onl weapons were a
long spear and a huge knife. As seen as he
saw that his master was seriously bent on fight-
ing, he dismounted from his gray mule and fol—
lowed the knight on foot, carrying his spear On
his shoulder.

In the mean time the young knight rode
boldl on to intercept the Moorish procession,
whic advanced trauquilly along the highway.
Within a quarter of an hour they were within
hailing distance of each other; when the Chris-
tian threw forward his lance, aned it in the air,
and cried out:

“Stay thy course misbelievin Moor! I am
Don Gonzalo Gonzales, who de es all followers
of Mohammed. Whither tthoui"
~ The Moorish chief invo untarily checked his
horse to listen. and the procession sto ped.

When Don Gonzalo had finished, t e Moslem
smiled slightly as he remarked to one of his
compfimons;

“ is must be one of those mad kn' is
of whom we have heard, Sidi Abd Al ah.
We must not kill him, for that is against the

What shall we do, think‘
est then?"

He spoke to a gra -bearded Moor whose
scarred face bespoke t e old soldier, and who
answered:

“ I would go forWand, Aben Amar, and warn
this madman to give us free passage with the
Maiden Tribute. If he attacks us and gets
killed, it will not be our fault."

Aben Amar nodded his head and resumed his
way, without noticinglthe knight’s summons.

But Gonzalo, who ad watched him keenly,
now sudden}; closed his visor, couched his
lance, and r e straight at the Moor.

Aben Amar saw him coming, and at once put

urs to his hi h-bred Arabian horse, which
gamed on a ban gallop to me at the knight.

The Christian’s horse was a tall, powerful
beast and the rider was sheathed in steel from
head to foot while the Moslem had but a light
steel cap an . tunic of mail, his limbs being haze
of armor.

The contest between the two seemed to be so
clearly unequal that no one would have won-
dered to see the Moor spitted on the Christian’s
8300.

Nevertheless it was not to be.

Just as they met, Aben Amar, with a touch
of the spur and rein, made his trained charger
spring to one side and Gonzalo thundeiui
harm essl by, the floor saluting him with a

taunting ugh.

That aug however was changed the next
minute into a or? of surprised alarm Gonzalo
kept his course ike an arrow at full speed, and
dashed into the midst of the escort as they rode

r.

e are the Moors could scatter according to
their manner of war, the heavy Christian lance
hagrpierced the foremost through and through,
be ng him over his horse’s croup so far that
the pomt of the weapon actually struck the
lbreaizt of the next man behind, and entered his

ear .

Then Don Gonzalo threw aside the clogged
WMPOl. drew his long, straight sword, and
began to lay about him in a lusty fashion. all
the time shouting:

“St. Iago for Castile! Our Lady for Gon-
Down with the Infidels!" .

For a moment the Moors were paralyzed with
astonishment at the mad assault, and then they
turned on the Christian champion and attacked
him furiously, ' .

But here they gave the tall knight the ad
vantage. Their slender frames and light horses
were no match for his sincwey limbs and strong
if clumsy horse; and confidence in their num-
hers alone made them choose such a way of at-
tack.

His great charger wheeled ?d plunged about
in the close fight, dashing th slight Arabians
aside like suckin foals, while the long, heavy
sword of ' the knight beat down buckler and
guard with ease.

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In less than a minute Don Gonzalo had cut
dawn Sidi Abd Allah and four other Moors
and the rest began to scatter in terror and
amazement. Their panic was completed a
moment later, when Pepito the uire, who
had been unnoticed in the fray, sud enl made
his appearance and began to stab the. _ oors in
the back, with quick, short thrusts of his spear,
before any one could sto him. .

Then indeed the few oslems that remained
lost heart and turned to flee, calling out:

“The Almogavars are coming!’ _

They had recognized in the squire one of
those terrible Almo avars, the forerunners of
the famous Spanish infantr of after times, men
who never gave back, an who could not be
slain save from afar. . .

Thus it happened than in less than three mm-
utes two men had scattered a dozen, before
Aben Amar could collect his senses and think
what to do.

But no sooner did the Moors begin to flee than
their leader galloped after them, shouting to
them to stop, and they were too much accus-
tomed to his voice not to obey it. _

They paused and collected ina oup With
Aben Amar, at a little distance, while the two
Christians were con tulating themselves on
their easy victory. s for the slaves with the
mulelitters, they had taken the attitude of non-
combatants, all the world over, huddling in
terror, and ready to 0 over to the victorious
side, whichever it  t be.

“ Well, Pepito, we ave beaten the accursed
unbelievers,’ cried Don Gonzalo cheerfully.

“Ay, ay,” was the rather grufl reply. “I
always was a fool, as my master knows. Now
we’ve broken the truce and made enemies of all
we meet. We may as well go on, and find who
are in those litters. I misdoubt me ’tis the
Maiden Tribute; and if so, ’tis a bad day’s work
for us.”

“The Maiden Tribute! What mean’st thou,
Pepito?"

“Your worship shall soon see,” was the dry
answer, as the squire pointed to the nearest
litter.

Gonzalo dismounted from his horse and ap-
proached the equipago, then and now common
in S in.

Apgody like that of a modern barouche, but
more highly ornamented, was swung on shafts
between two mules, with silk curtains in place
of windows.

As Gonzalo ap roached the litter, these cur-
tains rted, an a girl looked forth and said:

“ Orsir knight, as thou art a good cavalier,
rescue a diam-eased damsel from the power of
the Moor.” .

Before Gonzalo could answer he heard a loud

warning cr from Aben Aniar who had rallied
his up 0 Moors within hail dktance.
“ ware what thou doest, ' tian. Pro-

fane not the harem of the successor of the
Pro het. These are the Maiden Tribute, sent
by t ine own kin to Cordova.” .

“ What means el” asked the young knight,
amazedly. _

"He means that in these litters are twenty
noble maidens of Christian blood, tamer given
up as a tribu e to the Caliph Haschem fly the
kin of Leon,” answered the girl who h just

s en. .
pg‘ronzalo started and his blue eyes flashed.

“ A tribute to the Saracen l” he cried.
“Christian maidens to swell the harem of a
misbelieviug Moorl Now b the lory of the
blessed Virgin this shall not ! I, n Gonzalo
Gonzalez, will rescue ye from the Meor. Ye
shall all 0 back home in.”

“Oh t anks, most nob e knight,” was the de-
lighted reply. “Surely it was Heaven that
sent thee to save us.”

Don Gonzalo bowed low before the lady and
respectfully kissed the hand she extended to
him, when Pepito uttered a cry of warmgi.

The knight’s back was turned to the core,
and Aben Amar had suddenly set spurs to his
horse and was coming down at full speed, with
his six remaining com 'ons, all having their
lauces couched. Dcn cnzalo turned to run to
his horse, but it was too late. They would he
on him ere he could reach it. '

Then it was that grumbling Pepito showed
what he could do against an armed horseman.
In amoment he had stepped forward and firmly

 

awaited the shock, all naked as he was. As he 3

had noticed, Aben Amer was in front of his“

men, and right before him sprung the audacious
mogavar.

grgpdnd un r his foot, the point slanting up.
w .

As Aben Amar came sweeping down, the un-
daunted squire made a stoo forward. lowering
the int of the spear, and

itself and falling headlong, while Aben Amar
was thrown over its head. , ,

In one instant Pepito had dropped his 3 r,
drawn his great knife and stabbed the alien
Moor to the heart, just as the others, a palled
at the sight, faltered, turned, and fled r the
last tithe, deprived of their leader.

“There, my master, I told you I was a fool,

e next moment the ‘
swi t Arabian came on the sharp blade, spitting ‘

meddling in quarrels when I should be lookin
at mic master fight. But methinks ’twoul
have en a bad day for the foolish knight had
not the foolish squire been here.”

This was all that Pepito said as he slowly
pulled out his spear from the fallen horse, and

is remark appeared to nettle his young master,
who inquired:

“Ami whom callest thou a foolish knight,
Pe ito!"

“ Faith, I call him foolish that leaves fighting
while his foes are in the field,” was the dry
answer. “All the knight’s armor could not
kee out the Moor’s lance, had not the fool
squire been here, with his naked breast and his
spit to roast Moors.”

The you knight looked down at the fallen
Moorish lea er and saw the force of his squire’s
words. Bowing to the lady, he retired tohis
horse, and it was not till he had resumed his
lance and mounted his war-steed that he again
approached the ladies’ litters.

CHAPTER II.
THE STAR or connova.

THE Moors had fled. and the two Christians
remained victors of the field; but what were
the spoils?

The heart of Gonzalo heat high as he ap-
proached the train of litters and rode down the
ine, speakin to the fair occupants.

As he had card, this was indeed the Maiden
Tribute exacted by the powerful Al Mansour
every year as the price of immunity for the
kingdom of Leon from the raids of the Moorish
army. A hundred thousand pieces of gold for
the treasury, and twenty beautiful damsels for
the Caliph s harem—heavy as this tribute was
to the sterile state of Leon, the king paid it
rather than lose all he h I .

“But the counts of Gas ile disdain the tribute,”
thought Don Gonzalo, proudly as he heard the
tale from Pepito’s lips; “and am a Castilian.
This tribute must cease, and these maidens must
go back to their homes.”

He rode down the line of litters, and every
curtain was drawn back, while a perfect galaxy
of briih: eyes looked forth on the handsome
young ight, who courteously saluted the cap-

ives and said;

“Fairest damsels, ye are all free from the
chains of these accursed Moors, whom the Vir-
gin confound. I am ready to escort you all to
the nearest Christian castle to hold it for you

ainst all the Moors in Spain.”

ut, much to his surprise, he did not meet
everywhere with the rapturous reception he
had experienced from the first maiden.

More than one looked coldly on him, a few
sneered openly, and one black-eyed- girl saucin
answe him:

“We are truly beholden tothee, sir knight,
for taking awa our guards, and leavin us to
the mercy of t e Alm avar robbers 0 these
savage passes. These ies were quite satisfied
with their lot. Be pleased to ride 03 some-
where and exercise thy wits to better purpose.”

Don Gonzalo was thunderstruck. Brought up
in a lonel mountain fort he had seen no-
thing of t e world till his father knighted him
and sent him abroad to seek lory.

“Is it ‘ 'ble, then, that have offended the
noble la y?” he stammered-

“Thou hast .meddled with what concerned
thee not,” was the sharp answer. “Dost thou
think a kin will go to war with Al Mansour to
please one ht, too poor to mount his squire
on a horse?”

Don Gonzalo flushed crimson.

He was youn enou h to be keenly mortified
at the taunts o a re try girl and he felt that
his rough, half-cla squire did indeed look but a
rude companion for a gentleman.

“NAbcn Amar was a noble and gentle knight,”

ursued black e es: “and that save brute

slain him. - e could play on the ute and
sing sweetly, and he knew all the learning of
Arabia, while thou canst not so much as read."

Gonzalo blushed deeper than eVer, as he stam-
mered:

“But I am a Christian, and he was but a
heathen, sweet lad . I thought that I did well
to rescue distresse damsels.’

“Did they ask to be rescued l” was the puz-
zling question of black eyes. “Who told thee
that we did not prefer the mosques and gardens
ofl Cgrdova to the rocks and wild swine of Cas-
ti e?

Gonzalo drew himself u . It was not possible

 

: for a knight to answer a ady rudely, no matter

It seemed mere foolhardinem, but he stood ,

there, his spear presented. the heel against the ‘
e

 

how she might abuse him: but his voice had a
tone of proud humility, mingled with irrepressi-
ble mortification, as he answered:

“I crave the noble ladies’ pardon, «and will
do whatever they please. Let them signify
their wishes. It is for me to obey them.”

Black eyes smiled more graciously on him as
she said: _ .

“ Help me from this litter, then, sir knight.”

In a moment Gonzalo, forgetting the prudent
counsels of his cautious sq had thrown
down his lance and sprun from his horse,
wheii he assisted the lac -eyed lady to de-
scen r

She was perfectly beautiful in form and fea-
ture, though so small that she seemed little

 

 

more than a child. Her great dark eyes were
like those of an antelo , and her oval face was
aquiiine in contour, ut marvelously delicate
and beautiful. She was rich] dressed in the
Moorish fashion, with a perfect load of gold and
'ewels, in the form of necklaces, ear-rin .

racelets, anklets and fin r-rings, and her vail
was drawn aside for the time.

Gonzalo was so much dazzled by her beauty
that he remained starin wide-eyed at this
little fairy, till she lau h merrily and said:

“ Well, sir knight, set then never seen a
Morisco maiden before? Do I look like one of
those Infidel damsels of whom thou hast heard.
who devour gallant knights and have con-
verse with the Evil One?”

Gonzalo felt a sudden tremor seize his heart
as he looked at this bewitching little creature.
It was as if some one had struck a knife into
him, a keen feeling of physical pain and a fore-
boding of evil to come to him from this Moorish
maiden. Yet it was with a sense of delight and
almost intoxication that he bowed low before
her and answered:

“ I had heard that there were Houris in Para
disc, but I knew not that they came on earth
in our days.”

The girl laughed again in silvery tones and
held out her hand to him, exclaiming, as he knelt
and kissed it deVOutly: '

“ Well done, sir knight. We shall civilize
even you rough men of the mountains in time.
Come, let us see our sisters in trouble.” '

She trip d round on a visit to the different

litters, a very soon all the occupants had de-
scended to the ground and stood in a chattering
group.
Goumlo withdrew to one side in respect~
ful silence, not to interfere with the ladies' de—
liberations; and Fe ito came to his master as
he leaned against h horse and began his usual
grumbling but humorous comments:

“ Now, indeed, are we a pair of fools. master
mine. One woman can send a wise man cra ’
if she will; and here are twenty-one, to do wit
us as seems best to their flightinesses.

“ Twenty, Pepito not twenty-one ” answered

nzalo. “ The tri ute is twenty msels.”

“ There are twenty-one here with the Moor
maiden,” answered the squire,obstinately. “ Un—
less I much mistake, she is not one of the cap
tives, but rather one sent to persuade them into

oing willingly without grieving for their
omes.”

Gonzalo looked more closely at the group of
ladies. He noticed, for the first time, that
there was a mingling of Moslem and Christian
fashions among them, in as great a variety as
the complexions of the wearers, but that the
black-eyed lady was the only pure Morisco
amon them, and that her dress was the most
splen id of all. She seemed, from the way in
which she spoke to the rest and . was addressed
b them, to be a sort of leader, and mostof the
glide seemed to admire her greatly.

The only exception to this rule was the dam-
sel who had first spoken to Don Gonmlo. She ,
remained apart from the rest with a mournful
look on her fees, and Gonzalo noticed that she
almost alone retained the Christian fashion of
dress unaltered.

As he looked at her he also became aware
that there was a certain resemblance between
her and the Morisco maiden in form and fea-
tures. Both were small and slight in figure, '
both had delicate aquiline f tures, but one was
dark, the other fair. The ristian maid had
great, serious blue eyes and long braids of fair

air, that contrasted forcibly with the raven
locks and dark orbs of the beautiful Moslem.

While he was watch: them the gr broke
up, and the Moorish gir came tripping ward
him with a bright, gracious smile on her face
that fairly dazzled him.

“ How say you, sir knight,” she asked play-
fully, “is it not true that you Christian war~
riors are always ready to obey a lady i”

“It is a knight’s duty and pleasure to fight
and die for the fair ” answered Gonzalo, daz-
zled and bewildered, t trying hard to appear
at his ease while a score of retty girls were
smiling furtively at his conf on.

“And why then is it that I see thee with no
lady’s favor in thy helmet?” she asked in the
same half mocking tone. .

“ Because no la ll{lhas defned to take me for
her knight,” was 0 could answer, his
face crimson with modesty; for most of the
girls were tittering.

“ But suppoaing that a lady should take pity
on thee,” pursued the firl saucily, “ who should
insure that thou won] the her true knight .1”

Gonzalo looked at herwith eyes that blazed '

with union The oung k ' ht had met his
fate, and all the t ttering gir s seemed to fade
out of ' lit in an instant. He made one step
forward, '3 hands clas , and fell on one knee
with clanking armor be ore the mocking beauty,
murmuring in tones of earnest 'on:

“ Ob, sweetest lady, I would ose all the world
to bask in th smile. me and see.”

The little ady recoil a step and looked at
him as if she were half ' htoned. The evident;
consuming fervor of the dsome boy pierced
through
love in an instant.

her air of frivolity iind she read his“,

 

 

 

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4;

“ Nay, nay, I did not mean—” she began,
stammering as much as he had done amoment
before and not able to withdraw her eyes.

But here in a moment a bevy of lung ing girls
had pounced on her and led her forward; while
others—saucy creaturesésurrminded the young
knight as he knelt and a dozen sweet voices
cried:

“ Zoraya‘s knight! It shall be so. See what
a noble knight she has found."

And before Zoraya, now crimson in her turn,
could resist, they had half forced her forward
to Gonzalo, and the mischievous girls cried:

" Kiss him, Zoiaya; make him thy knight.”

\s for Gonzalo, 0 did not dare to stir, and
pi sentl he felt the touch of two soft lips on

ll: - fore ead as‘ he closed his eyes, and heard
Zoraya's voice say:

“ I take thee for my true knight by this
token, to do my will against the whole world.
Rise and obey me.”

Then Gonzalo slowly rose to his feet, and saw
that the girls had fallen back to a little dis
tanoe, while Zoraya was smiling on him.

“ Come," she said; “thou art my knight now,
to do my bidding against all the world.
wilt obey?”

-“ Till death,” replied the boy, softly.

“Then duff this stiff and awkward mail of
the Christians, that my sight abhors, and take
to thee the armor of Aben Amar. Thou shalt be
anayc’s knight from this day forth, and shalt
take us to our home in Cordova, for I name thee
All Moudara.”

Gonzalo started and turned pale at her words
as he realized their import.

“ Take you to Cordova! Oh, lady, have pity!

“Remember I am a Christian.”

“ i remember that a true knight never breaks
his word, Ali Moudara," replied Zoraya, in a
firm tone, her face assuming an expression of
sevnrity.

Gonzalo bowed his head till he knelt before
her, and softly kissed the hem of her garment.

“I will obey till death,” he said. '

Then he rose and went to the body of Aben
Amar, which he carried away, assisted by Pepi-
to, who had been lookin on at the scene that
had just transpired wit sundry shrugs and

grins.

The bluff squire had a fund of good-humor
and philoso by that enabled him to bear any
chan e of ortune with equanimity, but be
not restrain his freed om of comment as he
assisted his master, behind a clump of bushes,

I ‘ to change his armor.

“ Here are two fools that do not know their
own mind. master mine. We were Christians
awhile ago, and now we are Maura. ’Tis all
one to Pepito as long as he has wherewithal to
feast. Long livethe Prophet l”

“Theu must ‘not think, Pepito, because I

‘ change my dress and name at my lady’s bidding

that I chan o my faith,” observed the knight,
sha ly. “ knisht gives his life for his lady;
but is soul is not his own to throw away.”

 “ ’Tis all one, my master. And now what am
I to do?” .

“ Thou art free to sta or go as thou wilt, Pe-
ito. I ask none to fol ow me into danger, for
am bound to Cordova.”

“Nay then, since the foclish knight runs his
head into the trap, ’tls but just that the foolish
squire should follow ” replied Pepito. “1 car-
ried my master in t cse two arms when he was
.a child and I will turn Moor with him. ’Tis all
one to I’epito." '

Afew moments afterward, the ladies, still in
a'chattering group by the litters were startled

I. by the apparition of Don Gonzalo, i' ly equip-

" in the m niiiceut arms of Aben ar, and

 ollowad b opito, turbaned and caftanod in

the dress 0 another slain Moor, but still retain-
ing. his rude was :13.

he ladies all c apHed their hands in admira-

tion at Gouzaio’s ga ant figure, and one of them

cried out:
‘ ' “All Moudara is handsomer than Aben
Amar, and fit to be Zoraya‘s knight."
Alinoudara, as he was now dubbed, ad-
vanced with dignity to meet Zoraya, and asked
her orders.
“ We will mount our litters at once and de-
part for Cordova,” she said. “Is there any
ere'that wishes to return to the barren reeks
of this Land of Castles we have left?”
“Not I,” “Nor I,” cried several voices; but

. the little fair maid with the dark blue eyes

forth and said simply:
o. I love my home and this.”

She held up a gold cross as she kc; and an
embarrassed silence fell on the git dy girls Who
had been so ready to abandon their humble
homes. tempted b the glitter of Cordova.

“ Then I swear fithe head of the Prophet of
Allah and by the v me of Ayesh his favorite
wife, that thou shalt be taken there by Ali
Moudara, my knight,” ' answered Zoraya.
“Come with us, Panchita, and see our home in
the South; and than, if thou wilt, thou shalt

-~return with him.”
“But how shall I know this to be true?”
‘81: Panchita timidly.

“Because I am the daughter of the Com-
mander of the Faithful," was the proud reply.
“,I an: Zoraya, the Star of Cordova, and when I

step
‘ ' d

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. w I.

I.-

 

Thou ,

 

The Phantom Knights.

call on my father he will presently give me ten
thousand horsemen to do my bidding. Wilt
thou trust me, Panchitai”

“1 will, because I must,” was the and an-
swer.

“And thou shalt not repent it,” replied
Zoraya. “ How now, my knight; what seest
thou?”

She noticed that Ali Moudara and Pepito
were peering out to the south, where a cloud of
dust was approaching along the hi h road.

“ Moors are coming, gracious l y,” was the
response of the knight.

“ Then do thy duty," answered Zoraya. “ It
is for thee to take us to Cordova, ite of Moor
or Christian; for thou hast un ertaken the
task. Here is th warrant for all.”

As she spoke s e bound her green scarf on
his arm, and waved her hand to him.

The ladies re-entered their litters, and the
procession advanced again, the knight riding at
the head on the Arabian charger taken from
Abd Allah the Moor, while Pepito, as humble
as lever, followed behind on the sober gray
mu e.

Before them rose the cloudof dust which told
of a company of Moors, and the knight guessed
that they had been summoned by the fugitives
from the late battle.

If so, he had a deadly battle before him, one
aglginst numbers, with only Pepito to help.

evertheless, such was the influence of en-
thusiasm, love and chivalry, that the young
warrior shook the long-plumed Moorish lance
he bore, and laughed aloud for joy as he rode
forward, murmurinqg to himself:

“ My lady is the . tar of the Morning. There
is none like her, not one. I will win renown
f0;  smile, and laugh at wounds for her
sa e.

And truly he seemed likely to get all the
wounds he courted.

CHAPTER III.
' ALI MOUDARA.

Swmmv approached the yellowish cloud,
and before long the newlv-named Ali Moudara
and his squire could see i. e glitter of weapons
amid the dust that told of the galloping horse-
men.

The young kni t hastily called to his squire:

“ Go back, Pop to, and load the rain of lit-i
ters into the fields by yonder narrow lane,
while I ride on and scatter these miscreants.
Keep them in safety, as thou lov’st me.”

“Ay, a , my master,” was the cheerful re-
ply. “Y'Xur worshi can scatter them easy
enough now, for you ave between your knees
a horse worth ten of old Bermuda, that his wor-
ship the count gave you. How shall I know if
your worship has beaten the lnfidelsi”

“I will come to thee, Pepito, under yonder
cluster of palms that we can just see on the
ed 0 of the plain toward Toledo. Farewell.”

9 set a to his horse and dashed of at
full speed, leaving the train of litters behind
him. and rapidly nearing the oncoming Moors.

As he had expected, he soon r. ined the
figures of some of his old foes, but boy were
accmn 'nied by a troop of fifty or sixty others,
agains whom it seemed, even to his wild and
ungoverned valor, useless to struggle with any
he of success.

g: turned in his saddle to look back, and be-
came aware for the first time that the train had
(1 his ppeared . ,

Instead of being on a hillside, from whence a
fair view could he commanded, he was now far
in the plain, in the midst of adensei cultivated
land, where groves of trees and elds of tall
maize hid the prospect from sight, while the
road wound hither and thither amonga con-
fusion of canals, cottages and vineyards. -

Rash as he was, the knight saw that he could
not hope to conquer the ‘cavalcade in front of
him, not to ak of the country round him, and
it flashed on him for the first time that Zoraya’s
plan of making him change his armor, had been
no whim.

As he thought of this be checked his horse,
and presently the Moors came galloping up to
him in hot haste, headed by a wiry little man
with a white board, who at once pulled up and
accosted him hurriedly:

“Peace be with thee in the name of Allah,
stranger! Who art thou?”

“ I am All Moudara,” answered the knight,
remembering his lady’s order as to his name.

The name to and awe the old
Moor, for he bowed his head well-nigh to the
pommel of the high saddle.

“Might son of a mightier father,” he said
respectful . " I knew not that you were
returned rom Africa. Beve _ou seen aught
of a y’oung Christian madman u rusty armor,
who ath slain Aben Amar and carried away
the Maiden Tribute from the Caliph’s servants (”

“ The Christian hath disa ared and I am the
guardian of the Maiden ate, my friend,"
answered the can knight, who began to see
that he was an or some one else. “Ride
back to Cordova, and give notice that we are
coming."

He said this as a sort of experiment, hardly
expecting the Moor would obey him, but the old

. l r-

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‘. ~,‘ c W.  ,.-‘i~  \

l

Luau iiiinmediately bowed lower than before, as
e an :

“ Praise be to Allah, the Most Merciful, that
he has enabled my old eyes to see Ali Moudara,
the Lion of the Rock. 8 ladies are safe under
the shadow of his arm, and we may go home
happily. Mecr Harouu Abd-Allah salutes the
Lion of the Rock.”

So say in , before the youth could prevent
him, the «l man had seized and kissed his
hand, while the other could only stammer:

“ My father, I am not worthy. It is for me
to kiss th hand.”

Nevert eless, it was not without great relief
that be reflected that this clever ruse of war, no
matter  whom it was due, had been the means
of openin .him a. waly to Cordova without any
ap nt ifficulty. t_wasevident that Zoraya.
un r some freak of her caprice, had given him
the name of a well-known and noble Moor
absent in Africa. Meer Haroun Abd—Allah’s
words had told him that the real Ali Moudara,
whoever he might be was thought to be across
the Mediterranean. Would he stay there long
enough to enable the false Ali Moudara to per—
form his vow by taking Zoraya to Cordova and
bringing Panchita back?

Thus revolving in his own mind, the young
knight wheeled his horse and galloped back
alongothe road to the place where he had bid
Pepi take the litters into hiding, when he
turned down the beautiful shady lane between
a maize field and cotton plantation, both in
early bloom, and centered on till he was an-
I‘efll‘gfl by an irrigating canal running across his
pat .

He had been buried in such pleasant thoughts
concerpin Zoraya and the pleasant adventures
promised im in outwitting the heathen Moors,
that ho had lost all note of time and place; and
it was not till his horse stopped and thrust down
its head to drink that the rider looked round

him.

When he did, he started. He was in an un-
familiar country, and the lane had evidently
come to an end in the canal, for there was no
path up the other side.

And besides this, it became clear to him as he
looked (‘lOSOI‘ round him, that Pe ito and the

mule—train could not have passed t at way, for “

there were no boof~tracks in the mud.

Full of a vague sense of danger, he knew not
what, the young knight hastil retraced his
steps up the lane, and discovers , what he had
not noticed as he passed before a second lane,
crossing and‘ running throng a number of
fields into a walnut wood. some milemoif.

The tracks of the mules were here plainly
visible, and their appearance indicated that the
animals had been driven at speed down the
lane, while there was no sign of their presence
as far as he could see.

Down the lane, winding to and fro throu h
the fields went the false Ali Moudara, till 9
came to an open green plain, at the edge of

which were scattered several cottages in the .

Morisco st le, with flat roofs and mud walls.

The knig t almost ran over a Moorish peas-
ant here, as be tprned into the field, and of him
he hastily inquired:

“ Bast seen the train of litters? Whither
have they he?” .
“ On to oledo,” was the answer in a stupid

amazed sort of way, while the man stared at
him as if he had been a ghost. ‘* My lord
knows he gave the order himself."

The knight thought he remembered some-
thing of the sort, and hastily went on with his
questions.

“Which is the way theni Does this path
enter the highway beyond 1"

“ Surer my lord."

Ali Moudara dashed the spurs into his horse
and loped on at a rapid pace, thinking only:

“ once 'I see them again, I will not let them
out of my sight. I have left my sworn duty as
a knight an I deserve punishment for it.”

But over as he galloped on the hoof~tracks
became plainer an p‘lainer, till he entered the
walnut wood. By t at time the sun was al.
ready growing low in the sky, and he could still

hear igthin oi 1the mule-be]
n mu 8 wood he gallo , and re-
cently the clatter of boots ogegard stages,

fa'ihlli; adjvance.

u, ust as the sun set, he saw the white

high road m front of him, the hoof-trail leadin
lainly into it, out of the wood. while a peasan
n a brown caftan and white turban was driv-

ing dough couple of m loaded with firewood

in fagom.

The new All Mondara rode by the peasant,
who stopped and stood staring at him in such a
dazed way that the knight reined up his horse
and asked him: '

“ What’s the matter, friend! Who art then,
and why dost thou stare at me so?” .

“I am nobody but Hamet Abd—el-Akbar, my
lord," answered the r wood-cutter confusedl y.
“M lordhu an. le horse. Hecan run bet-
ter an the mares from the stud of the Prophet
himself.”

“ Wh dost than say so, Hornet?”

"Be as runao far, to lord! ’Twas'but

 

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“ Comest thou from Toledo then?”

“ No, my lord, from the Mountains of the
North but I know he must have been there.”
“ VV’ell, theu’rt wrong then."

suddenly awoke with a snort and a start to
find himself alone in the dark, with the moon
hanging low in the Western sky and a red flush
! just tiuging the east; while a cold breeze, wav-

And the young knight shook his bridle and ! mg the palm trees, made him shiver in spite of
gallowd on toward Toledo, leaving Hamet Abd- ‘ himself.

el-Akbnr scratching his head in the road and ;

muttering:

Pepito sat up and stared round him in amaze-

lment. He had forgotten everythin but the

“How in Allah’s name came be here, and ‘ fact that he was cold, on account of t e sudden

what is he doing!”

Meantime the young cavalier rode rapidly
along on toe road to 'loledo through the fast-
gntherlng shades of evening, and could see no
signs of the mule-train.

That it was ahead of him he could not doubt;
but sunset faded into twilight; twili ht into
night; and the darkness of night was i lumined
by the faint light of the red moon disk rising
over the trees before he heard in the distance
the faint tinkle of bells that told him he was
nearing the plodding mules.

 

CHAPTER IV.
ms sqcms‘s BLENDER.

WHEN Pepito, the squire, took control of the
train of mules as his master rode forward to
meet the Moors. he had no very clear idea of
where he should go with them. Brought up
among rocks and mountains, and using his
‘sober gray mule merely to transgirt him from
place to place, he felt lost in t e plains, and
quite bewildered as to what he should do with
the bevy of beauties that had fallen to his lot.

He was a good-humored fellow, fond of his
case, and by no means emulous of glory and ad-
venture; and be determined to keep us close to
the mountains as he could, with the object of
escaping thither if his master were driVen from |
the care of the ladies, as be fully believed would
soon he the case.

Pepito, as we have seen, could fight on occa-
sion ; but, unlike his master, he was not in love
either with glory or beauty.

He turned his mule down the lane that Don

change of his dress from leather to linen; and
when he felt the soft thin folds of the Moorish
caftan, which, with a turban were his only gar-
ments, he could not at first t ' k how he came
to be thus scantily attired.

Then, as his dizzy brain began to recall the
events of the previous day, he looked up at the
palms overhead and remembered that he had
promised his master to wait for him beneath
those trees.

“And he has not come yet,” said Pe ito
ruefully, as he rose to his feet and loo ed
round him; “ and where are the litters and the
black men? Hallo! Hassan, Ali, Mahmoud,
all of you! Where are you gone?"

His voice went ringing over the silent fields;
but no answer came back; and I’epito realized
that he was absolutely alone.

“They have left me!” he ejaculated, as this
fact burst upon his mind. “I must find them
somehow, or my master will surely kill me, and
I shall deserve it.”

With this thought in his mind, instinct
prompted him to look for his s and knife,
which had been beside him w en he went to
sleep; but, to his renewed amazement, they too
were gone. He was left defensele and un-
armed in a strange country, and began to feel
decided] uncomfortable. ’

The 0 ill of the'morning air had entirely
sobered him, and he turned to examine the
country round him with a view to getting out
of it as soon as he could.

The flush of advancing dawn was deepening
and broadenin r every moment he looked; and
it was alreadyllight enough to see the forms of
ob 'ects near b

 

Gonzalo had pointed out to him and then sat
there waiting while the long procession passed ,
him, the black slaves plodding patiently beside l
their mules. , |

This lane wound away to the south in the '
direction of Toledo, the most conspicuous object 1
in sight being aclump of palm-trees about five |
miles off; and under these palms Pepito halted 
at last, and told the slaves tounsaddle the mules ‘
and prepare dinner for the ladies. I

The stout squire was the more read to do ‘
this, because he had noticed at the ta' of the
procession a number of heavily-loaded mules,
which promised well for food and drink, and
the event proved he was not mistaken.

The ladies were soon out of their litters and
scattered over the grass, full of glee at their re-
lease, while the gatient blacks were unpacking
the hampers an lighting little ares, whereon
the silver coffee- were .soon simmering fra—
grantly away in the shade of the palms.

As for Pepito, he had said a word for the
ladies and two for himself on the subject of
dinner. He had never-tasted, or even seen,
coffee in his life, for it was only just coming
into use with the Moors, and the ,Christians
were unacquainted with it; but he had noticed
the well-known outline of wine-skins on some of
the last mules, and Pepito was very fond of
wme,

Calling to him the slaves in his mOSt lordly
manner, the squire ordered them to bring him
“ something to eat and a wine-skin ” at once, for
he feared every moment that his expected feast
would be interru ted by the arrival of his mus-
ter, and Pepito lieved in making hay while
the. sun shone.

The slaves were perfectly obsequious, for
they feared the stout squire for his strength and
fierce appearance; therefore Pe ito was soon
supplied with a pilluu of rice, (p enty of fruit,
and a Mr? goblet full of that elicious yellow
wine of area by which the luxurious Moors
managed to cheat the Koran. The Book for-
bids the “wine that is red," and the'Spanish
Mom‘s, having found the secret of making a
yellow wine, could indulge in it without vio—
lath the letter of the law.

Pepito. as he ate his plllau and refreshed him—
self wnh copious draughte of wine, began to
feel remarkable happy.

“ The Blessed Virgin is a very gracious ladv,”
he soliloquized: “but she does not sup 1 her
worshipers With food and wine like t is. I
I must turn the Moslem to. save my conscience:
for my master has done it already, though he
denies it. As if I could not see that he was be-
witched with that Morisco enchantressl Well,
here’s her good health, and may I find one to
(do the same by me.”

The squire continued to soliloquim and drink,
to gormandize and wonder when his master was
coming, each cup of Xercs, (now called sherry)
tasting sweeter than the last, till it came to pass
in time that be far exceeded the bounds of dis-
cretion. and drank himself fast asleep before
the ladies had-finished their dinner.

None noticed 'him, for they were too much

y.

epitc saw that the grove of palms was en-
tirely empty of people the ashes of four or five
little fires being the only signs of its late occu-

nts.

The ground was all covered with hoof~tracks,
and he came to the conclusion that his master
must have come to the tree and ordered the
train to start without noticing him, or else had
left him alone as a punishment for drunkenness.

“And whichevcrdt be, I’ll follow him no
more,” said Pe )ito angrily to himself. “He
may go to his Moors, but I am a good Chris<
tinn and defy Mohammed and all his hosts. I
will go home. ”

Buried as he was in dark fields and planta—
tions, he could yet see the outlines of the Cas-
tilian Mountains to the north, and without more
ado he set out toward them, as much to get
warm by exercise as to extricate himself from
what he began to think was a position of dan-
ger to an unarmed men.

For some time Pcpito ploddcd on without
keeping to any regular track; crossing fields,
falling into drains, scrambling through thickets;
till the advancth sun rose high enough to re-
veal the whcle country around him, and he
found himself in the open avenues of one of
those large cork woods so common in Spain and

Portugal.

He had entire] lost ' ht of the mountains;
but kept alOng t rou h e woods, thinking he
was following a straig t path.

Entirely unused to traveling in a country
where no landmarks were visible, it was not
much wonder that honest Pepito wandered on,
hour after hour, and final] lost his way in the
midst of a confusion of Ids and vine ards,
that told him he was agproaching some ooriah
settlement. He felt y no means desirous of
coming among Moore in broad (in light, all
unarmed as he was, at the hazard 0 having to
explain his presence there, and he was skulking
about in the edge f the cork wood, when he
saw something conga] through the , arches of
the forest that made im start with surprise
and joy. .

He recognized theflgure of the fair-haired
lady he had heard called Panohita, mounted on

to some soldier; for a shield, bow and quiver
were hung on the sides of the saddle-bow, and
the lady rode in manly style, with her feet in
the broad shovel stirrups.

She was coming from the opposite direction,
through the aisles of the cork wood, her horse
ambling easil along, the lady looking and and
mournful. S e had not seen the squire in his
Moorish dress, and he took care to slip behind a
tree till she was near by, when he suddenly
sprung out and: seized her bridle, saying in a
subdued tone:

“ Stop. gracious lady. You must indeed
stop; "You gave me the slip once too oftenllast

t.

n
IThe lady started violently when he sprung
out, and s e uttered afaint cry of fear. .
Before she oculd make a motion to sense the
weapons that ung at her saddle-how, Pe ito

 

ocohplied in discussin his master’s absence, and
thus

e slept ctr-he new not how long-till he

had snatched t m away, together with a on
spiked mace that was under the shield, and

a gray Arab horse that had evidently belonged.

 

was coolly arming himself, with a face of much
satisfaction.

Then the lady clasped her hands and began
to implore him.

“ Oh, sir, if you are a robber, take pity on me
and let me go. I am but a poor distressed
damsel striving to escape from the pOWer of the
Moors.”

“ Faith; so am I,” returned Pepito dryly.
“I thought I was a good Moslem last night,
but I‘ll stay Christian for the future, since my
master and all of on left me.”

The lady look at him with surprise.

“ Are you then truly a Christian?”

Pe ito crossed himself.

“ 3 ’ill that show you?" he asked.

Then the lady brightened up.

“Then what dost thou here, and who art
thou?” she said.

Pe ito frowned and then laughed.

“ ho um I? As if you did not know well
enough, when my master and I killed those
Moms in the pass yesterday morning. And
then he changed his religion for the sake of that
little witch with the black eyes, and took ye all
to Toledo, I suppOse, leaving me asleep in the
palm grove. Of course you don‘t know me.”

The lady looked more and more amazed as she
listened to him.

“What! Was it thou who slept so soundly
that the slaves could not wake thee, and so we
left thee behind while we rode on?" ,

“ It was indeed I, and I should like to know
who ordered tho move,” was the bulky answer.

“Nay, I cannot say that They told me it
was thy master. and certainly he did not seem
to care much afterward. He hath taken a new
squire, my poor fellow.” ‘

“ He has, cl)?” answered Pepito, with a sullen

angry light burning in his eyes. “ Be it so.
am then absolved from my allegiance, and free
to go where I list.” ~

“Then I charge thee, on thine honor and

faith as a Christian, to aid me to csca e to Gas
tile,” said the maiden, earnestly. “ am not
what I seem. My father is the Prince of the
Asturias, and it was only by an aceident that I.
fell into the hands of Leonese foragcrs, seeking
maidens for the annual tribute. Take me safe-
}yllhoms, and my sire will make thee rich, good
e ow.

“That will I gladly, if I can get home my- I

self," answered Pcpito, a, little ruefully. “ but
in truth I have Il‘SI} my way in these cursed
plains and forests, and am helpless till I See the
mountains. ”

“ If that is all,” the lady returned, “ we are
within a few yards of the highway to Burgos.
I have not dared ride on it openly yet, but With
thee to guard me I would not hesitate longer.”

“And where is this highway to Burgos that
you talk of!” asked Pepito.

She pointed a little 'to the left of the direction
from which he had come.

“Out yonder,” she answered. “This village
before us borders on the road, and I had to ride
round it for fear I should be stopped." ‘

Pepito scratched his head. a rueful expression
of face attesting his discomfiture. '

“And I have been coming away from home ‘ 
when I thought I was going to Castile,” he ~ '

muttered. “ Truly, I am not fit to take care of
myself, not mentioning the noble lady here
recent.”

“Nay, but I know the way well,” said the
lady, eagerly. “I looked out as we came

through last night; for I had made up my mind ' i
as soon as I could; and there isa .-

to escape ,
straight road, when on once are on it. Al I
need is a brave and aithful guard.”

“And how did your ladyship get away?”
asked Pepito. ‘ . Q

“ Our train halted in Toledo at the Governor-ls
harem,” she answered, “ and I slip
my litter in the confusion and crown, covering
my face with my vail. It was dark in the
shadow of the houses, and I was not noticed, so

that I was able to reach a side street in the rear ,

of some Moor‘s palace, where I found a roup of
horses tied up, all ready saddled.
longed to some guard that was inside the ouse,
an . the soldiers had covered their saddles with
their long cloaks to keep 08 the dew from their
weapons. ’ -

“ And you tooka horse and rode away?” asked
Pepito. “Now by St. Iago. that was well and
bravely done. ‘But were you not pursued?”

“Nay, for I led the horse away so nietly
that no one heard us.” she answered, smi 'ng at
the recollection. " soon as I was around the
corner I put on the Moor’s cloak, mounted the
horse, and rode out to the gate, where I caged
out that I was a courier going to Cordon... T e
suspected nothm , let me out, and I rode III
round the city til I struck the northern mad,
and here I am.” - »

“ And you left my master in Toledo,” Ob‘
served Pepito, thoughtfully. “ We". “‘13 truly
is a strange world, lady. But yesterda be
was Don Gonzalo Gonzales, son of the old at

ofLara, and to-day he is Ali Moudara, aMOOr '

to 1236 lbaackbone."
e a y sighed d .
“ It is indeed 1110an ” she assented.» “And
_ at he is such a gallant knight that I cannot
ditinmyhearttohate him. Would”

out of - w.

 

he be-‘

 

 

 

 

 

e

The Phantom knights.

;... ‘ .’

c

 

 

Heaven, brave Pepito, he had never seen that
Magrish enchantress, for she hath cast a spell
on im.

Pe ito shrugged his shoulders.

“ hat can t be mended must be let alone,”
he answered. “Come, my lady, it is time we
were on our way.”

The lady making no objection. the squire led
the horse through the woods in the direction she
had indicated. and soon had the happiness of
seeing before him the broad white Roman road
which he had been so long seeking vainl , only
to stumble on it when be least ex ,cted t.

As they came out on the road, it was almost
noon, and the Moorish village to the south of
them was all quiet, the inhabitants taking their
noonday siesta, for the heat was alread intense.

Pepito, after a keen look up and own the
road, set off at a rapid walk toward the Cas-
tilian mountains.

The road before them to the north was quiet
and deserted and they could see it gently ris-
ing before t em to the very pass down which
Den Gonzalo and Pepito had come the morn-
ing before, when they met Aben Amar and the

. Maiden Tribute.

For several hours they proceeded quietly,
Pepito feeling very hungry, while the lady sat,
sti l and lpale, on her horse, as if buried in deep
and pain ul thought.

At last they saw before them in the distance a
little cloud of dust, that seemed as if it was
raised by a man on horseback, coming toward
them out of Castile, and Pepito said joyfully:

“ Yonder comes a good Christian, I hope.
If so, my lad , you sha i sleep in (peace to-night
within a cast e where the people 0 not pray to
a false Prophet. Yonder comes a good knight
and true.”

The lady brightened up at the news, while the
distant horseman continued ra idly to ap-
proach them, and within half an our was close
enough to be recognized.

Then Pepito uttered a cry of the most intense
astonishment.

“ By the bones of St. Iago of Compostella,” he
exclaimed, “ it is my master!”

The lady looked eager! forward, and her
face lighted up with a gl smile, as she mur-
mured:

“ It is he.
turned to the faith of his mother.
Blessed Virgin!”

A moment later the young knight, still

He has forsaken his errors and re-
Thanks,

v equipped in the graceful Moorish arms, and

mounted on a magnificent bay Arab horse,
drew up beside them and cried out to Pepito:

“ Whither geest thou with a Christian maid,
thou cowardly runaway?”

CHAPTER V.
enri'ro’s MASTER.

PnPi'ro grinned with honest leasure in spite
of this strange greeting, for his displeasure
vanished at the first view of his beloved mus-

r.
“Faith, master mine ” he exclaimed, “I am
taking the gracious lady home to her people.

‘If none else will welcome her, the count your

father will see that she is taken care of. ”

~ “To Eblis with thy counts and all Christian
dogs,” answered the kni ht in angry tone;
“ knowest then who I am, col?”

“ Right well, your worship ” said Pepito, with
his old humorous grin. “I did not carry you
in my arms as a boy for nothing. You are
Don Gonzalo Gonzales, son of the Count of
Lara, and the man who slew all the Moors and

'_ carried at the Maiden Tribute yesterday. v

c

 

last night. and it serv

The young knight turned red with anger and
his e es flashed as he raised the butt of his

", long ance of cans menacingly.

“ Thou liest. slave,” he shouted. “I am
Sheer,Ali Mou iara al Gebel, the Lion of the
Rock, and I hold all Christians as swine. Turn
back instantly, ere I. smite thee to the earth.”

Pepito looked at his master with a mixture of
amazement and half-incredulous humor. Then
he‘nodded his head in a Wise manner.

“ Your worship is trying me with a jest,” he
answered. “ Methinks ou tried me enough
me right for getting
drunk; but I an nothing. Your worship keeps
up the part wel .”

With a cry of anger the young knight brought

-‘ , down the lance staff on his'shoulders and drove -

the 2 re across the road, c in :

“ 0g, darest thou mock me?
Who am I?”

Pe ito. like all of his peasant class, was too
mus used to blows from nobles toresist, and
he ran from before his master. trying to shield
himself with both arms, and calling out:

“Mercy, your worshi , merc ! Your wor-
ship is a great Moorish c ief, an the Christians
are all swine. Long live the Prephetl Mercy,
master, mercy on my poor shoulders!”

Then the kni ht desisted from his task and
turned to the ady, who had covered herself
with the hen Oriental vail she were, as soon
asshe rceiv him coming. Her he addrech
with t e courtesy of a cavalier, andan

ho am I new?

. grace much at variance with his bashful de-

meanor on the pievious day.

 

 

“ I begs the noble lad will pardon me that I
chastize my slave in or presence," he said,
bowing; “ but in truth be had angered
greatly by his desertion. He left me to ht a
crew of robbers alone only yesterday, an ran
away from me like the slave that he is. Now I
find him enticing a noble lad into the land of
the Christians. and it is well t at I came in time
to rescue you.”

me

For answer to this sin lar speech the lady
threw back her vail and close her beautiful
regret.

face, glowing with angr

“ Oh, Don Gonzalo,’ s e burst out, “is it not
enough that you have yielded to the wiles of
the enchantress Zoraya, and allowed Christian
maidens to go unchecked to their shame, but
you must even pursue me, who am innocent of
all but a desire to escape the hated embraces of
the tyrant of Cordova? Oh, sir, as on are a
knight, I adjure you to let me go ree,.for I
would rather you would pierce me with our
spear than take me back to the infamy mm
which I have just escaped.”

The oung knight remained gazing at her,
from t e moment that she had lifted her vail,
with a face that ressed unbounded admira-
tion and wonder. hen she had concluded, he
made answer:

“ Whatever else may be my duty, fairest
maiden, it is the first leasure of a cavalier of
Cordova to do the bidding of a lady. I am thy
slave, to o with thee where thou wilt: for Ali
Moudara news no law but that which he reads
in the eyes of beaut .”

The Christian gir returned his gaze with a
wistful look, as she murmured in a low tone:

“ He is indeed bewitchod. Oh that I had the
beauty of Zoraya, that I might win him back
to the cross! He denies his name and calls him-
self Ali Moudara at her bidding.”

The knight smiled softly as he replied:

“Na , sweetest maiden, I would not be so
churlis as to disobc thy lightest wish. Tell
me only what name am to bear and how I am
ti) call”thee, andvI will be any thing and every
t ling. '

“ And forget Zoraya?” asked the girl, quickly
with an eager flush.

“ Nay, how can I for et Zoraya when I do not
even remember her? ’ he answered gayly.
“There are many Zorayas and Fatimas and
Maryams, but thou art one, like the bird of the
desert that dies on the flame to rise again in
glory. Fairest of all mortals, tell me thy name,
that I may dream of it night and day.”

The lady blushed crimson before his ardent
gaze. She had indeed felt the first pangs of
love when she looked on the handsome face of
Don Gonzalo the da before, glorified with the
halo of heroism: bu she had never believed it

. ible that he Would break the chains Zoraya

ad cast around him. Now, however, there was
no mistaking the on r love-light that shone in
the eyes of the man fore her.

“ 0h senor,” she burst out impulsively, “the
Blessed Virgin has indeed cleared away the
mists from your eyes! I am Dona Francesca
de Ximenes, daughter of the Prince of the As-
turias. I was out with my marlin, hawking in
the valleys near my father’s castle, when I was
suddenly seized by a rough band of soldiers,
and carried away to the city of Segovia. The
king of Leon was collecting maidens to send to
Cordova for the annual tribute, and I was stolen
to save his own people.”

“ The king of Leon is a cur, whom it were a
good deed to Scourge to the sea,” observed the

night with an expression of bitter contempt
“ Think you that the prince, your father, knows
where you are new?”

. “ How can he? I have not seen him ever
since that day three weeks ago. He must think
me dead.”

“And is the lovely Dona Francesca willin
to trust her safet in the hands of an inflde
Moor like All oudara?” asked the knight
with a smile of some archness. “ Bethink you,
fair lady, I may car you of! myself to some
mountain fortress, w ere neither Caliph nor
kigfi can touch you.”

9 lady blushed crimson at the ardor of his
language, and murmured:

“ Oh, Don Gonzalo, speak not so, for I might
be tempted to forget my father, and that would
besin.’

The cavalier smiled again.

“ Ntiy. nay, I will not play the robber chief
when can be a true knight. f will dare all the
perils of the mountains and bring thee home
safer. or leave my head in Castile.” -

“0h Don Gonzalo,” she said joyfully: “ I
knew when first I saw thee thou wast a true
knight. Thou shalt be mine if thou wilt.”

The eyes of Ali Moudara glowed with pleasure
as he ejaculated:

“ Sweetest and fairest of ladiesk I will make
him eat his words that says that hou art not
the one beauty of all the world. ”

She extended her hand to him with the frank
impulse of a woman in the days when women
were queens of society]; ‘
uh“  swear that on wilt forsake Zoraya,”

esa .

He pressed an ardent kiss on the little hand,
as he answered:

“By this I swear that thou art better and

., ..., .,I- . p
11‘. > - , ‘uai "-'

 

faiiiJ-ei; than all the Zorayas that ever were a
va .

“ Then call me by the name my father calls
me,”'said'she.

“Call me ‘Panchitafi and swear thou lovest
none but me.”

“ Panchita, I love thee; I love none but thee;
and none other will I love till death,” was the
eminent] satisfactory answer; to which Pan-
cbita rep ied:

“Gonzalo, thou art my knight. Be brave
and true as thou lovest me.”

.All this while Pipito had been looking on in
silence from the do of the road, wearing a
veil?y puzzled countenance.

ow that peace seemed to be restored, he
came forward with his usual good-humeral
grin, and observed:

I“ Ali’s well that ends well, master mine. A
kiss is worth ten kicks any day. Where will
your worship be pleased to go; and are we

‘hristians or Moors this afternoon?”

“ It was Panchita who made answer to him,
in her sweetest tones: _

“ We are all Christians now, good friend; for
thy master bath escaped the males of witch-
craft, and we are going to wander whither we
will, to see the world. Wilt thou with us?"

Pepito looked at his master, w 0 had not
answered: and he scratched his nose in a doubt
ful manner.

“I would I could follow my lady to the
world‘s end,” he replied slowly, “but I know
not whether in master has forgiven me: and if
not, my poor 3 oulders would fain be excused
from more familiarity with his stick.”

The knight smiled.

“ I forgive thee. Baba Moustafa,” he re lied
more good-humoredly than he had yet spo en;
“ but beware of runningway again in a fight.
It is the servant’s place stand by his master,
and”those Almogavar robbers had nearly slain
me.

Pepito stared hard at his master as if, he
doubted his senses, and turned away mutter-
ing: .

“ Where would he have been, had it not been
for one Almogavar I wot of? The squire kills.
the Moor, and the knight wears the armor.”

However, he made no audible comment to his
master, except to ask:

“Since our worshigehas changed his name,
I su epito must some one also new.”

The knightin his turn looked at the other
with surprise, and then he frowned as he
answered sternly:

“ I have allowed thee too much freedom for a
slave, Baba Moustafa: and thou presumeth on
it with thy fool’s ests. Get behind my horse,
and be silent, satis ed that I do not kill thee for
th cowardice of yesterday. Where wast then
a] night?”

“ Sleepin in the palm grove, where your
worship b' me etc ,” was the stolid answer-
“I know not if the orisco witch hath blinded
ygur worship’s eyes, but it seemed to me that I

re myself as a man yesterday, and earned the
very armor your worship is wearing.”

The young knight colored up and turned to
Panchita, sayin in a low tone:

“Sweetest la y, let us ride on. I am deeply

'eved that my fellow should have disgraced

imself so, but in truth this thirst for wine is a
re in lion for some men. Come.”

is is spoke he took her bridle and led her
horse awa . calling back over his shoulder:

“Baba oustafa, for thy mother’s sake, I
forgive thee, Follow us when the fumes of the
wine have left thee.”

Then they rode away, leaving Pepito in the
highway, growling to imself, stamping up the
dust and cursing roundly as soon as they Were
out of hearing: I

“ Now, by he bones of St. James of Compos-
tella, thou art a dumb ass, a mule, a swine,
Pepito, to follow this fickle boy, who turns his
coat every day, and is only constant to abuse
thee all the while. I am not Pepito, forseoth'.
His little worship has forgotten my name and

retends to call me a slave and Baba Mous-

fa. And a coward too, forsooth! New, by
the mass, I’ll follow him no more. Let the
Moors have me, I’ll be no squire to him. I’ll go
to the mountains and turn robber—”

1118.808“ Sollloquy had not hindered his
watcmng the fleeing pair, and it was suddenly

interrupted b a remarkable s taclc.
A swarm 0 dark figures ha ust darted out
of the woods on either side of t e road toward

the 88. and Pepito reco nixed them ataglance
as t ose savage despera 0es called Almogavar
by the Moors, and universally dreaded. ‘
These men lived on the borders of Castile,
sheltered from all hostile incursions amen the
almost inaccessible upper valleys of the lam
Guadalupe. From t ese fastnesses they do»

 

‘The Spanish diminutives of names are often
very pretty and very unlike their originals. " Fran-
cesca"—our “ Frances " (diminutive "Fanny" in
English—iii turned into “Pa
“Paca” and “Pa ita.’ es

aria de la Concepcion “ isturned
‘Concha."

The male diminutives follow the same laws, end.
ing in “o,” “ Jose " being made over into "Pepe,"
” Pepito," etc.

 

i
i
i

 

 

*3")

 

'4;
’3

. almost reached im, when, much to his so rise.

ii ’1." i  ' i,
i r I. v v _ i.

I .' “I: y \' r‘l.‘,' . '. I’snl..'

 

,.

The Phantom Knights.

. -i.....~.~ww.-nu.. _--. ......- . . -. s .

 

lunder-

scended whenever theymneeded food, _ .
ians

ii the Moors at all t as and the
w on they could do no better.

Their attire and general appearance were
rude and savagein the extreme, and they were 3
known to spare neither a 9 nor sex in their sav- l
age forays. ssoon as epito saw these sav- ,
ages dart out into the road, he began to laugh ;
fiercely.

“Now, master mine, let us see how‘such a
valiant knight ets on without his squire,” he
ejaculated. “ here is no passage to Castile
this day for thee.” _

In fact no sooner did the Wild Almogavars
dart out into the road than the cavalier and his
companion wheeled their horses and galloped

ll

has .

But this did not satisfy the savages behind
them: for no sooner did the knight turn than .
the Almogavars gave a wild yell of triumph and
came running after him with the speed of wild

oats.
g In fact. these savage men were so little in-
(snmbered with clothing that they could run
very fast, and for a few moments they almost
kept] up with the horses. _
en, just as the squire was 'nning to
tremble for his master’s safety, the anger dis
sipating his anger, they stop , dropped their
lon spears, and began to t row stones after
the night with cat force and precision.

Now the squire could stand it no lon er.
Beaten and abused as be had been that ay,
there was yeta warm corner in his heart for
the master he had carried in his arms; and he
betho ht him of the Moorish weapons he
wore. n a moment more he had drawn the
bow from its case outside the quiver and began
to shoot at the Almogavars nearest his master.
These rude warriors had neither shields nor
armor, and were only formidable against a
charge of cavalry.

Before he had shot three arrows, they spied
him from the effects of his archery, and came
running at him, leaving his master alone for
the nonoe.

A little later, the knight and Panchita came
galloping by, and the cavalier cried out:

“Run thy best, Babe Moustafa. I forgive
thee all now.”

“But Pepito’s blood was u , and he heeded
not. He had shot four of the lmogavars dead,
but a dozen more were not a hundred yards ofl’,
yelling fiercely.

CHAPTER VI.
A Mom’s oumnn

WHEN a strong man shoots his best, he can
discharge a good many arrows in twenty
seconds: and before the ursuin Almo avars
could reach Pepito, five 0 them ad fal on on
the highway, pierced through with the Moorish
arrows that the squire was shooting.

Then, just as the foremost was within fair
striking distance, Pepito turned round, swung
forward the round buckler he had taken from
Panchita’s horse, and fled like a deer for about
finy yards.

e looked over his shoulder; saw that the
Almogavars were strung out in pursuit, and
moderated his own pace.

Uttering a triumphant yell, the foremost of
his pursuers began to 1gain upon him, holdin
his long spear a a. tra , when Pepito grasped
the short mace he still carried and suddenly
turned on him.

The Almogavar made a savage thrust at him
with the spear and Pepito as promptly dashed
the point aside with his hard shield, leaping
within his opponent’s guard. .

Once there, the active peasant gave his pur-
suer one blow with the heavy spiked mace,
stretching him on the road, senseless or dead
aiil then sprun on to meet the next. He had '

the whole body of the Almogavars turn and
fled to the woods, uttering loud cries of warn-
ing to each other avpanic which Was next mo-
mi-nt explained y the thunder and clatter of
lioofs in the rear, as a large body of Moorish
kl'aschefs—the medieval substitute for our
modern mounted police—came tearing up the
road, headed by Pepito‘s master.

A moment later, they had passed him and
were sweeping the woods ahead, hunting out
the Almogavars with a force that defied resist-
ance, whi e Pepito_s master pulled up his be
horse by the squire’s Side, and held out h
hand,-sa ing:

“ Wel done, Baba Moustafa. Never again
shall thy master call thee a coward. Thou art
as brave as Rustam."

Pepito looked up proudly, the tears in his
9

 

i are.

 

yes.
“ Master mine, how could I leave you? Call
me what you  I am a fool and alwa s '
will be. I am aba Moustafa or Hassan or A i, ~
or anything you like, so that you do not call me '
a coward and beat me.” I I
“I’ll never beat the in, Babe,” said the ,
knight, heartily. “ nous alt come with me to
Cordova and there 1' will give thee th free-
dom and make thee my steward; for y the

I

. on the peril of my life.

sand?! the Prophet thou art too good to be a
ve.

Pepito stared at his master and then nodded
his head wisely.

“I see, I see. Your worship is quite right.
It will not do to let these Moors know who we
I am Baba Moustafa, for we cannot get
back to Castile this time.”

“ No; thanks to those Almogavars, we must

1%? round another way,” said the knight,
t o

htfully. “ These kiaschefs must not see a
true liever take a Christian maiden out of the
Ca‘léph’s dominious. Let us go, Baba.”

ithout making further 0 'ections the uire
followed his master down t e road to w ere
Panchita, now closely vailed, was sitting on her
horse. watching t result of the late battle.

“Sweetest Pane 'ta,” here said the kni ht,
“thou seest the fates are inst us to a. .
We cannot reach Christian rritory till t e
kiaschefs are out of the way. They would sto
us as well as those Almogavars. If you w'l
deign to accept the hospitality of a poor Mo-
risco cavalier, I have a little castle near here
where you can repose for a few days till I am
able to take you back. Will you trust me?"

Panchita looked troubled and anxious. She
ltloesitated a while and then replied in faltering

nes:

“I have no one else to trust now, but oh.
senor, be true to me. Is there no convent of
holy women to which I could repair for a little
while, till I could send word to my father that
I am alivs?”

The knight reflected a while and then an-
swered slowly.

“ There is one in Toledo itself, for we Moors,
as you should know, have not persecuted your
Christian churches. Will you go there?”

Punchita looked longing] toward the dark
and sterile mountains to t e north, that she
knew hid her home from view, and then on the
smiling country around them, where every field
was a garden of flower and fruit. The tempta-
tion to stay was great, but she sighed deeply as
she said:

“ If I must, I must, but I would I could send
word to my father.”

“If the gracious lady wishes, I will take a
message from her to the noble cavalier, her
father,” said Pepito at this juncture, and his
master smiled ap rovinglv on him.

“ Well done, aha. You shall go for the
lady. That is the true spirit I have tried to
teach thee so long."

Pepito grinned furtivelty.

“ our worshi is as 0nd of a 'oke as ever.
I can get throug the pass now, I ink, for our
Moorish friends have chased the Almogavars
away; but I shall have to chang: my dress to
reac Bur , and I must travel y night.”

“ But i not those terrible men follow you?”
asked Panchita, anxious'lly.

“ No, gracious lady. hey are after plunder,
and I have nothing but hard knocks to give
them. Where she] I go, and what message
shall I take, in lady?”

“Here is a otter,” said the girl, drawin it
from her bosom. “ I wrote it by stealth, w ien
we stopped at the castle of Ru Velasquez, be-
fore we reached the pass. W at ails thee, sir
knight ?”

She broke ofl abruptly, for the young knight
had started violently at the name of Ruy Velas-
quez, and was looking anxiously at her.

“Nothing, nothing,” he answered, “ only that
you spoke a name I had been taught to hate.”

Panchlta looked sur rised.

“ Ru Velasquez? op Rodrigo of the Wiz-
ard’s astlef”
“ The same. My mother taught me to know

that name when I was a child and told me that
the day would come when I must slay that
wicked kni ht.”

“ That strange,” observed Panchita,
thoughtfullcv. “ Don Rodri o married the couv
sin 0 the cunt of Castile, ona Lambra, and
is reputed a gallant and noble kni ht.”

The young cavalier contracted h brows with
an ex ression of pain and anger as she spoke.

“ T are is the other name ” he muttered as if
to himself. “ Lamhra, the ‘Witch of the dastle.
Where is this place?”

“ Not ten hours’ ride from here ” she answered
promptly, and looked wonderineg at Pepito for
an explanation.

The squire seemed to be affected much in
the same manner as his master by her words,
but be avoided her lance and looked furtively
up at the youn kn ght.

Presently Moudara mused himself from
the bitter reverie into which he had fallen for
ahwhile, and forced a smile, as he said to Pan-
0 ita: .

“ Will the fairest damsel in the world on
her knight that he .had for a moment oubted
his duty. I will take thee into Castlle at once.
It shall not be said
that All Moudara let a slave do what he would
not himself. See, the ahades‘of eve are Ed-
vancing, and we can clear yonder 3’ mid'
night, while the Almogavai-s are 1 0mm-
Let us at once.”

Pane ta joyfully turned her horse's head to
the E33.
“ tter a thousand perils at home than safety

 

in the land of thestran r,” she cried, fervently.
“ Nownwe are in

from Zoraya’s
snares.

Pepito made no objection. The fact was that
the honest squire was in a state of stupefaction
at all he saw and heard. He saw his master
before him, and yet this master acted differently
from anything he had ever seen him do before.
Form, feature, dress, were all there, but some-
thing in the expression was different, and hon-
est Pepito began to think that his master was
bewitched.

The uire was ten or twelve years older than»
the knig t, and had heard in his youth of a ter-
rible tragedy connected with the family of
Lara, in which Ru Velasquez, just mentioned,
was implicated. e knew, or at least telieved,
that this matter was utterly unknown to the
young Gonmlo, but the sudden emotion dis-
played by the knight showed him that his sup-
gosition was wrong, and he was puzzling his

rain to find out how the facts had come to his
master's ear.

Cogitating thus, he followed after the pair on
foot. wishing much for his sober mule to save
his limbs, and thus the little party proceeded at
a walk 11 the road, assing the scene of the
late conflict, and meeting the Moorish kiaschefs
coming back from their pursuit of the Almo-

gavars.

Pepito noticed that these men saluted his
master with gestures of the most profound re-
spect, and their chief said to him:

"Valiant Emir, it is not safe to further up
this road. We have chased the ‘ ristian dogs
to their holes in the rocks, and slain ten of
them, but Allah has given the lain to the
Faithful: the rocks to to an Christians.
Tempt not the mercy of t e Merciful by going
further that way.”

The knight smiled faintly.

“ Kuow‘st thou not, Meer Haroun, that I am
Sheer a1 Gebel, Lion of the Rock? I have made
a vow to strike my spear on a Christian gate are
I return to Cordova, and I must keep it. Lend
me a horse for my slave, Babe Moustafa, and
take this jewel in yment I pra thee.”

The Moor bow low as he too a magnificent
rin which the other held out.

‘ Mighty Emir, there is Hassan al Hayzari’s
mare. Her master has but fist flown to Para-
dise and your slave can take r.”

He pointed to a ghra mare that was being led
by one of the kiasc e s, and it was soon turned
over to Pepito, who mounted the easy-paced
animal with much satisfaction and followed his
master and Panchita.

The Moors seemed much surprised at the de-
parture of the little cavalcade, but they made
no opposition; and within half an hour after
Pepito saw before him the scene of the battle 0
the previous day, still marked b the bodies of
the slain Moors and the dead one of Aben
Amar, while the kiaschefs were entirely out of
si ht in the woods below. ’

t was evident that the Almogavars or other
robbers had been at work here, for the bodies
were all stripped.

Pepito’s master drew up his horse a moment
to look at them.

“ Here has been trouble, Babs,” he remarked
thoughtfully. “Those men were slain lately.
Hav'e, the Almogavars been here too, think

on
y “ Your worship should know,” the squire an-
swered dryly. “ This isnone of m handiwork,
save only the horse and one rider.

The knigm looked at him sternly for a mo-
ment, then shrugged his shoulders and rode on,
observing:

“ No matter, Babe. Thou always wast a
great liar; but [forgive thee since this after-
noon. Let us be on our way.”

Panchita, as they rode on, drew up closer to
her knight, and said in her soft cooin tones:

“ Why dost thou laugh at poor ito, Sir
kn t? Surely I saw his deeds and th e only
is) rday. Meseemeth this disguise is kept up

lon for courtesy.”

For t e first time in his intercourse with the
lady, the cavalier exhibited symptoms of irrita-
tion, thou h he never lost his courtesy.

“ And ageseemeth also, fairest damsel,” he an-
swered in turn, “that if there be an witch-
craft here, it is cast on me this ’day. y slave
talks riddles to me, and thou joinest him in the

.assault on a poor knight who only strives to do

his du .

NowfiyPanchita began to be irritated too, for
there were lovers’ quarrels in those days as well
as in our modern times.

The dove-like maiden drew herself awayfrom
the knight in offended silence, with the sting-
ing remark: -

‘ This is kept up too long. senor."

After that she rode rapidly on, keeping the

other side of the road from her knigh and it

.was not till the shades of night began to close

in on them in a valley of the mountainsthat she
spoke atgain.

Poin to a glimmering light far ahead, she
observed 1: her most mrcastic tones:

“Yonder lies the abbey of Bt. Ursula of
Castile, senor, under the walls of the castle. I’

will not trouble our courtesy any further than
the gate, when will bid you adieu.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.heed ess girl, fond of pleasure as any

 

m::.:::~ -

The knight bowed low. It was the print. go '

of a lady in the days of chivalry to abuse, Sbub
and persecute her lover with ca rice, withow.
stint, and the laws of his order und him to
take all without a murmer. ‘

f‘ If my lady commands, I must obev,” he
said. sadly, and spoke no more till they were at
the abbey gate and had rung the great bell.

hen he asked, respectfully:

, “ Eas‘gh? fairesthlad in the world any com-
man s a on er ni t, ere Ali Moudara
leaves her inysafety?’ gh

v“ I have nothing for Ali Moudnm, the infidel,
but pity and sorrow,” was the unyieldin an-
swer. " When Don Gonzalo, Count of am,
has recovered from the spell of the witch
Zoraya, and wishes to see Francesca Ximenes,
she Will be here, prayingai‘or his return to the
faith of his mother. arewell, senor. Tell
Zoraya, when you see her, that all Christian
maids are not to be corrupted."

‘As she spoke she sprung down from her horse
Without waitin for him to assist her, and in a

' moment more t )6 abbey gate closed 11 on her,

leaving the knight and squire alone in t we dark.

 

CHAPTER VII.
'rrfn Winns OF A PRINCESS.

his time to return to the Princess Zoraya
and the Maiden Tribute, left as they were in
charge of the careless squire (Pcpito), to show
how they had escaped him.

The Princess Zoraya, the only daughter of
the Caliph of Cordova, was as gay and capri-
cious as most 5 oiled children. She had never
kn0wn her Wis to be refused, and was always
devising seine new freak to amuse heisclf.

' The position of women among the Spanish
Moore was far above that occupied b the sex
in the Eastern domains of Islam. eir con-
stant intercourse, in peace and war, with the
Christians, had tended to the benefit of both

ties. The rude Goths of the mountains had
Earned courtesy and luxury from the Moors,
While the Moslcms had learned, from the Usage
of chivalry, to respect women and allow them
geater freedom than was given them in the

astu

- Zoraya could read and write, and was versed
in much of the science which the Arabs were
the first to in iroduce in Europe, besides being-a
‘skillful mulician and dancer.

, All her accomplishments, however, did not
cbu 0 her nature, and she was still a giddy,
princess
recorded in the Arabian Nights. She had ui-
tered the ,Chl'lis‘tlall territory ’undcr Aiwn
Amar’s escort to bring back tne M-iidcu 'l‘ri~

"bow, as a mere whim, and had captivated all

,the girls that she had found at the castle of Ruy
Velasquez Weeping over their expected exde
among the Moors.

» Panchita. was the onl one that did not yicll
to her pictures of the p ensures of Cordova, and
the .tted princess was set on overcoming the

tian maiden’s mournful reluctance by
every blandishmcnt she knew. But the sudden
meeting with Don Gonzalo had changed the
course of Zoraya’s whims, and she had almost
forgotten Panchita in the pleasure of first love.
all tho sweeter because she was yet Ollie-lilo of
Moorish territory and could gaze on a man un-
veiled without fear of exciting scandal.

No sooner had she and her young 0 =inpanions
finished their repast under the palm trots, than
Zoraya began to search about for some new ad-
'03th to pass the time till Donfiouzalo r.-

They found the poor squire asleep, and the

y rin’oess, in her usual mad spirit of fun, de—
, rm ned tf‘give him a fright by leaving him
alone and ing along the train.

1 - The black slaves were all ready to obey her,

and in a very short time the mules Were hur-
nessed to the litters; Pepito’s weapons slipped
from him; his gray mule led away; when the
whole train moved off at 'a trot down the lane
award the distantspiregis ofhgoledo, Zgraya and
r young compamomi g g n id y ecstas
ova: tine p ht of their in guardian when hz
, aw e. ‘

Forafull hour they kept along at a re. id‘
,ltill they came to a field surrounded w th
rish cottages and vineyards when the

mules came to a sudden halt, and Zoraya heard
a stern voice ery:

“What is this, ye sons of Eblis? Whither go

ye in this fashion, with no rd or escort?"

The giddy princess imm lately vailed herself,

for she began to suspect that she had run into a

scrape of some sort, and she h d the black
slave of her own litter—tho ,of the pro
cannon—answer dc recatingl :
. “ It was the l of the lad Zoraya, the
gal ’3 daughter, noble Emir. e are going to
o ,

o.” I
“And who shall guard ye against robbers on
the way!" asked the stern voice, which Zoraya
thought she recognized. _
' She through the curtains of the litter,
and be 91 be ore her the figure of her knight,
his face stern and forbidding.

This was enough, for tho giddy princess used

find word law.

“What right has he to be angryi’"she said to

 

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herself instantly. “ I’ll show him \that the
Cziliph’s daughter is not to be questioned.”

She threw open the curtainsof her litter and
looked forth, still closely veiled.

" Who dares to stop my train in my father’s
dominions?” she asked imperiously. “Is Ali
Moudara weary of his duty .that he raises his
voice to my slaves? Retire, sir, and know your
dutv better.”

The cavalier looked very much astonished,
but did not lose his self- session; fer in a mo-
ment he had sprung off his horse and was bow-
ing low before the litter saying:

“Gracious princess, l crave pardon for my
rudeness, but surely I thought that you might
suffer some danger traversing this country, so
near the Almogavar robbers, without a full
escort."

“ Had Ali Moudara attended to his dut'v we
should not be without an escort,” answered the
little lady, pertly. “ You will find your 5 uiro,
sir knight, asleep under a palm tree y a
spring, and I wish him and his master pleasant
dreams. Drive on, Soudani.”

She spoke to the slave at the head of her mule,
and threw herself back on tho cushions of her
litter in a pettish mo ~d, half real, half affected.
She fully expected that the knight would rcmon-

strate, but to her surprise he only bowed and
replied:
‘I thank the gracious lady. I have been

looking for the rascal all day, since he left me
in bad plight in the mountains.”

Then, to Zoraya’s intense surprise and mor-
tificalion, be mounted bishorso, waved his hand
to the slaves, and cried out:

“ On to Toledo, as the lady says, and trot the
mules fast, or the gates will be shut ere ye
reach it. ”

That said, he galloped away, leaving several
rustics gaping after him and at the itters in
manifest awe and wonder at the brilliant spec-
tacle. As for Zoraya, she snatched the curtains
of her litter cl0so and burst into a flood of angry
tears. Such an insult had never before been
rendered to her, and it came all the kcener for
iisnovoity. She who had always been petted
and ndorod, found herself on a sudden openly
deserted by a Christian knight, whom she had
honored ubovo all other men. He had actually
taken her at her word, and had gone (if to loo
for a drunken squire leavin the Cult'ph’s
daughter to take care of horse! I

“ ()h, if ever I'seo him again, he shall repent
this!” she cried, clinching her tiny:l fists, her
(‘_\'<'s ilishirg through her tears. “ e was but
a simple. boy, a more bashful striplin', this
morning, and here be has assumed in a tr co the
airs of a Moslem soldier.

Merrily 'inglcd the bolls as the mules trotted
on at. speed, forthe slows were frightened at the
last. words of the cavalier, and hurried on
throng-h the slanting shadows of sunset toward
Toledo.

Zora ya went on talking to herself in an indig-
nant strain for some time, till the monotonous
finale of the bells began to soothe her into a sort
of dreamy state, while her anger lessened. She
lay back on her cushions and reflected:

“ After all, what consequence is it?d If ’I’

one,

merrily jingled the mule balls as the train
trotte on. '

“ But he was so handsome,” she pursued, “ and
he fought so bravely, and he was so respectful,
and he seemed to love me so well. I saw it in
his eyes as soon as he looked at me.”

Merrily jingled the mule bells, as if in mockery
and Zoraya began to cry again. .

“ Why did he take me at my word! ‘I did
not mean to send him away in earnest. What
shall I do? I have drivon him from me and I
shall never see him a'gain.” .

Merrily jingled the mule bells and her cour-
age began to revive. ‘

“Y I shall. 9 will come back. He was
but tr me. ' e was angry at the trick I
play h in and alarmed for my safety, and

rhaps ho is now riding behind our train u
so me from seein him.”

This thought insp red her so that she began to
lau h, and looked out of the little window at
the k of her litter. The train was winding
round the curve of a wood arid entering the
highway to Toledo, and she could see the pro—
cessiion from head to rear and some way be-
ycn .

But no cavalier was in sight. Then Zora a.
with a heart that boat strangely, parted he
curtains and looked out on either side.

No knight was to be seen nothin but the
black slaves, trotti along beside t 0 males,
gibcir faces shining th tho sweat of long exer-

on.

Yes, there was something more!

Zoraya gave a violent start as she saw it,
than laughed triumphantly and drew her cur-

tains.
“ Ah hat” she cried as she threw herself hack

on her pillows.
“ So my lord was g to that the Cali; ‘3
c all

daughter and bring her to his foot. ‘17
Seal

had recognised the stout thickest re
of the film she had left asleep under the
trees.

lili-
6 man must have recovered his senses

 

and followed them in some way; for there he
was, mounted on the identical gray mule the
had led away, and bearing his spear and kni a
with all the air of conscious virtue that befits a
man who has done his whole duty.

Now indeed Zoraya clapped her little hands
in glee, as she thought to herself how she had
discovered the trick her lover had played her.

“ He has gallopcd back, roused up his lazy
squire, driven him on in haste, and now is fol-
lowing us in hiding, that I may not see him.
Very well, Ali Moudara, we shall see who will
be sorry when we meet to-night."

Completely satisfied with this exiilanation of
affairs, the gidd beauty began to revolve
schemes for provo 'ing her lover when she met
him, and at the same time keeping him from
running awe again.

“It is 1110 (y that I thought of naming him
after All Moudara, the Lion of the Rock, ” ska
solilcquized. “ He has gone to Africa and will
not be back before the pilgrims come from
Mecca, so that my knight can take his place till
he returns. And then—”

“ Yes, what then, Zornya?” *

The thought made hi-r pause a moment; but
she was too much used to adventure to let a
possible future disaster daunt her.

“Never mind what then? Let it come. I'll
find a way to make things go smoothly. Per-
haps—who knows—I may make him a ocd
Moslein, and make my father marry me to iim.
The Vizier Al Mansour has often said that it
were gOod policy to marry our maids to Chris-
tiau knights of high degree, and so ea l the
Christians’ kingdom. It will be all right if Ali
Moudnra does not. come back too soon. He is‘
very like this Christian: but. for my part I never
liked him. He istoo haughty and fierce. My
knight is gentle as an angel, if he did lose his
temper over my little trick just now.”

Zoraya had seen the celebrated Moorish chief,
Sheer Ali Mon-lam a1 Gebel. twice in her life,
from the lattice of the harem box, when the
Vizier Al Mansour gave a great tournament,
and had thought him a handsome knight, but
nothing more. It was the great likeness she
had observed in Gonzalo to this Moorish knight
that had suggested to her the daring Scheme of
making him enter Cordova in false guise.

Now she begun to revolw plans to account for
his presence in Toledo in the assumed character,
and had concocted a scheme, marked by her
usual ingenuity, by the time that the jingling
mule bells had lulled her into a sort of done, as
the train kept on its way to Toledo.

She was suddenly awakened by the stoppage
of the litter, while the voiCes of men were heard
asking questions of the slaves, ,to vi hich the lat.—
tor replied as well as they could, for the men
seemed to be angry.

Then she heard the heavy bass voice of the
stout squire shouting out:

“Open the gate, ye fools! Do ye know no
better than to keep the Caliph’s daughter and
her train waiting like a pack of fig merchants!
lIere Comes my most noble master, Sheer All
Moudara al Gabe], shall teach you all mam
ncrs.” ‘ .

Then Zoraya heard a coarse laugh.

“ Whoso man tirt thou, child of a burnt
father? Sheer al Gebel is in Morocco not here."

“ Is he?" cried the squire in his loudest tones.
“Here he comes himself, ye dogs; and I am
Baba Moustafa, his favorite slave. Now what
say ye?” '

hen came the rapid gallop of a horse and the
voice of the false Ali Moudara cried out:

“What means all this? Open the gate!”

Zoraya raised herself to peep through the
curtains and listen smilin with eager interest:

“Now we shall See if e has his wits about
him," she thought. “ I can forgive him all if he
decoives these guards without my help.”

She saw that they were before the gate of
Toledo, lit bya single swinging lamp in the
cavernous archway, while a group of Moors, in
their ghostly white haiks or cloaks, were
clustered round the squire, holding up torchfs
and spears.

Now these same Moors were falling back in
awe  :the fillgsderingmflgure of the cavalier,
w o a u. ssmokin horse bet."
the princess’s fitter. up g

The squire began to talk before the Moses
could answer his master.

“NOW. ye sons of Eblis, you will believe in
my most valiant and noble master, the Lion of
the Rock Did We not scatter the Almogavar
robbers today, and repch the princess from
their infidel clutches, and are we not bound to
take them to Cordova alone? Out of the way
then, for I am Babe Moustafn,’slave to the Lion
of the Rock, who devours strong men as if they
wore lambs.”

h eraya laughed softly to herself and clapped
er ands.

“Well done, Poplin." she murmured. “Oh
this is: owelot I squire, if he does dflnkt‘o
much ne.”

St. a; hortyhiglit advance and speak with

ave an o I . ‘

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t gates swung open, and the long proces-

. lion of litters passed into the dark streets of
V Toledo.

Once fairly inside, Zoraya looked forth from
her curtains and distinguished the burly figure
of the squire beside her litter, when to her in-
tense amazement he leaned over to her in the
dark and whispered: -

“ It is all right, gracious lady. I will tell him
where to go, and he shall not be found out.”

flow or What was the difference Zoraya could
hardly tell, but in that moment she becamesat-
isfled in her own mind that this squire was not
Pepito, and that he was also acquainted with
the imposture she was practicing on the Moors.

Who he was, and how he came by his mys
terious likeness to Pepito, she could not settle in
her own mind, but the discovery caused her no
uneasiness.

Whoever this new squire was, he seemed to
be a merry fellow, capable of intrigue, and
just the aid she wanted for her audacious
scheme.

Instantly she resolved to make a friend of this
man, and bribe him to use all his wits in her
service. She slipped oil’ one of her rings and
held it out to him in the dark, and the astute
scamp took it as if it had been broad daylight.
Then he nodded.

“ I will see to it. gracious lady.” he whispered,
as he fell back, and then she saw the form of his
master beside the litter as they rode on.

The knight came up close beside the litterand
murmured in a low voice:

“ 0h, Zoraya, how I have suflercd! I missed
thee, and have only just found thee at last. Ah,
lad y, how couldst thou he so cruel to the knight
that adores thee?”

Tue girl lau hed saucily.

"Indeed, a ikely tale, sir knight. I did not
leave thee. ’Twas thou that must needs ride oil‘
after a sleeping squire in preference to riding
by a fair lady 5 side. I think that, were I
right, I should send thee back to thy Christian
home.”

“ That is the only thing I might not do,” re-
lied the cavalier, sadly. “ I am thy slave till
eath, as thou knowest; but I may not leave

thee." °

, Zoraya smiled in the darkness. The soft
melancholy of his time was music to her ear, for
it is a fact that lovers are apt to rejoice in each
other’s miseries, when those miseries are caused
by the idea of absence or banishment.

Then the train stopped before a large dark
building, and the squire, who had called him-
self Babe. Moustafa, made a tremendous racket,
at the door with his long lance, roaring:

“Place for the noble Emir, Sheer-al-Gebel,

ardian of the Princess Zoraya, and her ladies.
gupen, ye lazy dogs. ”

Zoraya knew the building as one of the
Caliph’s numerous alaces, and one of the sta-
tions at which she ad expected to stop. Baba
Moustafa seemed to be thoroughly acquainted
with the place and its inmates, for in less than
five minutes the train had entered the court

ard, the ladies had been escorted to the cham-

rs of the harem by a crowd of obs quious

slives; when for the first time it was discov-
ered that Panchita was missing.

Instantly all was excitement among the ‘rls
in the harem, but the impractical nature 0 the
ladies asserted itself at once, and half an hour
was wasted in a buzz of conversation, inquiry
and conjecture, before Zora a took the resolu-
tion of informing the head 0 the harem guards
of the disappearance, and asking him to search
for Panchita.

After another hour .of anxious waiting the
chief reap ared with the news that the lad
had fled With a horse belonging to the Mooris
Patrol, and had passed out of the gate to Cor-
dova.

Then Zoraya stain her little foot angrily

. and sent word that s e wished to see Sheer Ali

Moudara. The chief of the guards objected on
the score of etiquette, but the imperious beauty
overcame all 0 position and the young knight
was brought before her. -

The Culiph’l daughter looked very angry.

“ So, sir, on have aided Panchita to escape,
and are no oubt waiting your time to slip away
and rejoin her. it so. I will not wait to
be abandoned. Go. I dismiss you, and only on
one condition will I receive you again. Bring
'me back Panchita. or never see my face again."

She aned her hand haughtin and retired,
leaving the knight in a state of Itupefactiou.

CHAPTER VIII.
m sacrum or LARA.

Wm Panchita left her late defenders go
abruptly at the gates of the Abbey of St. Ursu-
la, Pepito could not avoid the dry observation:

“If all women are as grateful as this one,
your worship might better turn monk and for-
swear them. ’

1353 master uttered a deep sigh one he re-
ie :
p “ Speak not against her, Baha, I must endure
all from her; for she is my lady.”
The squire kept on his grow ing in the dark.

 

' non to which they were exiled:

“A plague onall kuighthood.ifthisiswhat
lthrlogsa maul Heremwglikeopalrof

The Pads;de nights.

chickens shut out of the hencoop, and nowhere
to roost.”

Again the kni ht checked him gently.

“A true knig t thinks naught of his body
when his soul is sad, Baba. My lady is cruel
and wishes me to deny my name and faith;
therefore must I wait till she relents.”

“Then I would that your worship would al-
low we to take mine own name,” returned Pe
pito, stiflly. “ We are away from the Moors
now, and there is no reason why, in a Christian
land, I should go by the name of a heathen
slave, Bab l.”

“ Thou sayest well, Baba,” replied the knight,
in a thoughtful tone. “ It may be best, while
we are here to let thee take another name.
What shall I call thee’l Thou always hadst a
ready wit to plan schemes.”

“Your worship can do no better than call me
by my own name, Pepito. It is plain to speak
and to hear.”

“ Be it so, Pepito. Now let us go to the castle,
since Allah has brought us beside it.” .

Pcpito uttered a cry of amazed horror.

“The \Vizard’s Castle, master mine! The

home of Ru Velasquezl No, not there, for the
love of St. ago!”
“ And why not, slave?” demanded the knight

‘in his haughtiest tones, as if irritated at the op-
position.

“ For the love of your father, the honor of
your mother, by the blood of your brethren
slain by the Moor,” cried the squire, in tones of
earnest entreaty, “I do beseech your worship
not to enter that accur<ed pile. Every stone is
sealed with the stamp of the Evil One, and the
mortar was slaked in the blood of Lara.”

“ And whet is that to moi” asked the knight,
coldly. “ I that have neither kith nor kin, why
speakest thou of father, mother and brethren?
What is all the evil fame of this castle to me?
I am a true Believer, and def Ehlis and all his
angels. Let us go and see this Ruy Velasquez.
I would know what or nner of man is this my
mother taught me to hate.”

“As for that, it is soon told,” said Pepito,
eagerly. “ I can tell vour worship, ere we en-
ter the castle and sully the honor of Lara by
breaking bread with its deadliest foe.”

“ And who spoke of breaking bread?” asked
the knight, coldly. “ Thinkest thou that a
Moslcm would break bread with the man he
hates? I will go to his castle and see the man
face to face, that I may know if it be the same
my mother told me of. Then we shall see what
will happen."

“What will happen 1” echoed Pe ito, excited-
ly. “Treachery and murder will appen, as it
did twenty yearsxsince. Your worship will be
slain from behind without a chance for life, and
the house of Lara will indeed be dead."

“And therefore thou fearest to come,” was
the reply, in a chilling tone. “ Be it so, Babs;
thou needst not follow.”

He turned and rode away into the le gloom
of the low moonlight toward the ark pile of
buildings that towered on the opposite side of
the valley from the abbey. and was known far
and near as the Wizard’s Castle.

Before he had taken a dozen steps, Pepito was
beside him, saying:‘

“Your worship shall see if I fear.
die together.”

Theeknight nodded his head.

“ I thought thou wouldst come,” was all be
answered; and then they ro‘de straight toward
the castle. -

They were soon under the fortress, which
frowned over the valley from the summits of a
dozen towers, flanking the massive walls.

Around the whole of the castle ran a deep
and broad moat, full of water, in which the
rising moon was reflected; and the drawbridge
had risen into the air for the night, while the
castle was dark and silent. "

Making a sign to his squire to follow, the
knight turned his horse and rode slowly all
round the castle by the edge of the moat, ex-
amining the defenses.

The Wizard’s Castle, as it was known throth-
out Castile, was a strong and well-placed or.
tress, as it had need to be from its tion,
clbse to the Moorish frontier: full in e path
of the Vizier Al Mansour, in his annual raids
through Christian kingdoms.

Built on a slight eminence at one side of the
valley, it was surrounded by open country, in
whic no enemy could conceal himself. At a
little distance awn ran the rivelet named
Chico, from which t moat was supplied with
water; and here it was that All Mon ara paused
before a singular-looking structure on which the
moonbeams shone with weird elect.

It resembled a minaiture castle, but was ele-
vated some six feet from the ground on a li ht
frame of poles, and the castle itself was ful of
M23, and to be made of worm-eaten
w

“ What is that, Babs?” asked the knight, in a
tone of curiosity.

Pepito crossed himself and shuddered Via»
gently before he answered, in a low tone of

0 I

We can

 

 

coward and traitor Ruy Velasquez that sent
them to their fate l”

The cavalier looked shaigily at his squire.

“ Wilt thou never have one with thy riddles,
Baba Moustafa? Who were these Brothers of
Lars, and what have we to do with them?”

“ If your worship has for otten his own kin-
dred under the spell of a oorish enchantress,
it is not for me to open his eyes,” answered
Pepito, sullenly. ,.

His master frowned impatiently, and then
laughed.

“ Tell the story thine own way, then, Baba,”
he said. “ Pretend that I know nothing of my-
self, and then sa who were these Brothers of
Lara, and what is this tubludo?”

The squire shrugged his shoulders and nodded
his head slowly in the same uneasy manner.

“ Your worship keeps up the pla better than
I can; but I always was a fool. will tell, if
your worship will listen.”

“That I will do willingly, Baba.”

“ If your worship would only call me Pepito,
it would feel much better to me.” *

“ Go on, then, Pepito.
Brothers of Lara f"

" Your worship knows that Don Gonzalo
Sanchez. Count of Lara, married Dona Sancho,
sister of Roy Velasquez, who owns this accursed
castle before us. The count became the father
of seven noble sons, from Feru‘an, the eldest, to
Gonzalo the oungest.”

" Go on, :iba—I mean Pepito,” said the
knight, as Pepito paused.

The squire looked at him steadily as if he
were amazed.

h“ D’oes not the tale seem familiar to yOur wor—
s ipl'

“ Not a whit, Pepito. How should it?”

Pepito shrugged his shoulders and gave a sigh
ere he resumed: '

“ Dona Sancha’s sons were grown to man—
hood when their uncle, Ruy Velasquez, took
him for a Wife Dona Lambra, sister of the
Count ’of Castile. The seven young men. the
Brothers of Lara, were invited to the wedding,
which took place at this very castle twenty
years ago." .

The knight looked round him with interest.

“This, then, is the castle of which ‘I have
heard my mother speak, where dwells Lambra,
the Witch." _

“ Ay, senor, and a witch she is. They set up
this tablado that we see here in honor of the
festivities, for the knights to cast the hood,“
and one Alvar Funez, a cousin of Dona iamhra,
had struck the little window in the tower that
was to be the mark, nearer than, any of them.
The bride was full of oy that her kinsmau
should win the prize. nd then came youn
Don Gonzalo. the youngest of the Brothers 0
Lara, being but a lad of sixteen, and beat them
all: for be cast his dart so that itentered the
window, touched the spring that held the
structure together; and the tablado fell to

leces.

“ Well done, Gonzalo!”
heartily. “ And what said the knights when a
boy beat them all?”

“Some applauded; but Alvar Funcz was
furious and swore that Gonzalo’s dart had- not
been thrown, but pushed like a lance. Then the
boy grew an ry in turn, gave him the lie and
broke his teet with a blew.”

“ This Gonzalo bad spirit, meseems,” observed -
the cavalier thoughtfully.

“Ah, my master, they were all noble boys.
How well I remember them, for I was their
servant then, thou h only a boy myself.”

The knight at him in surprise.

“Thou their servant! Why. Babe. Moustafa!
—hut never mind. Go on. Of a surety thou
wast born under a star of lies. Go on, ' .”

The nire did not notice the sarcastic em-
phasis 0 his master, for he seemed lost in his
own memories. He went on in a dreamy .tone
asif tryin tones“ the past.”

“ Dona bra never forgave that blow.
though the counts of Lara and Castile pre-
vented an open quarrel. She bided her time
and vemnce came at last. The old Count of
Lara was sent by the King of Ron on an en»
bass to Alliansour, the infidel Vizier, whom
8t. ago confound.”

“ Hold,” in the knight sfernly.‘
“Tell thy tale as t on wilt. Babs, but beware
of slander-lug the great Al Mansour, for I owe
him all I am." '

Pepito bowed his head.

“I will remember. master mine. After all,
the Moor was not to blame so much as the
Christian. Dona Lambra sent to the Vizier a
secret letter, by which she warned him that the
count was a spy. whom the King of Leon wished '
to be killed: and that his sons .would lead a raid
into the Moor-’0 domains while their father was
talking peace at Cordova. Then she feigned
friendship for them. and Ray Vela led an
army toward Cordova, wit the rothers of
Lara among his chiefs. The boys thought their
father had come back: but Al Humour, on

 

rror.

“Does not our worship know! That is the
tablado for w oh the Brothers of Lara suflered
death. Gun“ on the witch Lambra and the

\

Who were these ,

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nosing the letter, had detained him as a riscner,
had the Moors surprised the army of uy Vel-
asquez, who fled like a bare, leaving the
Brothers of Lara to be taken by the Moors.”

“ This Buy Velasquez was a villain,” observed '

the cavalier gravely. “ I begin to understand
why my mother told me so, but not what in-
jury he hath done me and mine.”

“That will oome scan enough,” answered the
squire si iflcantly. “ Your worship is not sup-

sed to 'now what happened before you were

rn. The brothers of Lara would have been
spared, but for Dona Lambra, who sent an-
other letter to the captain of the Moors, tellin
him he w the Vizier Al Mansour had commands
that they should be slain, with their tutor,
Nuno Salido.”

“ Nuno Salidol” echoed Ali Moudara in a tone
of recognition. “Why, Babe. Moustafa, that
was thy father, was it not? Surely I have
heard the Vizier say as much.”

“ it needs no vizier to vouch for my father,”

' answered Pepito, proudly. “ He died, as 1 hope

,to die, true to Lara; for he had been with his

old master at Cordova when Al Mansour im-

gzisoned him, and the Vizier had let him go
ck to his own home.”

"Yes, but he had been there many times be-
ersisted the knight. “ I have heard the

eat 1 Mansour tell how he had been a great

aveier in his oath, and the Caliph had given
him his slave dijah to wife, but the Chris-
tian fled one night to his own home, before thou
wast born, Babe.” _
" Pepito stared at his master, and then slowly
repl'ed:

“ t may be so, your worship; but I can
swear I never knew it, for my mother was no
heathen slave, but a free woman of tho Asturias,
Aldon“ Gomez by name."

The knight coughed slightly.

“Go on,” he said. We are in Christian
lands now. What became of this old Count of
Lara, who was left in the hands of Al Mansour,
after his sons Were slain?”

“ Your worship, AI Mansour is not so bad as
other Moots. He had meant to keep them all
prisoners and restore them to freedom, but the
work of the Witch Lambra had spoiled all his

ions. When the seven heads were brought to

in, the say that the Vizier was melted to
tea on at once released the poor count and
‘Bent im home.”

“ That indeed was like him,” replied the cav-
alier warmly. “ My brave protector, better
than any father wast thou to me. And so the
floor count was sent home. Methinks he should

ave sought out Ruy Velasquez for van.

“Alas, my master, ho was at sixty, while
Velasquez was in the prime of] e. What could
he do but wait, till his son grew old enough to
av his brethren?”

“ ad he then another son?” demanded the
cavalier in a tone of up rent interest.

Pepito stamped his cat on the ground with
unconcealed anger at what he deemed an un-

“Your worship should know unless this
Moorish woman hath bewitched him entirely!
‘Did we not both loave the halls of Lara, not
ten days since; when Dona Sancho, your most
,nobie mother, blessed on, herself, and sent you
forth to win glory, w ile the most noble Count
of Lara, our father, told me to follow you and
never to et you know the wrongs of your dead
brethren till we stood alone by 0 Black Castle?
Here we are now, Don Gonzalo, child of Lara’s
gray hairs, and yonder is the home of your
mortal foe. Ruy Velasquez. What should we doi”
The cavalier had remained staring thought-
fully at the bluff squire while he spoke, for
' there was something in Pa ito’s honest indigna-
tion that compelled respec
When he demanded “ What should we do?”

' natural question.

‘ the knight throw n his lance in the air and

struck the tablado all on the window of the

center towar with the point of his spear, crying

out:

“This is what an honest knight should do,
who hears such a story, Pepito."

The squire nodded his head like one well satis-
fied as the knight rc atod the blow, and then
the whole edifice of t o tablado fell apart in a
hundred pieces, while a bell in the castle began
to toll loudly and shouts were heard from tho

.. ramparts.

The fact was that the two had been in full
view from the ramparts all the while, and had
become an object of much suspicion to the
guards who patrolled the summit.

They had been seen riding silently round the
walls and afterward to halt before the tablodo.
Therefore when that structure fell to pieces
with a loud crash, the watchers began to toll
the boll and call out the garrison.

The kni ht lacked toward the castle and

' asked care essly:

“ Think you they will avenge this insult?”

Pe ito laughed grimly in answer.

“ f course my master; but two men in the
open are we h ton in stone walls.”

As he spoke the drawbrid fell with a crash,
and a part of horsemen g ioped toward then
from t e Wizard’s Castle, shouting out all sorts

A d threats.

1

 

The maul-«swims.

 

 

CHAPTER IX.
'rnn soumn‘s nscarn.

WHEN the youn'r knight saw the horsemen
coming in earnest, he turned to Popito with a

u h.

“gNow let us see what these clumsy Christian
dogsm do,”he observed, cool] as if there
were no danger. “Stay where t on art, and

'I’ll show thee one of my best tricks.”

So saying, he shook his bridle and galloped
toward the enemy, waving his long, slender
lance in the air and crying aloud:

“Allah Akbar! I am Sheer Ali al Gebel, the
Lion of the Rock! Down with all Christian
dogs!”

As for Pepito, he remained behind a moment,
muttering:

“Surely he must have drank in some en-
chanted goblet, sinco I lost him, for he forgets
evorything and fancies himself a Moslem."

Then, as he saw that the enemy were at least
twenty to one, he set spurs to his own horse
and swung his short mace aloft to help his mas-

ter.

At that mementhe regretted, as never before
the loss of his old Almogavar spear, for he did
not feel at home fighting on horseback, and
would have vastly referred the solid ground
under his feet to e shovel stirrups of the
Moorish saddle.

But long before he could come up with his
master, the latter‘had snddenl turned, like a
hawk on the wing, skirting t 9 front of the

ronp of Spanish horsemen, and Pepito saw the
on plumed lance go darting throu the air,
its t e cavalier cast it into the indst of his

oes.
Then came a loud yell of agon as one of the
horsemen throw up is arm an fell dead from
his. horse, pierced through and through by the

flying lance.

The Christians wheeled in a bod to pursue
the audacious foe, and Popito foun himself he-
hind them, for_his master seemed to have on.
tirely engrossed their notice.

This enabled the squire, mounted as he was
on a swift Moorish mare, to como up with the
heavier Christian chargers from behind, are
they had seen him, and to knock two men out
of their saddles, senseless, with two tape of his
spiked mace at the back of their heads.

Then followed general melee, in which the
Christians scatte in confusion before two
men, but in which Po ito and his-aster taking
no heed of where ey were going, me
separated from each other, now pursuing, and
anon ursued, as man after man came dashing
out o the castle to help his brethren against the

strangers.

Final] Pe ito found himself so much over-
mate in t e contest that he was fain to turn
his horse and trust to flight for safety.

His course took him down the valley toward
the pass by which he had entered it that morn-
ing], and he had much ado tomako his esca
an armed; for, while his maro was natural y
much faster than the animals of his ursuers,
she had been ridden hard that do , w ile their
chargers were fresh from the ate 6.

However thanks to blood and breeding, two
thin in w ich the Moors have always followed
the ootsteps of the Oriental Arabs, he managed
to outpace the men of the Black Castle at last.
and to reach the end of the valley far inad-
vance of them all.

Once there, he felt comparatively safe. for he
was at home among the rocks, mounted or on
foot, and his enemies did not care to pursue him
there, for fear of the Almogavars.

Pepito did not ride for after reachin the
mountains. Not only was his mare tire but
he himself was hung and exhausted, for
he had eaten nothing Since the previous even-

in . ~

ile dismounted and unsaddlod the mare, turn-
in her loose to crop the grass of a little Valley
w erein ho had taken refuge and then pro-
coeded to investigate the saddle—bags of his
mount. ,

He knew that the Moorish kiaschefs, being
constant] on patrol, were wont to carry pro-
visions w1th them, and much to his satisfaction
found that his saddle was provided with a store
of dr cakes of barley and some dates.

“ ermft‘s fare; but better than nothing,”
quoth Po ito to himself, as he finished the con-
tents of t e saddle-bag at one sitting.

His appetite was keen, and the needs of an ab-
stemious Moor were very different from those
of the lusty squire. '

Once satisfied, he nnstrappod from the saddle-
bow the long white clcak of tho defunct kins:
chef whose. Elplace ho had taken, and commit
himself to umber, careless of tho fnture.~

It was almost sunrise when ho awoke, and
found the mare feed contentedly near him,
for the creature was w used to watching over
a sleeping master and knew the white hail: fu-
miliar y.

She snorted a little ahd seemed surprised
when he approaohed her to snub again, but
made no resistance or attempt to , deceived
byhislloorish dress; and Popitowos toowory
to frighten her by any hmry or rough inan-

ners.
‘ Shortly after, he nods out into the main val-

. . 4

 

ley, and could see, far away in the distance, the
gloomy towers of the Wizard’s Castle.

There were no signs of his late pursuers how—
ever, and Pepito rode awa toward the pass of
the Almogavars to try an find his master.

It was several hours’ ride, and the squire was
beginning to feel hungry again, when he reached
the pass and saw below him the great plain of
Toledo, with its canals and tanks glittering in
ghedsun, surrounded by blooming gardens and

e s.

Pepito naturally kept a sharp lookout for tho
Almogavar robbers. He knew that yesterday’s
punishment while it might deter them from

0mg into the plains, would render them all the
coast among the rocks; and he was not
wrong.

As he approached the mouth of the pass,
where the road from Burgoo to Toledo entered
it, he distinguished moving figures among the
rocks, and their actions convinced him that
they were Almogavars, who had ied sumo
one in the plain below coming towar the
and were arranging an ambush for the unwary
traveler. '

Full of anxiety as to how he would fare, for
be well knew the relentless savagery of the Al~
mogavars, Pepito rode slowly forward, first
stringing his bow and bringing his quiver to tho
front.

He found that he had onlyfléour arrows loft,
and determined to make a h for it, trusting
to the speed of his xnaro for escape.

Accordingly, giving her a free win he shot
down the pass to the high road at full speed
turned the corner of the mountain, which had
bid part of the plain, and came in full view of
the scene of yesterday’s conflict.

There were the bodies of the slain, still --
buried, and a number of wild figures were run-
ning down the mountain, while a pair of mount-
ed men were ascending the from the plain
belgw, entering the ambus quite unsuspect»

in .

geypito uttered aloud shout of warnin as ho
galic on, and saw that his cry was flooded.

or t 6 two travelers stopped.

Shouting louder than ever, for he could see
that some of the Almogavars had already got
behind them unseen, the squire dashed on.

But he was too late to save them entirely.

Just as he came within fifty yards, a dozen
wild men, with their long rs, ran into the
road close by, and the fightgan.

Pepilo gave a last shout— or he had recog-
nized his master in one of the horsemen—and
rushed into the fight, shooting his arrows at the
Almogavars.

A wild, confused, running battle followed, the
three men attacked makingrfor the open coun-
try; and ten minutes later epito and his man-
ter were in the plain below going at full
for Toledo, their horses slig tl wounded a
dozen places, but still uncrippl while the third
horseman whoever he was, had disappeared,
and the trium t shouts of the Almogavars
told too well h fate.

The last thi Pepito saw as he looked back
was a knoelinfiguro that seemed to supplicato
for mercy, while the Almogavsro Were dancing
round it in savage glee.

1TIE—n he turned to his young masteer cried
a on : -

“ Faith, master mine, we are alwavs in luck,
but it is fated that we shall turn Modems in
earnest. The way to Christendom is barred for
good now.

 

CHAPTER X.
“in nounnns.

Pnrn‘o's master checked his horse, now that
they were out of danger, and eyed Peplto in a
manner e ive of some wonder.

“I thought they had thee, Pepi ,” he said.
“ I could have sworn I saw them spear the gray
mule thou lovest so well; et here thou art on a
mare as ood as mine, and unhurt. How didst
than do ill” .

“ Faith, uyour worship should know, since I
lost m m e yesterdav—worse luck—and your
womb played the oorish cavalier so well
that the kiaschef gave me his horse."

The kneigjht looked more surprised than before
as he ask : -

“ And when did this ha pen?”

“ Surely your worship Knows that it was 366‘
terda , after I met your worship, when we
took _ a lad Panchita to the convent—”

Peplto o with some impatience, for he be.
gun to think his master was intentionally mys-
tifying him; but before he could finish the knight
interrupted him with a manner of intense eager-v
ness~

“ The Lady ~Panchita sayst thou? Where in
she, in the name of the blessed Virgin?”

“ In the convent of St. Ursula to the best of
my knowledge, senor,” answered Pepito. ‘

“ How come she there?” pursued the knight,
his tone becoming fierce in its eager“ .

“ She went in at the flats, master mine, and
leftuont h the cold, 9 a. pair ofohiobons
looked out of to hen-house,” answered Poplin,
grinning at tho recollection. “ m a “my
trick for a lady to plalynus, but thorois no new,
suring a woman’s wh s. '

 

.  .. _ “.a...»

d ’6'
ii.

  

.w... .‘w.. . 

  
  

His master looked at him in silence a moment,
as if not knowing what to say, and then do—
manded, with lips that seemed to be compressed
with a great effort to keep dowu rising passion:

“Left whom outside? Who was With thee
when ye stole this lady away from my care,
Pepito?"

“Wh , unless I have been asleep for two
whole ays, I should say ’twas your worship
was with me last night, and the Lady Panchita
grew so angry because you called yourself Ali
Moud
Good-big t.”

“Now, by heaven, Pepito Nunez, thou liest," ‘

cried the knight, white with ssion.

“ Last night we were wan ering the lains of
Toledo to ether, thou and I. hunting t is wan-
dering lacfy from hamlet to hamlet, till that old

y mule nearly dropped ”

“ Not me, our worshi ,” interrupted Pepito,
for the first time in his ife daring to cut in on
his master‘s words. “By the chastity of the
Blessed Virgin, I was in the mountains since
yesterday noon, and I met the lady before I
saw your worship.”

They were walking their horses along toward
Toledo, both .men getting more excited every
moment. when they were interrupted by the
loud and discordant braying of a mule behind

them.

Pepito turned in amazement, and beheld his
long lost gray mule trotting after the horses
head and tail up, braying out its joy in the us .
fashion of mules.

“Oh, Manchado, Manchado,” cried the de-
li hted squire, forgetting in a moment all the
dgpute as he caught sight of his old friend,
“where have you been, and
awa froni me in the ni ht?”

His master suddenly c sipped him on the shoul-
der and pointed to the m e.

“ Dost thou mean that thou wast not on that
mule an hour ago in my rear, coming up the
pass?” he asked, fiercely}.

“ Nay, master mine, ow could that be, when
I was galloping down the on this mare, to
warn on of the snare of t e Almogavarsf”

The ht struckjiis hand to his head in a
fashion that denoted extreme bewilderment.

“Then I have been bewitched b the wise
men of Toledo." he exclaimed, “ an the Evil
One himself must have taken thy shape to de-
ceive me."

Pepito stared at his master in superstitious
terror and faltered out:

“And has your worship been followed by a
man in my likeness?”

“ Yes, Po ito; I thought ’twas thee, though

how did you get

he pretend among the Moors that his name
was Baba Moustafa”.
Immediately Pepito all 08 his horse, fell
financesbythoroadsi andbegantopray
n

e :

“Oh, ySt. Iago and Sr. Isidore, patrons of
Castilo save us from the clutches of the Evil
One. Iwill give three pounds of wax candles
to each of your shrines, and walk barefoot
to Com tella in the snow, so ye do not ve
nieu the Wicked Pursuer! Oh, Don on-
zalo, Slasher mine, we are undone, or at least I
am. It must have been the Evil One in my
aha , that comes to tell me 1 must die within a

I am lost forever!”

Don Gonzalo, though the superstition of the
age had infected him deeply, was not quite so
much frightened as his squire.

“ This man, Babs. Moustnfaé was no spirit of
onchantment, Pe ito ” he sai , gravely. “He
was flesh and hood, and it is clear that the
Almogavars have slain him, and let the mule
go as worthless. See, the poor creature is cov-
ered with blood, where t ey have pricked it
with their 5 ”

Pepito loo sadly at the mule, and then rose
suddenly up, ing in a vindictivs tone:
“ I am glad o it. The thief deserves all the

deaths a sinner can die, for daring to per-sonata
a ood Christian.” d t. f t .
e itofetvoryin ignan ori is a curious
fact Ehat pegple who for the first time find an-
er resem ing them strongly in rson and
feature, are apt to conceive an instinctive and
violent repugnance to the same.

Don Gonzalo, on his part, began to cross-er
amine his squire.

“Thou sayest, thou sawest the lady Panchita
yesterday, and took her to a convent. Where
was this convent?”

Pe ito became grave in a moment.

r‘ l}; was the convent of St Ursula, under the
walls of the Wizard’s Castle, master mine,” he
answered.

“ The Wizards Castle! Where is that!” asked
Gonzalo, curiously. .

“Surelyl told your worship the story only
last night,” replied Pepito in 8 puzzled sort of
way: and then started as a sudden thought
struck him.

" Where was our worship last night?”

“ Out in the plains of Toledo with this Baba
Moustafa.”

“ Then your worship is bewitched too, for I
swear that only last night the Lady Panchita
entered that convent, leaving me outside with
another cavalier, who was as like your worship

‘, notwo peas."

.|.

that she left us without so much as 1

l .n... a......,uw.. A..._-

 

we... a..-“ -4 w.......... 7

WV:

flap: 1 H; «K '. V

 I’hantoin Knigv ’1' his

Don Gonzalo turned pale and his eyes began
to sparkle oiaously.

“ And this knight, thou sayest, was with the
Lady Panchitai”

“ Ay, your worship, and the lady seemed to
be quite satisfied, for she called him her knight,
and quarreled with him because he would not
answer to the name of Don Gonzalo of Lara.”

“And did he. dare to assume my name, this
heathen impostor‘l” asked Don Gonzalo, vicious-
ly, forgetting that the squire had just affirmed
the contrary by implication.

“ Faith, your worship, he seemed to be ready
to take an name the lady wished, and behaved
as much li e a. foolish lover as a knight could be
expected to do.”

“Then by the Light of Heaven I will seek
out this impostor and chastise him,” cried Gon-
zalo furiously. “ He has enticed awa Panchita,
and embroiled me with the sweetest ady in the
world, and he dies for it. Follow me.”

“But, your worship is not going to try and
pass the Almogavars again,” cried epito
aghast, as Don Gonzalo turned back to the

pass.
“ See if I do not,” was the obstinate reply.

 

CHAPTER XI.
THE KIABCHEFS.

PEPTI‘O NUNEZ was, as we know, a brave
man, but be had a fund of stron common
sense which prevented him from in ul 'ng in
the extravagant vagaries of chivalry. e saw
that his master was madly set on returning
thro h the Pass of the Almogavars, to revenge
him on his double, and he knew that the at
tempt could only end in his death.

Riding up beside him therefore, the stout
squire be to plead earnestly with the knight.

“ Don nzalo, master mine," he began “ con-
sider, sir knight, that in on lies the only hope
of the house of Lara. T e count your father
has sent you forth to gain experience as a war-
rior and will you throw your life away like a
madman! See the vars! There are at
least fifty of them there, and we can never get
through alive."

“ I will tell the Almogavars my mission, and
they will let me pass," replied Gonzalo obsti-
natel , still walking his horse forward.

“ hey will not hsten," retorted Pepito earn-
estly. ‘See how— Hark! what is that?”

Behind them, on the road, they heard the
clatter and clash of a body of cavalry coming
at a gallop, and Gonzalo cried out triumphant-

1y.

“ It is the kiaschefs under Meer Haroun Abd
Allah. He knows me only as Sheer Ali Mou-
dara al Gebel, and will be! me. We will use
the Moslems to beat the mogavars. Pe ito,
and thou and I will escape while these In dels
ilvhtrpur battles for-sis. Is not that a good
p an

Pepito smiled more complacently, for the
idea suited hiscommon sense.

“ That will be splendid, if we can do it, master
mine; but perhaps they will not run into dan—
ger. They know these Almogavars are bad fel-
lows amon their rocks. "

In fact, he savage robbers of the pass did
not seem to be much alarmed at the a proach
of the cloud of dust which revealed tfie kins-
chefs on their daily patrol. The AlmogaVars
could be seen forming a line across the road
which was the only means of ascending the
pass, and their numbers were sufficient to oc-
on y it from side to side.

n Gonzaloand Pepito halted to await the
Moorish column, which numbered several hun-
dred men; and very soon as the knight had
gedicted Meer Haroun Abd Allah, the white-

arded chief came cantering up and halted be-
side them, while his men, at a ,silent signal
made a complete circle round knight and

squire.

“Welcome, Miser Haroun," cried Don Gon-
zalo, Joyfully. “ You are just iii time to clear
out those Almogavars for us. They attacked
usbut aniew moments ago. You know me, I

8“

The old Moor looked at him gravely and re-
plied in a hesitating way:

“I have seen your lor ship before, but am not
certain. What is our honorable name?"

“ I am Sheer Moudara a1 Gebel, the Lion
of the Rock,” said the kni ht, boldly.

“ And my lord can ouhtless repeat the
Fatiba " (confession of faith), rejoined Meer
Haroun.

Gonzalo looked at him curiously.

“ What meanest thou, man?"

They had been using the current liflgua Mo-
resca, common to Moors and Spaniards in thOBe
days, and this was the only reason that the
km ht had escaped detection so long among the
Mos ems.

Now Meer Haroun changed his language and
said slowl : ’ p

“ Bismilla hi Rahmam' raheem. Hi Rahnumi,
hi maliki, you mideen.”

" The first words of the Koran, which are commit-
ted to memoragay all Moslems. Th mean: “ In
the name of 1). Most Merciful of he Memifull
Most Merciful, Most Good of all Beings!“ etc.

 .- .-.L.--—mswm .

r once se ted themselves from the main bg?’ '
n

 

-. "-' .,
‘1‘” i u.

:13 

Gonzalo looked puzzled, and as for Pepito, his
quick wits told him that all was found out. .‘

Meer Haroun smiled grimly at their confu- '
sion, and then spoke to Gonzalo.

“ M lord, whoever you are, you are my pris-'
oner, y order of the great Vizier, Al Mansour,
whom may Allah protect.” s

For one moment Gonzalo thought of resist—
ance, and looked fiercely round him; but twenty
spear- ints were already presented at him. and
cum ' wild spirit saw that the contest was
useless. .

With a haughty sneer he threw down his , ‘.
lance in the road. ' ‘

“ I am your prisoner,” he said, “ but ye cuii '
never deny that a Christian knight, sin le-band- . -
ed, slew your best men and traversed t e streets '
of Toledo alone. Take me to your Vizier. I 1
can die for the faith.” . i
d The old Moor smiled and shrugged his shoul- '
ers. ‘ r _.

“It is not a question of dying for any re- " . <'
ligion, sir knight, ’ he said dryly, “ but of spy- '»
ing out a strange land under the disguise of an-
other, and he the adopted son of the great Al

nsour. When the true Lion of the Rock V‘ y. H;
comes back from Africa he will be able to shew 'j.
whether he deserves the title.” ' . ,f’ ,

Gonzalo flushed slightly under the old man’s
taunts, but he maintained his hardihood.

“Lead on to Cordova. Meer Haroun, and
spare me thy sermons,” he retorted, impa-
tiently. “I am somewhat of a fighter myself,
as your Abim Amar found out, an I may show 
your Lion of the Rock that I laugh at his claws ‘ 5’3";
and teeth in a fair field.” , -«

“My son,” replied the old Moor, with his _
usual imperturbable gravity, “it is written: 7' .f‘
‘Young men, despise not the counsels of white ‘ x '
hairs.’ In another place the wise man saith:
‘The booster before a fight is not always the

 

victor.’ Give up th sword and mace, and let ‘ - ,

us be on our way, or we must ride hard for 

Cordova.”  1w. , a
With the same sullen d' ityhehad shown  a

before. Gonzalo submit to be disarmed, ', , .
while Pe ito, with a humorous resignation that ' .1 3v _

did him nor, handed over his weapons to one .‘
of the kiaschefs saying: \ .  3?
“It serves us both right, IndyJ masters. I do- , . , ,
serve it for leaving my Man ado and taking 3 .9. "
to horseflesh. May I once more change to my ..
old friend?” v_ . v
No objection was made to the transfer, and " r;
the squire was soon mounted on his sober my ;
u ' is-

mulé, which brayed out its satisfaction in

crous tones of joy. ‘ .
Then the who e rty turned their backs on 7'1 

the pass of the m vars, followed by a‘ '

taunting yell of triump from the hill robbers, ' -- '.

who imagined they had frightened away the ’

oors.
Meer Haroun heard the yell andgave some , ,_ ,
orders to his men, of whom a arge detachmenta .4?

 

 

 

andga opedtoward the pass. The lastthin
Gonzalo saw of them, ere they were dden , r
from sight by the corner of the wood, the 
Moors were hovering in front of the bill men.

shoifing their arrows and evading a closer at- \ .4
tac ' ‘
Then the wood interrupted the view and the 3:3,?

train started at a rapid amble toward Toledo.

The prisoner, who was left “to free asto .
his limbs, though unarmed, a near the old . is;
chief, buried in gloomy thoughts. At last 
roused himself from his sullen discontent to in-

ire: ‘.

“ How came you to know I was not Ali Mou-
dara, and how came the order for my arrest.” " ,

Meer Haroun smll' ed slightly. _ , A

“ The captive asks, an the jailer keeps his ’
own , whether to answer or not. The
wise man says: ‘Trust not in woman, and lean , , V
notonareed. Bothwill failtheeinthehonr -‘
of need.’ ” .

“ You mean I was betrayed by a woman!" i
asked Gonzalo nickly. ' ' ,

Again the ol Moor smiled in his ambiguous '~
and revoking manner.

“ he potter’s son looked on the Caliph'a
daughter and loved her, but the princess 0r—
dered that he be ven the  for kissing a .
slave in the dar . The W188 man saith: , ‘ '
nggmen are like sheep; they need a shop g

e 3 ‘

And this was. all the satisfaction Gonzalo ~ i
could get from him. . ' ‘4

.__L_ \
CHAPTER XII. " :
rm: STAB or coabova. » '
Tim level rays of the setting sun reflected in
scarlet and gold from the clouds that gathered
round his couch, shone on the domes and -
minarets of the fair city of Cordova. the home
of the Spanish Caliphs. Embowered in gardens
of roses and jasmine, where the fountains ,
sparkled merrily among the orange and lemon
groves, while a white girdle of cottonfields sur~'
rounded the whole city and suburbs, a fairer -' f
home for mortal man was never devised. . so g;
In the midstof the city towered “Al Jamath’l’ . '
the world renowned Mosque of Cordova: wi ,‘ 
its thousand and ninety-three marble columns; : .
its nineteen rand doorWaysand  point— ‘5
ing toward ecca; its forty-six hun m

 

W’I-Wflbs

«awe-2m .

12‘

 

 

 

 

 

lam s; its walls of marble, incrusted with
Ara ic inscriptions, flashing in crystal letters.

Even today, ruined and reduced to five aisles,
its lamps stolen by Christian raiders, the Mosque
is a. monument of beauty. in those times it
» was the wonder of the world.

All around Cordova the country was like one
vast garden, for the Moors were the best agri-
culturists of the globe. The waters of the
Giiazialquivir, which to day roll through a. dry
plsiin were then arrested, conducted into a
' in uze of canals and tanks, and made to irrigate
the fertile Soil for miles around. Under the
Moslem rule, Spain was a. garden; while the
Caristians have turned much of that garden
into a desert in our day.

But more beautiful than even Cordova,
with its white walls half buried in roses and
vines, was the palace of Medina-abZohra, the
"City of the Flower,” where the luxurious
Ciiliph Hasc'nem passed his idle days away
among the blossoms and ribs. All that
Arabian fancy and Greek art could muster of
‘ beau; and riches were lavished on the “ City
n'.’ to FloWer.” A veritable cluster of palaces
it was; a. labyrinth of marble-paved courts.
variegated With fliwer—beds and fountains;

ivilious of colored marbles and costly green

alachite: columns and statues, regardless of
the Prophet’s command against images.
', Tue renowned AI Hambra, which we see to-
. «lay, with all its beauties, was as nothing com—
parei to ihe wonders of Al Zohra; while the
i-ilac-s of Bigdad in the pnlniiest days of
liiroun Al Rascliid would have appeared mean
and sordid beside its gardens and courts.

in the very Center of all this beauty, in the
, Harem Court, with its leaping fountain of

quicksilver, lay the princess Zoraya, reclining

on her cushions of go d brocade, and listening to
the eager matter of a small negro slave with an
impish face, full of fun and malice, who was
pouring out to his mistress a budget of news.
. Zoraya, surrounded by luxury and beauty,
looked listless and unhappy. Before her was
the famous " Swan Fountain ” a costly toy un~
, equaled in the world beforv or since, but the
- Caliph’s daughter looked discontentedly at it
and curled her lip as if in scorn.
_ Yet it was a marvel in itself. A large swan
,‘ of pure gold, set with jeWels, held in its beak a

‘ éhell of gol I set with a single pearl, the largest

in the world a present to the Caliph from the

K ‘E a , Emperor of Constantinople.

From the edges of this shell spouted glittering
streams of quicksilver, tallin with a metallic
tinkle into the jasper basin low, each jet 8.
_ miniature mirror, in which every feature _of the

yi beauty round them was reflected.

‘ 1 .Such a fountain was unique in the history of
luxury, but to Z iraya it Was an old story and
she was weary of it. The boy’s chatter hardly
i terested her, thouuh she had sent him to Cor-

ova herself to colfect the news for her. The
ihoneyed monotony of the harem was a weari-

,ness to her, and s e was idly wishing that she
had been born a man, when the boy suddenly

I l ‘ attracted her notice by saying:

“Yes, my princess; and they say that Al
Mansour will have the Christian beheaded to-
,‘morrow, for darin to‘ take the name of his
‘ algooptgd son Ali oudara, the Lion of the

'k

“ What art thou talking of, Zadoki” pettishly
. asked Zoraya. “ What Christian l”

“ i don’t know, my lady; but the people ea
in the streets that Meer Haroun Abd Alla
brought in a prisoner to-day, a Christian knight,
with his squire, who had come to Toledo and
passed them-elves off for Sheer Ali Moudara

 h 'i tend his slave, Babs. Moustafa.”

n, “Well, and did they bring no one else in?"
asked the princess, concealing her agitation at
the news.

 " No one else, my lady.”

 , “ Was there n a Christian woman, one Pan-
obita, with them ’ asked the lady, in an indif-

 ‘ _ ferent tone.

Z“No, my lady.”
“Very good, Zadok. Art sure that Al Man-
Iour hath these Christians in prison?"
“ Yes, my lady, for I asked the captain of Al

1, €24 .lfanaour’s guard, and he told me that they weie
" ' to be beheaded by sunset to-morrow.”

“That will do, Zadok. Tell Mensa I want to
see him."

stok salaamed low and left the court, when
the princess lost all the control over her features
which had enabled her to dissemble before the
cunnin and observant slave.

“He 3 to be slain, and I am the cause of_his
death,” she murmured, with a pale, frightened
face. “ What shall i do to save him I love?”

Quick and impetuous in all things the Morisco

rincess had rushed headlonrr into love as heed-
ly as she had into a hundred other acre 5;
and now, for the first time in her life, found or-
eel! confronted by an obstacle that even her
' powers, as the Caliph’s daughter, could not sur-
mount.
,_ _ Hitherto she had been accustomed to find
"tevorything bend to her will, but she knew the
Vilier Al Manson: was not made of the same
etc! on the rest of the Moors.
Never wanting in outward res t to the
no ruler of the realm, her fat er, the in-

 

 

 

dolent Caliph Haschem, the stern Vizier was in
reality absolute ruler of all in Spain.

His fame. established on his numerous victo-
rics, made him an object of wonder, fear and
almost adoration to the people. He was wise
and temperate, plain in dress and habits, lived
in a modest house, while his nominal master
lolled on brocadcd cushions in a marble palace;
but none the less Haschein feared Al Mansour,
“The Invincible,” and would no more have
dared to oppose his connsels than to have
mounted a war-hers" and charged with his sol-
diers beside the mighty Vizier.

Zoraya knew this, and knew that she could
not count on her father’s aid to save her loVer,
if Al Mausour decreed his death. If anything
weie to do, she must do it herself, and work on
the Vizicr’s pity, for his justice was fearless of
offending any ioor in Spain.

“'hile she was thinking what to do, Mouse,
the chief of' the Harem Guards, entered the
court and salaamed profoundly before his young
mistress; for Zoraya ossessed more influence
in the palace than all er father’s favorites put
together cl uld muater, and Mouse knew it.

“ Mouse,” began the little beauty in her im-
periou’s, fashion, “I must go to Cord0va t0-
ni rlit.

louse bowed low, but hesitated.

“ It will be difficult, rincess. The palace will
be shut up in an hour rom now—”

“ I do not want to..go to the palace,” she re-
torted. “This palace is better than the old
Castle at Cordovn. I want to leave here
Secretly, with only thee to guard me from
harm.”

Mensa smiled dubioust.

" The ladies would catch wind of it, unless we
went in the darl:—"

“ We will go in the dark.”

“And your highness must adopt some dis-V

guise—”

" i will go as a boy.”

“ Your higliness “ill be a. very little boy."

Zoraya stamped 'lrcr foot.

“ No remarks. You shall be a merchant of
figs. I am your son; a child. Will you doit,
or not .4”

As she spoke she took ofl? all the rings from
both hands and held them out. Mousa shut his
eyes, turned his back, but put both hands open
behind him.

There was a little clinking sound, and Mouse.
remarked, as if going on with a conversation:

“As your highness says, in one hour, at the
Western Gate, she will be there.”

Zoraya smiled graciously on him.

"Thou art right. She will be there.
Zadok to my chamber w ith the dress.”

The sun had alrraily sunk behind the clouds
in the West, and the short Spanish twilight was
fast changing to night. The moon was several
days past the fuIl. and Zoraya know that the
night would be a dark one as she hurried to her
chamber.

On her way there she passed more than one
of the. harem slaves and favorites, to whom she
announced that she did not wish to be disturbed
that evening, as she was ill. -

Gaining er chamber, she locked the door,
and w as soon salu'ed by Zadok’s gentle tap.

This little imp of mischief could be discreet
as she knew; and his face was discharged of all
expression as he threw into the room a little
lundle of clothes without saying a word, then
turned and ran away.

Zor. ya, like most women of the harem, was
used to intrigue, and under the lax rule of the
indolent Ciilipli, had had evcry opportunity
therct‘:,lr. This was not the first time she had
been to Cordova in dirr'uise in the night; and
Mensa, the strong an savage-looking negro,
had always been near her to protect her from
any evil consequences of her escapades. Her
expedition after the Maiden Tribute had been
the that occasion where she had a pted the
guardianship 'of another, and that ad been
made under the sanction of Al Mansour bim-

Send

l .

“ And he must have heard from some spy 0:
Toledo, how We came there with no guards,”
thought Zoraya as she rigiidly disguisd her-
self; “and he has divine the rest. Oh, the
sharp eyes of Al Mansourl But we will see if
a woman cannot outwit him at last.

An hour later, when dark night brooded over
the palace of Al Zohra, when the mists were
curling up from the plains around Cordova, two
peo e rode slowly out of the palaco—gate and
too their way to the city. ‘

The gaunt bi ~boned frame of Mousa was
draped in long ( ark robes, with a voluminous
white turban above, and his razor-like scimitar
was concealed under a brawn burnoose. He
rode on a black mule and was followed by a lit-
tle boy in the ordinar habit of a slave, who
bestrode the tiniest of gy tian donkeys.

This little ho was as lack as ebony, with
the usual b et- ead and friuled W001 Of the
ne , and 0 one would have 8118 ctcd that
under that disguise was hidden the renowned

tar of Cordon, the Caliph’s daughter, for
whose hand the King of Morocco had pleaded in
vain. So much can be done when wigs and
dye m skillfully used.

Theoler intriguer was delighted with his

v
I
i

‘ \

_. f

 

pupil. Born a slave and set over other slaves,
trained to nothing but watching a number of
caged women, to see that no male creature came
near them, old Mensa had but one weakness, of
which the Harem took advantage. He was a
miscr, as a crow is a miser, heaping up bright
gold and jeWels iii a secret hiding place, from
an innate love of hoarding. Zoraya had )layed
on this weakness again and again, till ousii
had begun to consider her a sort of gold mine,
only to be worked with eril, but well worth it.

“ What is my name, ousa?” asked the dis-
guised girl, pertly, as she rode up beside him in
the dark; “and who art thou?”

Old Mousa cackled gleefully.

“I am Mensa, the chief of the guards, and.
thou art Zadok, a mischievous little wretcli that
is a pest to the whole palace; ‘thcri-lore the
Princess Zoraya hath commanded me to sell
thee in Cordova for what 1 Can get. and I am
going to offer thee to Al Mansour himself.”

Zoraya clapped her hands and laughed aloud
at the plan.

“ Good! good! And I will be so pert and
play so many tricks that he’ll send me to prison
at once, and I shall see him.”

Mousa sobered down at once.

“See whom? Not a maul
princess."

“Everything is ossible to ten purses, Mouse,
and I am only :idok,” was the quick reply.
“ I must get access to the prison, where lies a
Christian knight who is to be slain to—morrow,

Impossible, my

and thou must get me in there.”
Mensa reflected.
" l‘en purses! A tlousand diners of gold?

Your highness cannot get them so readily. ’

“I can get ten, tWeiity, fifty, if I tell my
father! want some new rings, Mouse. Come,
thou wilt do it. ”

“It is true that I know the keeper of the
prison very well,” said Mousa, musingly, “ and
it is just possible that he might take the boy
Zadok for a trial to serve the prisoners.”

Zoraya whipped up her donkey to a smart
trot, saying in her saucy way:

“ Come along, old tortoise, I must be in the
rison before the water-bell sounds, or thou
osv-st thy purses.”

Mensa made no more objections, for a bargain
was always to him a bargain, and the strangely
assorted pair pressed on at a rapid pace, reach-
ing the great gates of Cordova in a short time.

Unlike those of Toledo, which city was near
the Christian border, these gates were not closed
at sunset, but were left open every night till
the sounding of the “ water-bell.”

This was the signal, given about three hours
after sunset, for the watchmen at the tanks on
the plain to open the sluices and let out the
water to iirigate the fields, a signal repeated
every half hour, as the ates are opened or
closed. The custom is fiept up to—day in
Granada.

Old Mousa rode past the guard-house at the

ate, where he was hailed by the oflicer on

uty:

“ Whither goest thou, and who art thou l”

Mensa turned his face to the other, and
screamed out in his shrill tones:

“ Mind thine own affairs. I am the Chief of
the Harem Guards, Mousa Abd-ul-Keiim, on
my way to the prison to see the keeper.”

“3V0 1, then, peace be with thee, and don’t
come back after the water-bell sounds, or I’ll
note on,” answered the Mom, shar 1y. for he
hate;5 Mouse. as belonging to a riva establish-
men .

f‘l‘ll come back when I lease, and bring my
friends with me,” replies Mensa, sneerinle-
“I'd have thee know that theCommander of
the Faithful does not ask leave to send his slaves
in and out of his own gates, Akil hen Zeb.”

The Moor addressed growled out a few crrses;
but Mousa rode away without heading him,
and soon came to the doors of the great gloomy
pile where the Vizier Al Mansour kept his
prisoners of state and war. '

As Mensa had said, he was an old friend of
the keeper of the prison, a negro like himself
once a slave, and put in his present place by A
Mansour because of his fierce fidelity. '

His name was Bou Sheer “ Son of the Lion,”
and he looked like a lion, with his broad bang-
ing jaw, his little_ red eyes, and shaggy menu
that surrounded his fierce visage.

But all his flerceness disappeared in grim
ficularity as soon as he saw his old crony

ousa, whom he pulled into the prison at one?
or mg:

x 1:; it thou, old war-horse? I have been
wanting to see thee all day."

Mousa went in with him followed by Zoraya,
who kept up her character of a little boy-slave
very Well; and Ben Sheer introduced them to
his own room, where he had been enjoying him.
self over a secret flank of wine.

“Oh, Mouss,”cried the. 'ailer, a. huge negro
of muscular frame “I Wis thou wert to stay
till the morrow. have two executions, old
wolf of the mountains, both Christians, and I
will show thee that I have not forgotten my
old trade. I’ll take each head of! It a stroke
and drop it in a basket, or be called a bungler.”

Zoraya, who was crouched in a. corner. 818"
fashion, shuddered as she heard him, for she

  

 

,-.,......_-—.... ... . ‘- - / ' 

 

A aw

 

 

 

vw» .- ,e «m 1. g i

i‘ v».

' v

 

realized who were the victims; but Mouse only
cackled, as might a connoisseur in art.

“That is nothing,” he said. "I have seen
the day when I have severed the head of a
standing man so cleanly that he remained there
with his neck cut through and not a drop of
blood fell for a minute or more.”

Bou Sheer grinned incredulously.

“ Bah! who will believe that?
the head ?"

“On his shoulders, and none could tell it' was
cut off till the man fell and the head rolled
away.”

Again Bou Sheer grinned.

“ Thou hast not forgotten how to lie, old fox
of Soudan. I’ll do my best to—morrow, but I
cannot promise to do like that. Who is this
boy thou hast with thee?”

“A little imp of Eblis whom the princess
wants me to sell to thee, Bou Sheer. He is
always playing tricks on the slaves in the
harem, but he is quick enough if you give him
the stick twice a day.”

Bou Sheer looked contemptuoust at the
black boy, for he was a keen bargainer.

“He is not big enough to be any good,” he
observed. “ He might carry round the food to
the risoners. but that’s all. What is be worth?”

Where was

\ “ will sell him for fifty dinars,” replied.

Mouse, always anxious to turn an honest
pennv; but Bon Sheer laughed in scorn.

J‘Fifty dogs’ tails! I’ll give thee ten and put
him to work at once.”

“As an old friend, I will not be covetous,”
observed Mousa, with his most insinuating grin.
“ You shall have him for twent live.”

“Nay, I would not be her on old Monsa,
who tau ht me li0w to cutheads off like poppies.
I’ll ive fteeu.”

“ i a twenty and Zadok is thine.”

“ Fi teen, by the Prophet’s head! Not another
picc of copper.”

“Twenty, or he goes back.”

“ Well then, take sixteen dinars.”

“ I will not sell him under nineteen.”

“ 1’“ give thee seventeen.”

“The boy’s thine. Give me the money.”

Bou Sheer dived into thebag at his girdle,
where he kept the money of the criminals he
beheadei—the perquisite of the executioner
from old times—and slowly counted out séven—
teen pieces of gold, dull and dingy battered

and clipped, but none the less lawlul money of

the realm.

Then the executioner called to the disguised
princess: ' ,

“ Come here, imp of Eblis! What’s thy
name?”

“Zadok,” answered the little one, jumping
actively up and beginning to dance and bum,
in the usual manner of negro children, void of
care and foresight.

“ Well, Zadok,” said Bou Sheer, in his harsh,
cracked voice, “ thou seest this whip!”

He held up a formidable whip of buffalo hide,
an inch thick at the butt, and grinned mali-
ciously.

“ Any of thy tricks on me, and thou catchest
a taste of this.”

“ I hear, my master,” answered the seeming
boy, submissively, and ceasing all his antics.

“ Good. I’ll set thee to work at once. ,Take
that basket and jug of water to the Christian

risoncrs at the end of the corridor. Put them
Ln through the wicket, and then come back

ere ’

“ Yes, my niaster.”‘ answered Zadok, in a
trembling voice, as if overcome with terror, and
Ben Sheer smiled grimly as the child left the
room with the articles indicated.

“ I allow no tricks in my place,” he observed
to Mousa. “ In a month I will have him trained
and sell him back to the princess for a hundred
diners. Now let us be merry, old jackal, for
I’ve not seen thee for a century. it Seems.”

, As he spoke he drew out the big flask of fiery
sherry, and Mousa’s eyes rlistened 'With eager~
ness as he reached out his and and grasped the
welcome vessel. The two worthies were old
topers, despite the Koran, and everything was
propitious for a deep carouse.

In the mean time Zoraya stole along the dark
corridor to where a light gleamed through the
wicket of a door.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
AL HARBOUR.

THE 3" eat Vizier had closed the day’s public
business and was about to retire to his own
house. when one of the guards informed him
that Ben Sheer“ the executioner, was waiting
without to see him. .

Al Mansonr nodded his head.

“ Let him enter. He comes to tell us of the
death of the two spies.”

 

l
I
l
l
l
.
i
|

Ben Sheer entered the room, rostratin him-
self face down on the floor an waiting or the
command to rise. Something in the man’s ap-
pearance seemed to displease the Vizier, for he
frowned.

“Where are the heads. Bou Sheer?” he de—
mended. sternly. “Did I not bid thee bring
them? Rise and answer.”

The executioner rose as he was hidden and
remained standing before the Vizier in an atti—
tude of dejection, trembling in every fiber of
his huge body, till ,Al Mansour again asked:

“ Where are the heads of the spies?”

Then Bon Sheer bowed his Own head before
his chief, and answered in a husky whisper:

“Let my lord kill me. The men have escaped
by witchcraft.”

In a moment the Vizier, a slender, wiry man,
who looked like a dwarf beside the negro giant,
had sprung from the divan on which he sat,
and clutched the other’s shoulder, hissing out:

“ Dog, thou darest not say it l” ‘

The great negro sunk on his knees beneath
the clutch of that slender brown band, as if
struck by lightning.

“ Mercy, my lord, mercy!
all he could gasp.

For a moment a fearful change passed over
A] Mansour’s fine face, rendering it rfectly

It is true,” was

satanic in its fury. The V-izier starter back to

the divan. flashed out the scimitar that had
been lying sheathed beside him, and ran at
Bou Sheer, uttering a snarl like a wild beast.

The executioner shuddered all through his
brnwny muscles, but bent forward his head
submissively, as if offering it to the blow, and
Al Mansour paused, glaring and panting, as if
he were about to strike.

In another moment the great Vizier had re—
covered his self command enough to lower his
arm, but it was in a voice trembling with pas-
sion that he said:

“ Dog of Africa, tell me how this came about.
Mind thou liest not.”

Bou Sheer looked timidly ug. His black face
had turned gray with fear, ut be obeyed in
the dull. submissive way of one born a slave.

The Vizier still stood before him, sword in
hand, but he had rested the point on the floor,
and his face was composed into its usual stern
fravity. Al Mansour was too good a judge of

uman nature to drive the wits out of a man
from whom he wished to draw the truth.

Bou Sheer, without waiting to be further
questioned, huskin told his tale.

“ Mousa, the chief eunuch of the harem
guards. came to see me last night and sold me
a slave called Zadok, by order of the Princess
Zoraya.”

Al Mansour lifted his eyebrows slightly.

“And this slave let them go. I: that it!"

“ Yes, my lord.”

“ And where is he!”

“ Gone with them. my lord.” '

Al Mansour turned away his head as if inus~

. ing, and a thoughtful look came over his face.

Returning to the divan, he slowly sheathed the
scimitar, and then asked in an absent sort of
way:

“Where is Monsa ?”

“ Gone back to Al Zohra, my lord."

Al Mansour mused again; all the anger gone
out of his face.

“ When did you find it out?” he asked.

“Just now, my lord, when I want to their
cells to kill them. . I missed the boy first.”

“ What boy i”

“ The slave Zadok, that Mousa sold me, my
lord, for thirty dinars.”

“Oh, he was a boy, then?” ,

“ A mere child my lord. I thought he would
do to carry food to the priSouers, and I sent
him to do it, as soon as I had paid for him.”

“ Lust nightl”

“ Yes, my lord.”

“ And how comes it you only found out the
escapenthis morning? What were you doing all
ni itl

on Sheer hung his head lower than ever as
he whispered: .

“ I was asleep my lord.”

The Vizier looked at him keenly.

“ Drunk, you mean. Where was Mouse?”

“ With me, my lord. He slept first.”

A faint sneer curled the Vizier’s gray mus-

tache. .

“ A pretty pair! And in the morning where
was Mouse?” ‘

“Gone, my lord.”

Again Al Mansour fell into a fit of deep
thought, from which he roused himself to,in-

uire: -
q “When did you wake up? Tell me the story
as straight as you can.”
“ 1 woke when the second call for pra er was
being chanted, and it was some time foreI

The Vizier was an old man with a keen Arab 1 was clear in my head. I called for Zadok and

face and long gray beard.
Richelieu, a few centuries later. he was a man
of pitiless will, who had brought order out of
chaos, and never slackened the reins while there
was any restiveness in his team. Like Riche~
lieu he could be kind and even genomes on oc-
casion, but only when his toes were at

mercy. .
He looked keenly at the gigantic negro as no observation till Bou Sheer.

 

3 men

Like the great 3 he did not answer. I looked for him and he

had gone. I supposed he was in the street, So I
took my whip to hunt for him. I could not
find him in the street, though I searched till
the third call for prayer. Then I became
frightenednand went home, where I found the
one.

nsour listened attentive]

Al , but made
finished.

 

Then he clapped his hands to summon his guards
and spoke to the officer in charge with his usual
rapid decision. '

“ A Christian knight and squire, with a black
slave boy named Zadok, have esca ed from the
prison. Send out the alarm on a] the roads to
Castile, and have them brought to me. The
man pretends to be Ali Moudara, they tell me
though I have not seen him. Send Abou N abel‘
here.’

The officer retired and Al Mansour remained
in thought, not noticing the kneeling execu-
tioner by look or word, till a wizened old black

entered the room and bowed himself before the '

minister. This was Abon Nabel, chief of A1
Mansonr’s harem.

The Vizier spoke to him also in the abrupt,'im-
perious tones of a men used to command. .

“ Go to Medina Al Zohra at once, and see if
there is a ho '~slave called Zadok there, or if he
has bzcn sold. See the Princess Zoraya, and
ask her if she authorized his sale. Bring back
the news quickly to my house.” ‘

w

1
.u
x..-

Abou Nabcl prostrated himself a second time ' I

and left the room, when Al Mansour addressed
the trembling executioner harshly.

“ Thou art a fool and tie son of a fool.
hack to the prison and wait my orders. Thank
the stars under which thou wast born that Al
Mansour is thy master.

out of the room, and Al Mansour smiled grimly.
after him as he muttered: '

“ It was my fault as much as his. In all this
I see ,a hand I know, or I am a fool as well as
thou.

The Vizier did not seem to be very much dis- l.  

turbed in mind as he left the audience-room, a

little while after, and walked through the"

so.“

streets to his modest house, within a stone’s

throw of the palace. 1

Al Mansour was too fond of the real sub-
stance of power to care for its outward show i
and indeed rather affected an ostentation 0
simplicity in all his dealings with the world,
rarely using a horse. or litter save on campaigns,“

\

and having no guards save at the palace, when

be transacted public business.

Go.”  '
I’Vithout a word Bou Slicer went shambling4

  

But his house, though modest outside. was», 

"ample and luxurious Within, and the Vizier i..-

laeked no comfort that his simple tastes re. V

qiiircd.

He unlocked the low mean—looking door,
opening in a blank wall, t at admitted hrm int)
the court of his own house, and found himself in‘
the midst of Oriental luxury at once; sur-‘
rounded by obsequious slaves ready to wait on 1

him, who conducted him to the harem, where. j

he was wont to repose after the fatigues 0f the
day.

'>

A1 Mansour, unlike most Moors, was the hus-‘ :-
band of one wife, the partner of his youth, once _

a Christian captive, now known as Sitt Zeinab,
or Lady Zeiiiah.

She was a fine, dignified woman of middle
age, with a stiong sensible face, and was A1

 

4

Mansoui’s chosen confidante in many an emer— ,L.‘

gency requiring wise counsels.

The great Vizier looked thoughtful as 

seated himself on the divan by his wife, and the
lady gave a secret signal to her slaves, which
emptied the room of all listeners in a trice.
Then she said:
“lVlmt ails my lord?
North threatening war again ?”

“ The men of the North are quiet since I har- 

smile. “ It is not that, Zeinab.”
“ Then what is it, my lord?”
“ A new frolic of the Shooting Star.”

ried Compostella,” was the answer with a 

Zeinab laughed. for it was their custom to}:

call Zoraya (1
count of her erratic ways. ,
“ Why, what has the wild princess done now? n
Has she shown her face nnvailed at noondav to
all the people, or spent a hundred purses to buy
a new monkey?” ' '
The Vizier smiled slightly and then looked,
grave again. ‘
“ Neither, Zeinah, but I think she has been
meddling with state affairs.” - -
“Indeed, my lord? . Is the Commander of the
Faithful awake at last, and has she incited him
to take the head of the state once more?” ’

AlMansour made a sort of grimace, exprss-K-

sive of supreme contempt, as he answered: ‘

“ A1 Haschem is all I could wish. I Will but!
take a bumpy to Africa and leave him to him-.
self, if 6 ever wax restive. Before I reach the

coast he will send for me to come back. No, it"
is not that." ' . '
“ Then what is it, my lord?” '

“ Thou knowest the boy Ali Moudara that '79- .j‘

adopted '6” r
,“ AY. my lord,” and Zeinab’s face lighted up
With affectionate remembrance. ‘
f‘ Well. one has come into these parts who B‘
said to resemble him strongly
gosed” on our people, calling himself Ali Man-
are.
“ But our boy is in Africa. ” interposed Zeinab,
eagerly. “ The people all knew it too well toho
decieved.”

r is a Christian. and
Moustafa to follow him.

seems that this im
he has enticed

“Nevertheless, they have been deceived. It:

_ .I

he Star) “ Shooting Star,” on ao- 

 

‘-

Are the men of the , I

and who has im- ’ ,1

 

v
c

 

 

r l

_. (Exalted the kiaschcfs to take him and bring him
 ’ ere.

, l

, p r , Fatiha, I ordered his head and that of his squire

I “And what said the Shooting Star to that?"

' tothe prison with old Mousa, and the

'1 .whom I sent to the palace for news.”

' V: prostrated himself before his master; after
' V which he made his report in a few words.

 many millions of Moslems, saw in a moment
that the boy was bracing himself 11

' "name of a koorbatoh
‘ ' questioned him.

,‘te Abou Nahel, who at once seized the boy and

 out:

.r . “I’ll tell all I know, my lord. I will indeed.
,v More

1 l ‘ Al

4‘ I V the Vizier, who said in his stern, impassive

awn :
' ‘yTell all thou knowost
:  comes down for the first lie.’

, .t

_ V since.

‘N l.

i told all he knew, which was but little. Mouse

“Babe Moustafa! Why, he was in Cordova
only three days ago.”

“ It seems, owever, that he hath fled thence,
for he is nowhere to be found, and this stranger
bath a man with him who is called Babe
Moustafa, and answers to the same descrip-
tion.

“ But what has all this to do with the Shoot-
ing Star?”

“Simpl that this stranger came to Toledo
with the fialden Tribute, and Soudani, the head
slave, tells a. story which shows that she got up
the trick herself."

“ I warvwd you it was not prudent to let that
madcap girl go to Castile without a rudent
governor,” observed Zeinab, triumphant y; but
the Vizier only laughed.

“ I know thou didst, but I had my reasons.‘ I
would not be sorry to have some Christian
prince or noble of high degree see Zoraya and
[go mad for love, as they say those Christians
are wont to do. But these things never come
as we wish them. This fellow, it seems, is some
needy knight of Castile, too poor to give his
squire a horse—so Soudani says-and yet bears
this strange likeness to Ali Moudara.”

“.And you think Zoraya has fallen in love
with him?” I

“I’m sure, Zoinab. Soudani is an excellent
spy, and reports well. She loved him enough
to be jealous and send him off in a lover’s
quarrel.”

“Send him off? Then he is gone.”

“Not far. Lovers never do. He was hover-
ing round Toledo when I heard of it, and sig-

I feared it might be our Ali himself in
some mad freak secretly come back, but as
soon as they told me he could not recite the

to be taken off."

“Nothing. But she has done something.
She sent a little impish slave-boy, called Zadok,
made
the executioner drunk and released t e pris-
oners."

Zeinab uttered an exclamation of amaze-

meat.

,“ What! Did she dare?"

Al Mansour smiled.

“ She is very daring. I shall soon know more
about it, however, for here comes Abou Nabel,

The old negro here entered the room and

“.The boy Zadok is in the room without my
lord. The Princess Zoraya and Mouse ave
gone from the palace, no one knows whither.”

EVen the trained composure of the Vizier
gave way in a violent start at the news, and

on he said sharply:

“ Send the boyin quickly.”

In a few moments Zadok, his comical black
face looking as stupid asthet of an owl, his
eyes rolling all sorts of ways, stood before the
mi hty A1 Mansour.

he keen-witted Vizier, who ruled ovor so

to lie
out of some scrape, and he made a sign Abou
The old negro bowed acquiemenCo and

lied from his girdle a. long whip of buflalo
do, still familiar in Oriental justice under the

_«Al Mansour beckoned Zadok forward, and

“ Where didst thou sleep last night?"
‘ ‘,‘ In the galace my lor .”
“‘ When idst then leave the prison?”
“ I never was there, my lord.”
“ Where is the princess?”
“I do not know, my lord.”
“ Where is Mousaf’
i“ I do,uot know, my lord.”
Al Mansour smiled slightly and made a sign

begun to flog him unmercifully. Zadok was
a at, mpered, potted bov, who had never
‘sufleregabe ore; and, as the Vizier had foreseen,
instantly broke down under the torture, howling

i mercy!”
nsour made a sign, and the old negro
released Zadok and set him on his feet before

Quickly, and a. cut
Zadok snifiled and sobbed a moment, and then

had given him a slave’s dress, and told him to
take itto the rooms of the princess. He had
soon Mouse. leave the palace after dark, with a
little black slave that he believed to be the
princess disguised, and neither had come back

That was all he know, even after a second
ifl ing,twherefore Al Mansour sent him home
)1 s . '

Then the Vizier turned to his wife with a
grave face, sayin :

 

Thou seest it is a serious affair. The little

.- be] has compromised herself, whoevor this

  
 

.- ,V,4..
,Io.. o‘ A

I, ' The Phantom

Christian may be. She has fled with him and sorrow and trouble, while the Moors were

they have gone to Castile."

Ere his wife could answer a slave entered the
room and presented the V’izier a letter from
the chief of the kiaschefs, which read:

“ We hare take/z Ihem."

CHAPTER XIV.
THE PRISONERS.

WHEN A1 Mansour heard that the prisoners
were retaken, he was as much elated as he had
been depressed before.

“ Where is Yakouh Hamet?” he asked eagerly
of the slave who had brought the letter.

“ The captain waits below with the prisons
ers,” answered the slave.

“Send them 11 here at once.
thyself,” said the izier shar ly.

n a few moments more, akoub Hamet, cap
tain of the kiaschefs, came into the room, fol-

lowed by about a dozen men, who led in their ;
midst two prisoners heavily ironed, their faces 1

covered wi h black on s.

Al Mansour smiled umorously.

“ Why, captain, what makes thee so timid
today? he asked. “Dost thou fear these men
will get loose. and slay all thy guard?”

“ Noble Al Mansour, they are both desperate.
We took them all unawares, and even then they
slew five men are the were overpowered. The
tall one swears he is he Lion of the Rocks and
the short one curses the Prophet like a. mad
Christian. ” “

“ Let them loose now,” said the Vizier, com-
posedly. “ They will not hurt me. Take off
those caps. I would see if either of these men
is like Ali Moudara, or if it be a fable indeed.”

The captain hesitated.

“ I warn my lord they are dangerous.”

“Do as I bid thee, Yakoub Hamet.”

Then the officer obeyed in silence, slowly re—
moving the stifiing caps in the shape of extin-
guishers, from the hen s of the risoners, and
revealng to view the features oFa handsome
golden-haired youth and a. black-bearded man
in the prime of life.

Al Mansour started violently as soon as he
saw them, and ejaculated in a low voice to his
wife who still sat beside him:

“ ust Allah! it is his very phantom! Ever
line is the same; and this must be witchcraft.‘

As to the prisoners, no sooner were their eyes
at liberty than both stared about them in
amazement. The blackbrowed man looked all
round the beautifully decorated room as if he
were taking an inventor , but the youth never
took his eyes off the Vizier’s face.

“ Take off their irons, Yakoub,” said Al Man-
sour as quietly as before. “They will do no
harm to me.” ‘

The captain of the kiaschefs obeyed in silence,
and the prisoners were beckoned forward to
the front of the divan. Here they stood, the
youth in sullen silence, with folded arms, eying
the Vizier’s face with a. gaze as keen as his own.

“Who are ye and why come ye hither?” asked
Al Mausour, steruly. , i

The young man made no answer, but the el-
der at once replied with a counter question:

“ Does your worship mean me?”

“ I know thee well enouah. Thou art Babe
Moustafa, the son of the Christian doctor that
ran away from Cordova thirty years a 0. Thou
hast followed thy father now, by running away
to new masters. Is’t not so, Babu. Moustafaf’

The blaclcbearded man grinned and bowed as
he answered:

“ Far be it from me to contradict your wor-
ship. I am anything your worship leases."

l Mansour gave a satisfied sort 0 “ humph !"
and turned to tho oung man, asking him:

“ And what is t name?"

,The outh looke him full in the face without
shrink ng:

“You know Well enough. I am not one to
deny it at any cost, even if I lose mgr lady
thereby. I am All Moudara, your adopte son. ’

For a moment the Vizier seemed to be puzzled.
He looked fixedly at'tho young man, then at
the old one, and finall turned to Blackbeard.

“ Who is this man, be Moustafa?"

Black-beard grinned again. He alwas grinned
when he spoke, it seemed.

“I cannot swear, your worship, for there is
so much witchcraft about that I doubt if I am
myself. But this I know. If I am myself, this
is my true master, Don Gonzalo Gonzales, son
of the Count of Lara—”

He was interrupted by a smothered cry
under the _vail of Zeinab, and the face of Al
Mansour himself changed to an expression of
eager attention.

“ Whom saidst thou?” asked the Vizier.

The black-bearded man stared at them as if
astonished. ‘

“Gonzalo Gonzales. Count of Lara, if your
worship has no objection.” I

A] Mansour looked earnestly at the VOW!"
whose roud gaze never flinchod. and then ob-
served in a low tone:

“ I had thought all the children of Lara were
dead. ” . -

Block-board shook his heed slowly.

“ Nay your worship. The Moors thought
they had illed them all, but they for t the
babe in the Castle of Lara. One was rn in

 

Zeinab, vail ,

,u

.n
t

n? j. T..—

raiding from Toledo to tho Pyrenees and many
a day did I watch over his worship there, when
he was in swaddling clothes.”

The Vizier turned and looked in his wife’s feoo
, with a strange glance, while the lady could be
i seen to tremble violently under her vail. There
i was a silence in the room for some minutes, no
; one venturing to interrupt the great Al Man-
; sour, who at last roused himself and spoke
i huskily, as if with an effort.

, “Let the kiaschefs and all retire. Be within
' call, but beware how ye listen. Leave the
i prisoners here."

i The captain of the guards was apparently
I disturbed in mind as he retired, but he made no
‘ actual opposition, and the room was soon (mpty
! of all but the Vizier, his wife and the prisoners.
1 Then Al Mansour beckoned to Black-beard,
I who had been regarding the proceedings with
an air of great wonder, and who readin up
approached.

“ How didst thou leave the prison last night?”
asked the Vizier suddenly.

Black—beard shook his head with a grin as he
retorted: -

“ Your worship must ask some one else. It
is not for me to )etray counsel. We Were out,
and here we are in again. A plague on all the
Prophets of Arabia! I’ll follow them no more.
I am Pepito Nunez, son of Nuno Salido, and 1
am here for denying my faith. I’ll do it no
more.”

“ Thou art the son of Nuno Salido, sayst
thou? Then who is thy mother, ood fellow ?”

“ Aldonza Lorenzo, my lord, an onest woman
of the Asturias.”

“Then thou art not Babs Moustafa?”

“ Not unless your worship insists on it. Babe
Moustafa, if my father 'had another son, is
either dead or a slavo to the Almogavars.”

“ How can that be? Tell me thy story in full,
good fellow, and fear nothing.”

The Vizier seemed to be intensely interested,
and Pepito—for it was he— ave him a short ac~
count of the adventures which had ended in his
capture near Toledo. All the while the other
prisoner stood with his arms folded, Wearing an
air of proud indifference, as if he were bored
with the whole performance.

When Pepito had finished, the Vizier smiled
and observed very dryly:

“This story is very well till you get to the
prison. But how did you get out, and how
came you here?”

P ito grinned. '

“ cannot break counsel, your worship. We
got out, no matter how, and traveled to the
house of a friend, whence my matser sent me to
the marketplace to buy a dress for one of our
party. As was coming back I met my master
alone in the road, and ere I could do more than
greet him and show him the dress, these rude

rsons set on us and we had a fight. So that
is how we came here.”

I nstantly the Vizier clapped his hands: 8
signal that brought in Yakoub Hamet.

“ Where did you take these men?"

“ Within a league of Medina Al Zohra, great
lord. The dark one was comin from the city
the li ht one on the north road rom Almaden.

“T e Almaden road skirts tho palace. HO
has been hidden there,” muttered tho Vizier to
himself. “Mad girll she will be ruined some
day with her risks and tricks.”

Aloud he said: .

“That will do. Go.”

As soon as the captain had retired Al Man-
sour addressed the prisoners in his gravest and
most impressive manner. ” .

“ Your livas are forfeit by the laws of war.
Ye have ventured to rofane the harem of the
Commander of the aithful. Nevertheless, Al
Mansour can afford to spare two Christian fools,
betrayed by the glance of a bright eye. Don
Gonzalo Gonzales, had not fortune once made
me cruel and unjust to thy family against my
will. this day should be thy last; but I pardon
thee for the sake of one, dear to me, and in
memory of thy father’s wrongs. Go back to
Castile, and never let me see thy face again till
thou hast aVongod th brethren by the blood of
Ru Velasquez and t e Witch Lambra. Seven
gal ant sons of thy father were slain by my
men through the magic deceptiona of that
witch; and he time has come to avenge then.
Away with thee in ver shame, then!”

Hero Pepito. with is usual blunt manner
broke in:

“ Begging my lord's pardon, his worship here
knows nothing of all this past history. It's the
other one, I told it to."

Al Mansour did not seem to be offended by
the honesty of the squire, for he even smiled as
he asked:

“ What other one, friend i"

“The other knight that I thought was fly -

master. and whom I left by the Wizard’s Ces-
tle," answered Pepito earnestly. “ This is the
real Don Gonzalo, and his father has not let hi-
know the truth.” '

“Then tell him all' for ’tis a sin and e aha-e
so fair 9. youth should be i onnt of his father‘s
mortal foe,” answered Al ansour sharp y. ’

“Go, both of ye. Take this ring for 1 sets
conduct: and remember that I will have ya

 

, . \
“ij ' m I .y,
. -  I;  t a .- ~-

Va . . ’ ‘_ Harp

     
  

   
  
 

:wr-fi- ‘ "4

,a:

F A... a... «la.

.  beheaded if ye are found in tho dominiens

. looking out over the landscape film 0’08
dhimed with tears.
to was thinmng over her brief

 

of the Caliph after four da e. If ye would ever
return, come with the h s of Ray Velasquez
and Lambrn the Witch, and come iii-eight
hither. Farewell, Den Gonzalo, and good luck
attend thee l” _

lle cla .d his hands again, and said to the
amazed akoub Brunet:

“ Take a guard and escort these gentlemen to
the frontier at once. They will return in a
mouth cr'less, with two heads, those of a man
and a woman. If they come without thOSe,
kill them. If they bring them, escort them to
mo. 1 have spoken.”

He waved his hand as a token that the audi—
ence was over; but the ounger prisoner ad-
vanced and bent his knee fore him.

“Is it re father’s will I should be Don Gon-
mlo Gonza es?" he asked in a strange tone.

“ I have spoken " was the only answer, as Al ,
‘ by his squire, riding rapidly toward the con-

Mansour averted  oy es from the other.

The prisoner rose.

“ Be it so," he said. “ I am a good Christian
knight, and my name is Gonzalo Gonzales.
Lead on.”

Prisoners and id filed from the room, and
no sooner were o gone than the Vizior‘s wife
throw aside her vn and eagerly; addressed her
husband. '

“ Al Mansour, there is witchcraft in this?”

The Vizier was not superstitious, so that be

u

 

only smiled. _

“ No witchcraft, wife, only the wrong child.” |

“But you told me that—” l

“ I told thee that the child was brought to me I;
by oe of our raiding es, as the new-born ‘
child of the Count 0 re, taken from beside ‘
its mother when they burned his castle, against
my orders. I had not tamed these wild kings
of Granada and Valencia in those days, and '
they did not obey me as they do new.” i

“ But how comes it that—l”

“That this youth is the Count’s son? I can—' '
not say. My men cannot have deceived me or ,i
been mistaken. They did brin me the Count’s
son, and yet it does not seem t at he had two .
sons."

“But he is so like?” said the lady in a low i
tone. -

“Nay for that matter, he may he a son of ‘
Lara no born in wedlock, good wife. See this {
squire. He says he is the son of Nuno Salido, ‘
and he is the image of Babe Moustafa, yet we 3
know that Cadijah was the morher of one, and
some Christian woman espoused Nuno after he
fled hence and became the mother of the '
other."

“ True, but we do not remember Baba Mous- ‘
tafa so well: and this youth spoke with the I
veioo of Ali; looked out of Ali’s eyes. He was
the very counterfeit presentment of our adopted ,
son, in lord. It must be some spell 'of the >
witch bra.”

Al Manseur smiled slightly.

“ Witchcraft for the dervishes, wife.
his youth is a brave one, but there is no witch- l
oraft here.”

“ But how cones it that the squire aegis there i
are two of them! Our Ali is-su'll in oroeoo, g
my lord.” ’ . !

Al Mansour looked keenly at his Wife.

“ Art sure of that? By my father’s heard, I
would not be surprised to hear he was in Spain. 5
Let it go. What is more to the purpose, our ‘
wild little princess cannot follow him now. '
Zeinah, that Christian was hidden in the harem
till he came out to meet his squire, and now we ,
shall see our Shooting Star come back to the ;
palnoo to-uight with old Mouse, as if she had f
never left it. lmust take order with her- for 1
though House. is very discreet, be will get both
into trouble some day. She runstoe near the
fire to esoa burning forever.”

The ,Vi er was much preoccupied all thatE
do , and the next morning early sent to the '

co to know whether the princess had re-
turned with Mouse. ' '

The answer that came back disturbed him I
greatly. .

Neither had been heard of since the night 
fore, and not a single word came from the ki-
aeohefn who were securing the country. The ,
Princess Zoraya, Star of Cerdova, daughter of 5
the great Celiph, had disap ed as utterly as L
if she had never existed, from the midst of a i
pe uleus country.
hen came a message from the Ca ' h, desir-
to see his prime m uister, and A1 ausour,
for the first time in life, began to feel un-

ae found the indolent monarch in a flurry of
nervous excitement. He had but just been in~
termed of his daughter's ht.
, “ You must find her, Al ," was m be

oould sa .
“ On 3y head be it.” answered Al Honour.

CBAITER XV.
mantra.
Tlll Led Finnoesca ‘0 1139383» ION
mmiliarly own as Panehi not at her

chamber window in the Um ino Nunaery,

 

ghpee of love and happiness, and wondering

-uuve at» Mummy“. ~ men-aunt

m “'-
 ...w._.......,.s... ., .. M. dawn-v 2.. Wm“ *
~ I: > . _ ‘ _ .o. l A "
_ , ,

what had become of the false knight on whom
she had thrown away her love. .

“He was doceivmg me all the while,” she
thought sadly to herself. “He loves Zoraya,
and only amused his leisure with me; and now
he has been gone five whole days, and I shall
never see him more. Why did he take me at
my word?”

Then Panchita began to weep, for she was
very yOUng and very much in love. The good
nuns had treated her with the greatest kindness

as soon as they found out her rank, and a mes-

sage had been dispatched to her father inform—
ing him where she was, but in the mean time
Panchita was all alone, and had little to do ex-
cept weep for her absent lover.

ow, as she looked at the landscape through
her falling tears, the gleam of sunlight on ar-
mor suddenly made its appearance in the valley,
and very soon she could see a knight, followed

vent. .
Poor Panchita’s heart began to jump, and she
started u , murmuring:

“ Oh,i it be he at last, bless him!”

She looked eagerly at the fast-approaching
figures, and then a sick feeling came over her,
for the nearer they came the more unlike her
knight was the advancing cavalier.

Her kni ht had ridden a bright bay charger;
this one trode a slender, delicate-looking
gray, with a bluish shade, like the color of a
wreath of smoke. The champion the had sent
away was accoutered in light Moorish mail,
with a. bright green sureoat; this cavalier was
locked in bright steel from crown to heel, and
his surcoat, as well as the trappings of his saddle,
were of a pale gray, like the color of his charger,
giving him a strange, phantom—er a pcarance.

His visor was down so thattshe con (1 not see
his face, but there was something in the gel-

| lautgraco with which he sat his steed and the

way in whioh he held his long lance that seemed
familiar to Panohita.

Whoever he might be, he came on straight to
ward the convent, and she be an to think:

“ It is he, erhaps, after n1 .“

She look at the uire riding in rear of the
lmight and could ma c nothing of him; for he
also was com letely equipped n steel and his
face was bid en. Like in master, he rode a
gray horse and was dressed in pole gray.

0n the came, followed by the he and
fears of anchita, and at last stop at the
gate of the convent, when the knight sounded
his bugle in a bold peal.

Then the girl clasped her hands in ecstasy and
murmured:

“ It is, it must be he, at last!"

She looked across the valley to the dark
towers of the Wizard’s Castle and saw that the
drawhridge had been lowered and that a little
train of horsemen was coming from the for-
tress; but the sight did not alarm her.

She had been several days in the convent,
and had seen d’good deal of the castle people at

l a distance, but in all that time they had never

been near the convent. She had heard from
the nuns that Don Ray Vel uez wasa noble
knight anda good patron of t e nunnery, and
had given herself no further concern in the
matter, save to wonder sometimes wherefore
Don Gonzalo and his squire had been so stran e-
lvyél moved at the name of ‘the lord of t e
izard’s Castle.

She threw open the lattice and leaned far
out, listening intently to catch what was said
at the gate, if she could; for the valley was
silentns the grave in the vicinity of the con-

vent.

She could hear voices, but could not distin-
guish words; and her vexation was fast in-
creasing when she happened to cast her eyes
over the landsce , and behold the train from
the castle re y nearing the convent gate,
the horses going at a gallop.

At the head of the train rode a man in the
black velvet robes of a noble of rank, and by
his side was a lady in scarlet and black, while
their followers were completely armed.

Just as she was wondering what could bring
these people to the convent, came a tap at her
door: and Sister Catherine, the sub-prior
entered the room. Sister Catherine was an e]
woman who had not yet survived a passion for
gcssi ; and she was full of news.

“ h, Dena Francesca,” she began; “ there is
a noble cavalier come from our father to take
you home, and he says but you know his
name.”

“ What is his name, sister?” asked Pancbita
tl‘Bllblln .

“ Don 5mm) Gonzales, son of—"

“ It is true, I know him and I will trust him.

sister,” interrupted the lady hmthlessly. “I
am ready to go at onoe,i old Martino: will
bring out my horse ”

Martinez was the single male servant of the
convent, an old man, nearly sgperannuafed,
who tended the convent rden. d ve tables
glaze castle, and made an:qu gene y use-

Iefere deter Catherine eould reply may
heard more voices at thopte, and the old nun

exclaimed. .
“Ifithenottheceetlo folks come to use us

. ti ~i 

 

   

at lnstl, I thought they would be here when
they heard we had a guest. No doubt they
have come to invite you to the castle.”

“ But I cannot go there, sister. Think what
a. place it must be when they call it the VVi'zard’s
Castle. I should fear to enter those gloomy
gates.”

“ It is true that the country people call it so,
my child; but it cannot be true, for Dona Lum-
bra is a good servant of the church, and has
given us a silver lamp for the shrine of St.

rsuia. They are very rich at the castle, and
would entertain you royally, instead of letting
you go ofl' all alone wit a single horse as you
came.”

“ Nevertheless, if Don Gonzalo be willing to
escort me, Ivmust go, in ' sister, tor I am weary-
ing to see my home in iron once more. Here
is some one come to hurry me.”

In fact, at that moment, Mother Agatha,

gibbess of the convent, came bustling in, cry-
ing:
“ Sister Catherin . why dost thou loifer here!
Here are Don Ruy elasquez and the Countess
Iambra at the gate, cravin audience of the
Princess Francesca, and thou eepest her chat-
tering like a magpie. Come down at once.”

The Mother Sage 'or was a stern, ill~tempemed
woman, used to aving her own way unquee-
tioned; and it is no wonder that she swept own.
all Panchita’s faint remonstrances like win
and carried her down to the convent parlor.
where she found herself confronted by three
peogle, two of whom she had never seen before,
wh e the third was the knight in the ghostl
zfirliggg, who altood at engide of the room vaiti

0 arms is o v r revealmg' the ace
of Gonzalo 

But he said nothing as she came into the
room nor did he offer to move forward, as"
Don lluy Velasquez and the Lady Lauibra row
from their seats and began to overwhelm Pan—
chita with all sorts of compliments and excuSes
for not having sooner come to invite to their
castle the distressed lady of whom they had-

only heard that ve day.
“But now,” cri Dona Lambra “We insist
—both my lord and. myself—that the Princes

Panchita abide in safety in our poor castle till
such time as her father’s train shall come to
take her home."

Panchita looked timidl at them and felt
an instinct of aversion t at she could hardl ‘
ex lain. The Count of Custel Negro (the till
of uy Velasquez) was a tall, handsome man, a
little past forty, with a dark, haughty face; and
the Countess Lambra was a woman of singular
beauty, still in the plenitude of her charms;

 

mun...

“ I W” -wq...
. y ‘ . .z _ ‘4 .‘ ‘ .
_ ~ ' . . , , . , ‘ i . I, i r .
> ; .. . \ , I u - x
K ‘ ' r ' . , I
4

but still Panchita felt a shudder running  ,,

through her as she answered hastily: .

“ I am very sad to disappoint the noble lady,
but my father has sent for me already by this
gentleman.”

The count, who had his back to the knight
in the corner of the room, turned his head in o
stifl‘, hau hty manner, as if to see who was
there, an sneered slightly, while his wife went
on volubly:

“ Nay, sweetest princess, it is not possible
that yoursfather can mean you to travel through

the Land of Castles alone like a damsel errant, ‘i‘: ’

beside a knight who cannot even aflord to hire
a litter to carr you properl .” ‘
spirit:

“ Madam, it is not for me to say that m -

ther’s memen'gfifsis unfit to escort my fat er’s ‘ - ~-
' Gonzalo ‘

daughter. gentleman is Don
Gonzales. son of the Count of Ian and—"
Had a thunderbolt fallen into the room as she

spoke, the effect on two of her hearers could I

hardly have been more marked.

The Countess Lembra uttered a faint shriek
and started up from her chair, staring wido-
eyed at the knight, while Buy Velasdue: wheelo

ed round with a suddenness ‘forcibly contrast, '
ing with his previous hauteur, and recoiled 
several paces laying his hand on his sword, and , ,

trembli vidlently, with a but] face.
Pancliliga g y

visitors amazedly' and then, mud] to her relief,
the knight step forward and spoke with an»
ease and courtesy much at variance with the
usual rude manners of the Gothic warriors:

“ Fairest damsel,” besaid, “ Gonzalo  4

claims the romise

givon to Ali Moudara, and in
ready to e the lady Panchita to the

let who will mterpose to prevent it. Is thalady

willing to trust herself to my guidance?"

Pancbita looked apprehensiver atthe count: 
ng togetherand‘ ‘ ’ "

and countess. who were w '
glancing at the knight with strange looks.

Then she went to Gonmlo and clung to,

arm, saying in a low voice:
“Anywhere away from them!

See them i”

The knighteyed them steadily for awhile, and
then observed:

“I see them, and shall know then. but “so
time is not yet.
Panebita, ore mischief cone of it all.”

lot here the Ahhem interposed an
advancing to the deer

Pane-hits. co cred deeply and replied with. l'

was so much amazed at the recep- '
tion of her news that she could only regard her ,

 

 

Save me. " i
from them! There is black magicpin theirlooknl '

Let u. gofrom hence,me 0

 

they wero' .
“Nay, sir knight; bethink you that thick"

 

 

butpoor treatment for the noble count who has
inv1ted the lady to his castle. In common cour-

ms __”

gut the- knight merely bowed and waved his
hand as he re lied:

“Holy mot. er, the count had not seen me,
then. e will let us 0.”

“ Ay, let them go, in God’s name!” half whis-

pered Ruy Velasquez. “ We do not insist,
Mother, we do not insist.”
4 The Mother Superior looked amazed, but she
made no more opposition; and the knight led
Panchita down to the outer court of the con-
vent, where they found the s uire, whose open
Visor reVealed the honest, sun urnt features of
Pepito, holding two horses, one of them being
the animal on which Panchita had come to the
COIlVenfi.

Outside the gate. dismounted from their horses
and scattered lazily about, were the vassals of
Ruy Velasquez; and they did not seem to pay

‘ l. ,much attention as the knight, followed by Pe—

’ ‘ 'pito and escorting Panchlta, rode out of the
gate and took the way up the valley.

Once out of earshot, the cavalier turned to
Panchita, and said in a low tone:

“ Sweet lady, I have deceived you. I come
'not from your father, but I am ready to take
{on to him, or at least to carry you to the train

hat is coming to meet you. I was Ali Moudara,
but 1 am Gonzalo Gonzales, who loves you and
, none but you. Will you trust me?”
Panchita trembled and began to weep.
“ Whom can I trust when you have deceived

' The me? How am I to know that you will take me

to m father? Oh, Don Gonzalo, why have
. on one this?”
“Because I love you and would not give

 vnnogher the privilege of guarding you from

danger. Because you are in danger in this
valley.”
“ From whom i”
.' “From yonder wicked knight and worse
'Iady. Pepito has told me things about them
that Would freeze your very blood. You saw
how they blanched at my name. Panchita, they
had reason, for they have foully wronged the
name of Lara.”
“,And if I trust you—i”
“I will take you safe to Oviedo, where your
= father lives, or I will yield you to an person
coming from him. Remember, lady, t at you
. are the captive of my sword and spear; that I
rescued you from the Moors as All Moudara,
and can do the same in Spain as Gonzalo

 . lGonzales.”

“ I will trust Gonzalo anywhere; so lead on.”

, replied Panchita cheerfully; and then they
urged their horses to a gallop, and SWept away
up the valley, passing under the we! s of the

w ' Wizard’s Castle and taking the road to Borges,

nnmolested by all.
\ The sun had declined from the zenith and the
afternoon shadows began to creep slowly over
. the valley, n hen they saw a cloud of dust ahead
. of them, and Pepito, the squire, called out to
his master: ,
“ Beware, master mine, yonder comes a com—
pahy of fellows that will not be denied by one

 

:m n. The are atroo of free lances oin to
- Mgorlandj p g g
,‘ CHAPTER XVI.

Tm: HAUNTED KNIGHT.

,RUY VELASQUEZ and the Countess Lambra

' did not emerge from the convent for Sf‘VHl‘al
hours after Panchita had left it under the guar-
dianship of her knight; and when they came
out the vassals noticed that they were unusually
silent and moroee. The count was no angel at
the best of times, but his wife, who prided her-
self on her powers of fascination, was generally
gracious to ‘all her retainers.

 This day she too proved cross and severe,
scolded every one about-her, and retired to her
.own chamber as seen as she reached the castle,

,‘ while the count called for wine and drank
L ’, dee ly, as if determined to drown his cares.

’ The evening drew on and it was time for
supper, and still neither the lord nor lad of the
” i castle made their appearance in the ha i, when
, the loud notes of a bugle at the castle ate

announced that some . one was demau 'ng

' admittance and hospitality in the fashion of the

i ~da .
 The warder looked out of the little window
above the portcullis, and beheld a kn! ht in
gay armor on a gray horse waiting at t e fur—
' or side of the moat, accompanied b a uire
and a little page as black as jet hath' in the
, “ Who art'thou, and what wouldst thou?” de-
manded the warder in stentorian tones, to which
the knight replied:
“ A cavalier escaped

5
5
D‘
g
c:-
"1
o

from the wer of the

Y;  Moors craves hospitality for himse f and his fol-

wers. We are on our way to Burgos.”

' ' “Wait till I see my master,” quoth the
. .1 warder, who left the window and presently re-
turned, say’ing: /

“ The no lo cavalier is welcome and my mas-

' tor will see thathe is Well cared or.” '

. . Then the drawbridge descended, the ullis

 rose, and the kni ht rode into the can 10 court,
. followed by the b ack page and squire.
, They were received w th gr

eat courtesy by

 

 

the white-headed seneschal who ushered them
to rooms in the \donlon, and then inquired:

“ What name she I I give to my noble master,
sir knight?”

The cavalier hesitated a moment, and finally
replied:

“Tell your lord that I am under a. vow to
spealq no name till I have performed a task
given to me, and that if he wishes tonddress me
he can call me ‘ The Haunted Knight.’ ”

The old man stared.

“ The Haunted Knight!
and blood, sir knight.”

" So I seem,” returned the other, with a mys-
terious smile, “ but I am haunted by a phantom
that hath taken my name and placa, and I must
destroy it ere I can resume my proper appella—

10“.

The senescbal stared harder than before, but
then muttered :

“ Be it so. Farewell, Sir Haunted.”

He bowed and left the room, while the knight
turned to the little black slave who had fol-
lowed him into the room, and said:

“Thou seest that in our lands, though we
have not the riches of which you boast in Cor-
dova, we have a courtesy that forbids us to
press a guest unduly for his name.”

- “ And why should you not give your name to
them?” asked the little slave, saucily. “ Me-
thinks this is a fair castle, and that we are in
no more danger from Al Mansour’s soldiers.
Why should we not declare who we are at once i”

“ Because I do not know the lord of this cas—
tle,” replied the knight, gravely. “He may be
a good cavalier, and all this precaution useless,
but he may be a bad man, for there are such in
all parts of the world.”

“ Except among the Christians," retorted the
little slave, in a tonepf some DIOK'kOI'y, to which
the knight answered nothing; for at that mo-
ment came_a tap on the door, and his 5 uire, a
tall, bulky person, still in armor, with his visor
down, entered the room, saying, in a curious
little squeaking voice to come from so large a
frame: ' '

“ It is time the princess—”

“ Silence!" angrily cried the little black slave.
“ Knowest thou not thy nephew Zadokl”

The big squire hesitated and stammered in his
words as he said: o

“ I crave pardon, but I am not used to these
Christian ways yet. It is time for the lady

But you are flesh

The little slave stam d his foot, ran at the
big squire and sin ped him viciously. .

“ i am Zadok, t ion old camel of the Atlas!”
cried the child, angrily. “ See that thou call
me noLhing else.” v

The big squire laughed in the hollow of his
helmet, as he retorted:

 

l

 

“Then I ougut to whip thee for impudcnce if .

thou art Zadok. Come, shall I do it?”

in a moment the little slave had ski pod
awa behind the knight, and was making Paces
at t 19 hi squire behind the protection of his
master, w llle the knight was smiling at the
little quarrel.

Then the squire raised his visor and discov-
ered the fat ace of an old negro, looking un-
usually grave as be ex tulated:

“Noble knight, we ave periled all for thee,
and I have lost my place and forfeited my life
to bring thee hither in safety. Thou canst not
surely have the heart to do us harm now. It is
time you were separated and that the boy came
with me, since boy it is to be. lam the on!

rson he is safe with, if ever we are to go bac

ome again.”

The knight seemed to be touched by the ap-
peal for he answered:

“I know it, good Mousa. But for thy ood
management we had been taken by the ins-
chefs a hundred times. But bethink thce that
I seek only to join with the lady in honorable
bonds of Christian marriage as soon as we reach
my father’s castle.”

OgiMousa gave a dry sort of grunt as he re—
tor ' ‘

“ An honorable marria it will be truly, be-
tween a landless oung night with no pos-
sessions but 8. etc on horse and arms, and the
“den hter of a Successor of the Prophet.”

“ that as it may,” said the knight, calmly;
“the lady has chosen me and I can do no less
than be faithful. What shouldst then know of
the holy sentiment of chivalry? Be silent if
abouhgapst do naught but sneer at a Christian

m . '

Little Zadok, whose identity the experienced
reader has long ago found out, clapped his
hands and cried out with nan laugh:

“Well done, knight! ell done, Mouse!
This is better sport a thousand times than
dreamin away one’s days in the harem at A!
Zohra. at fun we had on the road to Ali
Mundara’s castle, where we tricked them into
giving us the knight’s best horse and armor,
with an outfit for thee, Mouse! And the best
of all is that we have tricked the great Al
Mansour who fancied himself to bathe wisest
man in Spain. But now it is getting time for

us to think of our bodies, my Ali; for I am
most unlover-like in my line r. How do they
name the lord of this castle, onset"

‘“ I know not,” answered the old negro sulkily.

l
I
l

I

 

 

  

 

 

v I an:
“I wouldwe were out of the place,
left this knight to roam alone; for. I has nothing
but evil in this frolic.”

“ And dost thou know the name of the castle,
my Ali?” continued the page, turning to the
knight. ‘ -

“Not I. How should I? My father’s lands
are far from this. It w s the first place We
came to on the road, and I have asked hospital—
ity, as I should be ready to afford it to any
strange knight belated.’

Zadok laughed merrily.

“What people are these Christians fast be-
coming! They are already imitating the Moors
in their ideas of hospitality. But here comes
one to tell us supper is ready. I must go with
Mousa, while on sit at the lord’s table! What
a hard lot is t lat of a slave.”

With an affected sigh the disguised princess
followed her master and Mousa. down the long
corridors to the great hall behind the old senes-
chal who came to announce to them that sup-
per was ready.

They foun the hall fully lighted, the retain-
ers ranged in lines along the wa] s, waiting for
their lord, and as they entered, he count and
Lady Lambra came to meet them from the
doors opposite to those at which they entered.

The knight had not laid aside any of his armor
save the helmet, and his head was bare as be ad—
vanced to meet Don Ruy Vilaiquez. He had
long golden hair, a handsome young face with
a downy blonde mustache, and the fresh color
of his check was as much unlike that of n phan‘
tom as could be imagined; nevertheless his ep—
penrance produced a startling effect on both

1 count and countess.

The former stopped, the words of welcome
frozen on his lips, while thé lady turned deadly
pale and faltered out:

“Again! Again!”

The knight bowed quietly before .them, as if
to avoid noticing their manifest rturbation,
but still they continued to stare at im, till Ruy
Velasquez, 1n hollow tones demanded:

“In the name of God, art thou real or a
phantom indeed?”

The knight smiled slightly, for be interpreml
their confusion as superstitious fear, owing to
the seneschal’s report.

“I cannot say,” he answered. “I am tln
Haunted Knight, haunted by a double that is
foreVer pouring disgrace on me. Till I meet
and slay him, am none but Sir Haunted.” ‘

The count seemed slightly relieved by this
answer. r

“ Then thou art not he I saw at the convent
of St. Ursula this morning?” .

The Haunted Knight started in turn and
asked with savage eagerness:

“ Didst see the sorcerer? Didst see my double
lto day? Whither went be, my lord? Where is

10!"

Buy Velasquez looked at his wife he manner ‘

full of hidden meaning, ere he answered:

“Dost thou know him then!”

“ No, no, I tell thee, n z! I have never soon
him vet. But mortal or man, if ever I do, let.
him beware! lily lord, where saw you him, I

re f

“At the convent of St. Ursula, with the Lady
Panchita. whom he took away on the road to
Burgos—”

Ere he could finish, the knight had turned to
the door and was about to run back to his room
without further ceremony, when he suddenly
remembered his host and returned, saying:

“ My lord, I cannot eat under your roof this
night. I must awa at once; for unless I meet
this evil spirit that aunts me, I am undone for-
ever. I pray you to let my squire and this little
slave follow me in the morning, when they have
rested and eaten. For me, I have a vow which
cannot be broken.” -

The count bowed eourteously, his pale face
lighting up with a smile of great relief as he re-

lied-

p “I grieve to see thee depart, Sir Haunted:
but since thou art determined to go I may 11.3.,
stay thee for courtesy’s sake.”

‘ I thank thee, and. am gone," answered 1h
Haunted Knight hastily; and then he rushed up
to his own room, andwas heard in a trice clat-
tering down the corridors to the castle stables,
fastening his helmet_as he went. .

Mouse and the disguised princess, thus left
alone m the strange castle, drew closer to other
in some uneasiness, and Zora a whispered-

“We must awa too, ol bear. I
trust the looks of t is Count and lady.”

Mousa nodded silently, but made no reply.
for the count at that moment addressed him in
the haught and contemptuous style he used
with his in eriors: ’ ‘

“ Here, fellow; how comest thou, a black
Slave. to be following a Christian l"

“ The noble knight promised to make my
nephew and myself free if we would help him,

do not

- answered Mouse, humbly.
“Thy nephew? Is that black imp thy ‘

nephew?”
' Yes, my lord.” '
“ Is be for sale? My wife wants a little bower

b0 in
X Nay, my lord, I could not sell him without
the leave of the most noble knight, my master."

 
 
   

am 'hu‘d‘

 

 

one

 

idova alone.”

to find my knight.”

 The Phaeton; .mégts‘

 

 

“ And who is this most noble
master?”

“I cannot say, my lord. He was a prisoner
in Coriiova till we let him out of the prison and
fled with him to the north.”

“ Wno art thou, then 2!”

“1 am Mousa Abdel-Khaleef,* the fig mer-
chant of Cordova.”

“And how name ye the boy?”

“ Zadok, my lord.”

“What do you call your master!”

“ Master, my lord.”

“ Has he no name, then?”

“None that I know, my lord, thou h the say

knight, thy ’
l
l
I
l

he is very like Ali Moudara, Sheer a Gebe , the i
adopted son of the great Al Mansour.” ‘

Don Roy Velasquez listened eagerly to Mouse. i
as he said this. 1

“And this Ali Moudara, where is' he now, I
think you?” l

“ In Africa my lord. He was sent there to 5
the tents of the Berbers to learn the b- st points
of the art of war, and is not likely to return be-
fore next year.”

Then the count’s color faded away again as
he turned with a shudder to his wife and whis-
pcrcd:

“ lt ,inust be ’a phantom, after all. Let us
tc<t it. ’

Without further noticing Mousa or casting so ‘
much as a glance on the supposed slave boy,
Don Ruy iurned to the table and began his sup—
per, evidently in a terribly bad temper, for he i
frowned while he was eating, and drank a good :
deal more than he ate. !

Very soon he called up to him his squire and
whispered something in his ear.’ The'squire, a '
dark and villainous - looking fellow, nodded
silent acquiescence, and went to the lower end
of the bail, where he beckoned to a couple of
inen-at-arms, who rose from table and followed
him without speaking.

Monsa, who was sitting at the lower table }
among the humbler of the retainers, with the 1
surgioscd boy by his side. noticed this and turned
to ' iidok, remarking in Arabic:

“ They have gone off to kill your fine young
knight. princcsa There is a devil of murder in
the eye of the lord yonder, that looks out of all
his disguises. We shall have to go back to Cor-

“Instead of that, old camel, we will follow
after my knight, and warn him of his danger.
Thou hast a trick of cutting off heads which I
have heard thee boast. Now let us see whether
it Will serVe thee in need.” 

Mousa made no answer, but went on eating a I
most enormous supper, while the nervous little ‘
being beside him toyed with the food. fldgeted,
pinched the old negro, and at last whispered:

“If thou dost not rise, I will go by myself in
a moment more.” l

Tuen Mousa got up with an air of at re- '
gret, and answered with his mouth fullg:m

“Thou art a very glutton, stok, that will
not let thine old uncle eat in peace when he is l
starved; but come along and let us depart.”

No one affected to take any notice of them,
for they were looked on as mere slaves, and a
few minutes later they were at the castle stables
leading out their animals.

Thanks to the wit of Zoraya and the long ex—
perience oi Mousa, they had made good their
escape among athousand perils from the kias~
chefs of Al Mansour, assuming various disguises
and travelin by circuitous routes, till they
had reached t e borders of Gas ile.

Here, by a stroke'of audacity, which only the 'l
wild “Shooting Star " could have compassed,
they boldly entered one of Al Mansour’s castles
on the frontier, and announced themselves as
Ali Moudara, just‘ come back from Africa with
two slaves.

The ruse succeeded, thanks to the marvelous
resemblance between Zoraya’s knight and the
absent chief, Wherefore they had been supplied
with the armor and horses wherewith they had
approached the Wizard’s Castle, not knowing to
wnom it belonged.

Now Mousa and the seeming boy mounted and
rode over the drawbridge into the night, fol-
lowed by the warder’s surly benediction:

~“The Virgin protect e for a pair of {0018.
There are robbers abr , and ye may want to
come back when ‘tis too late.”

But Zoraya heaved a deep sigh of relief as
she rode away.

“ Let who will come, they will bebetter than
yonder castle’s lord. Let us ride fast, Mensa,

 

CHAPTER XVII.
ran rams LANCES.

A ooxranv of armed men, headed b three
fierce-looking chiefs in armor a litte bet-

 

‘ Abd-el Khaleef, “ servant of the Caliph." The pre-
fix “ Abd-el,“ “ servant of the,“ is still Verv common
in Arabic and Moorish names. “Abd-el- hman,"
" Abd-el'Akhar,“ “ Abd-el-Kerim," “ Abdel-Allah,"
“Abd-el-Kader,“ are common examples, meanin
mpeétlvely "WE-m 01'. the Merciful, the Powerfu ,
the Great of God, of the Wise One, etc. Mouse in-
dicates h real statiOn b his surname. “Khalaef ”

‘ words.

 

or Call b, means “The uccessor " (of the Prophet,
Indie-saw).

ter than the others could afford, was coming
down the road to Toledo from Burgos, when
one of the chiefs cried out:
“A prize! a prize! Yonder comrs one of
those fools of knight-errants with a lady.”
They were a villainous-looking company that

,were headed by the man who spoke these

Their armor was rusty and of various
patterns, and looked as if it had been picked
up in all sorts of places, as it had been. The

, three chiefs were large, powerful men, with
lcruel, determined faces, and seemed to owe
’ their superiority over their companions chiefly

to physical strength.

None of the three wore the golden spurs of
knighthood nor seemed imbued with any por-
tion of the courtesy of chivalry.

They looked, as they were, “ free lances,”
(alias robbers) at any man’s beck and call to
murder or plunder. A stain on file age they

disgraced, they were the excuse for the insti- I
tution of knight-errantry, to redress the wrongs

they daily did.

“ To the foul fiend with all knights errant,”
growled the second chief. “ lVe’ll kill the man
and take his lady."

“ Ay, ay,” was the approving chorus, as
these precious scoundrels rode forward to meet
the knight errant.

They could see him afar off, a knight all in
white or vary pale gray, on a horse of the same
color, and followed by a. squire accoutered in
the same grizziy hue. Beside the knight rode
a lady in a long white vail on a gray horse.

Immediately the free lances began to scatter
across the road as a signal to those coming that

,1 they intended to dispute the passage.

1t was Pancbita and her protectors whom
they saw, and it was Pepito whose warning cry
to his master prepared him for the peril to

‘ to come.

“ We must ride into the mountains to escape
these villains, master,” said the cautious squire.
“There are too many for us to fight, and the
lady must be saved from their clutches.”

The knight looked long and keenly at the ad-
vancing line, and then took his resolution
quickly. .

“They have slow, heavy horses, and we are
mounted on the best blood of Morocco. Do
thou remain in the rear with the lady, and 1
will cut my way through them. Then, when
they are fully engaged with me, do thou ride
for the mountains, skirt the edge of this valley,
and come into the road behind them. If I am
slain, ride hard for the city of Burgos.”

But here Panchita interposed with avoice
denoting extreme terror.

“ In God‘s name, my lord, do not this
foolish thing! What can I do without thee
now! They will slay thee.” .

The knight turned to her with a grave sweet
smile, as he asked:

“ Would the. Flower of all Ladies have her
knight turn his back on a rabble of robbers
like this? There are duties as well as pleasures
in chivalry, lady mine; and we have no time
to lose. Give me thy love to cheer me in the
fight, and I shall prevail, as thou wilt see. ”

“ Thou hast my true love, Don Gonzalo, but
I beseech thee be not rash,” was the sobbing
answer; and then the knight kissed her hand,
closed his visor, and set off like an arrow from
the bow to meet the advancing company of
free lances, now less than a mile off.

No sooner had be gone, than Pepito seized
Panchita’s bridle and started for the mountains
at a rapid pace, defying the pursuit of the free
laimes, who were mounted on all sorts of
wretched nags, ill-cared for and incapable of
much work against a good cavalry.

The separation of the three, however, had
the eflect that might have been foreseen. The
robbers, anxious for prey, divided themselves
at Once, part chasing the squire and lady, part
advancing to meet the single knight. Secure
in their numbers—for they were nearly fifty
men—they anticipated an easy victory, and
galloped madly on, scattered, according to the
speed of their horses, in irregular groups.

The sun was already low in the horizon and
shone in their faces, while the knight, coming
from the south-west, had it behind him, and
was quite untrammeled in choosing his oppo.
nent. His swift charger swept on like the
wind, and very soon he met the three leaders
of the robbers, stringing along, one after the
other, ahead of their men.

Like a flash he passed the first, a swerve of
his horse causing the robber’s lance to miss its
aim, while the. knight’s long weapon, which
bore a broad Moorish blade at the and, struck

 

 

' drove his

the ruflian on the side of the face—for he had
no visor—cut a-deep blinding gash in the cheek
under theeye and glanced off.

The next man, seeing the defeat of his leader,
swerved to one side just in time to receive one
of those glancing lance-cuts on the back of his
neck, slight but deadly: for he fell from his
saddle in a moment, stone dead, the spinal
marrow severed.

The third robber rushed on to close, and
lance all to splinters on the
knight’s shield, but received the long, double-
edged blade in his own eye at the same mo-
ment, the keen weapon piercing his brain.

Thus, inside of a minute, three large, power-
ful men were entirely disccmfited by a single

antagonist, all on account of their want of.

visors; while the rest of the robbers, who

\..

were even less completely armed, scattered in '
dismay before the swift onset of this terrible\

knight, who rode so gracefully and seemed to
execute his feats with so much ease.

The white knight did not seek any enemies
As soon as the robbers cleared the road for him,
he pursued the way in which he had come, after

extricating the point of his spear from the head,
of the dead chief, and then swept round to the

right to meet Pepito and the lady, whom a

party of the robbers were trying to iniercept. , 
Before he could get there, however, tho  V:

squire had turned up into a mountain gully
after the lady, whose horse had apparently

taken fright, closely pursued by a party of the s ' ‘1
best mounted robbers, who followed at his

haunches.

These fellows were unprovided with armor
while their horses were the lightest in the band,
and they had folloWed the radius of the circle,
while Pepito and Panchita had been vainly
trying to outstrip them, though going three
times the distance. ‘.

Thus, when the knight turned off from the
road to succor his squire and lady, ihe robbers
had succeeded in their design of driving the
party from the direction of Burgos, and were
following, in a medley, up a steep mountain
gully, which led in some unknown direction.

No sooner did the free lances in the main

valley see the knight leave the road, which"

brought his back to them, than they raised 'a

shout of triumph and went racing after him. ‘

 

The very men who had shrunk from his threat- » *

ening advance were the first to pursue him as ‘ '

soon as his back was turned.

The knight gained the mouth of the gully
and looked up. Far ahead he, could see Pan-
chiie’s white figure. all alone, her horse labor-
ing, but going very fast, toward a cross ravine
that led into some upper valley, 'while Pepifo
had turned, about half—way down, and Was

closely engaged with at least a dozen robbers. - .3 ‘

His horse was down, but the squire, alone on
foot, with his old Aliiiogavar tactics, was

making his antagonists keep back with vicious 

“ jabs ” of his long spear. The knight raiseda
loud shout of encouragement to his squire and
galloped up the gully, where his arrival soon
put to flight the robbers, unprovided asthey
were with armor.

They turned and came tearing down- the
gully at full speed. keeping to the sides to w

cape-the lance of the knight; and he let them ’

all pass him save one, whom he smote from

his horse with a side blow of his lance, taking ,  T ‘

his horse and leading it up to Pepito.

“ By my faith, master mine, that was a
close touch of the razor to an honest man’s
beard,” observed the squire as be mounted the
robber’s horse. “Look down the pass, how
thick are the villains!”

In fact the robbers had collected in a crowd

at the bottom of the pass, Where they seemed I

disposed to resist any return to the road, and
their numbers made it amatter of wonder
how tn 0 men had ever escaped them. ,

But the knight only gave them a passing
glance, for he was very anxious about Pan.
chita, who had now disappeared in the upper
passes of the mountain.

“ Up, Pepito, and let us follow her,” ho‘

said. “ The sun is setting, and we shall have
much ado to find her. How earnest than to
leave her?"

“Faith, master mine, for the best of all /

reasons. Her horse outrun mine, for it carried
a hundred pounds less than mine, With me Bud
my armor. Besides, both lady and horse Were

roundly frightened or I much mistake, for she ‘

plied the whip all the way up the gully and I
warrant me her beast is black with sweat are
this."

His master cut short his discourse by lead-

 

   
 

 

' Pepitc dryl y.

 

 

ing the way up the mountain side, ,and the
shades of twilight began to close in on them as
they reached the cross ravine, up which they
had seen Panchita ride when she disappeared.

There was no sign of white horse or white-
veiled rider up the ravine, and the knight
paused irresolute, till Pepito obserVed:

“There are the hoof-tracks, your worship.
The lady has gone this way, and we must fol~
low if we hope to find her.”

The knight nodded and urged on his horse,
followed by the squire. The two rode on as
rapidly as the rough way and faint light
would permit them, till the twilight faded into
ooznplete darkness, and still they saw nothing
of the fugitive.

After a while they were obliged to dismount
and advance on foot, leading their chargers,
pioking their way Over loose rocks, only
guided by the starlit opening, flanked by huge
walls of black rock, which told them where was
the summit of the pass.

At last they reached'this place, and found
that they were on the shoulder of part of the
mountain, with a descent on the other side into

‘ a valley that looked like a" black and fathom—

less abyss in the darkness.

“ Well, master mine," observed Pepito rue-
fnlly, “ if the lady be down there to-night, she
may wish she had not let her fears outrun her
roasou. What shall we do now?”

Th3 knight looked all round him ore he an-

.' swerod. Overhead was the starlit sky, with

the dark rugged heads of the mountains out—

_ lined against it, below them was the black val-

ley; and near by, a wood darker than the
valley.

“'1 will wind my horn," quotb the cavalier,
mnsingly. “ She will hear it if she is near,
and will answer us.”

“Ay, and those gentlemen below will hear
it and sneak up after us in the dark,” replied
“ No, no, your worship. If the
lady is near she will hear your worship‘s voice
and know it better than all the horns in Spain.
Doubtless she is hiding in the woods, afraid to
come forth.” ,

“Thou art right. Pepito,” rejoined his mas-

. tor; and forthwith he began to call, at first in

low tones, but then louder, till he waked the
echoes all round them:

“Panchi:al Lady mine! Where art thou?
We are all safe. Come forth 1”

Again and again he called, but the mocking

. echoes alone repeated the sound, and no answer

echo back.
Panchita had disappeared.
{the knight paused a moment, then turned

,hio horse and rode back, saying:

“Stay thou here till morning, Poplin. She

.moy have returned to the plain.”

Then he, too, disappeared in the darkness.

 

CHAPTER XVIII. ‘
nun AND snnx.

Wm Mensa and Zoraya rode out of the
Winard’a Castle it was already night, but they
could see the light color of tho Barges road
leading to the north-east, and followed it

boldly.

It was the princess, fearless as ever from
long immunity, and not yet mm»! by adver-
sity, who led the way; for Mouse, though an
old executioner, devoid of most human pas-
dons, was by no means as bold as his mistress.
He was, moreover, unused to the weight of

' the armor he was carrying, and fond of his
'onso; therefore it was with many growls, con-

ooalod and aloud, .that he followed the lying
white steed of his giddy mistress.
Zoraya, on hes-put, felt so secure in her dis-

‘1 gmse that she was tempted to run into all

sorts of perils for the more frolic of the adven-
tnre. She could see that no one suspected
dthor her sex or color, for her luxuriant blaok
hair was coiled close to her head, concealed
liy a woolly wig, and her skin had been care-

, fnlly dyed with a dye that would not wash

o! without ohemicais, in which the Moors
wd~e quite learned.

She rode a white Arab, to which her light
weight was but as a feather, and the bulky
Mouse had to keep urging his own horso all
the time to maintain anything likeaproper
distance between them.

Thus thoy rodo on at a rapid pace for about
half an hour, when they saw before them in
the road three dark and heard the

olotter of hoofs and armor that told whoro

tho squire and retainers of the Count Velas—
quez were trotting rapidly on.

. . , ,

‘ tor, in a tone of gleeful excitement.

 

Then Zoraya slackoned her pace and allowed
Mouse to come up beside her.
, “I told thoo so,” whisporod the little impos-

“These
men are going after my Ali Moudara, to slay
him by treachery, and we must stop them."

“ Howl” asked Mou’sa, doubtfully.

“How, indeed!” was the scornfal reply.
“ Thou an old swordsman and dost not know!
I’ll show thee i"

As part of his disguise as a black slave of
the harem, the seeming Zadok bore a small
scimitar, a slender weapon curved like asickle,
and not much longer. In speaking, the boy
flashed this out in the starlight, and said to
Mouse:

“ Come along, old camel, and let us see
whioh can cut best. Those horses must not
stir another step on the road to Burgos after
we reaqh them. Dost understand?”

Monsa showed his whito teeth for answer,
and drew his own scimitar, which he had car-
ried with him all the way from the palace of
Al Zoh ra, as too precious a thing to be parted
from.

With that scimitar, slender and slight as it
was, Mousa Mad cut of! many a head at the
command of his master, and the feeling of its
handle always encouraged him to smile.

“They shall stay where they are, princess,”
was all he answered as they galloped on after
the trotting men-at-arms, whom they rapidly
overhauled.

No sooner did the latter hear the clutter of
hoofs in pursuit than they halted, and one of
them shouted:

“ Who in the (land‘s name comes after us so
fast? Did the count send ye?”

“ Ay, ay,” cried the boy on the white horse,
in his childish tones. We have a message for

e.”

“ And who are ye i" asked the count‘s squire,
grufliy, as they rode up. “Why, as I live,
it’s the two blacks of this cursed Phantom
Knight.”

“Ay, ay; we’re seeking our master,“ cried
the boy, as if breathless. “Is he yet ahead!
The good count told us to ride on and tell yo
all to hurry and return before the dawn breaks,
with what ye know. May we ride with yet"

“ Assuredly ye ride nowhere else,” growled
the squire, grumy. “ Here Flihbertigibbet,
ride thou closo beside my horse, and, look
thou, try not to pass us to warn thy master,
on pain of death. Garcia and Concho, take
the black beast between ye and ride on."

The two seeming slaves made no objection
to this, and the three men atarms, having
thus Secured them, as they thought, trotted on
again over the dark road to Burgos, in pursuit
of the Phantom Knight.

For several minutes not a word broke the
monotonous clatter of the horse-hoofs on the
hard road, and then, all on a sudden, the squire
uttered a savage curse, and his horse halted as
suddenly as if it had been shot, then limped
forward a few steps on three legs, dead
lame.

In the same instant tho boy on the white
horse swept of! at full speed with a taunting
laugh, while Mouse, with one of his old back
strokes, took his right-hand captor across the
throat above his gorget, and sent his head roll-
ing into the road.

Asecond stroke are his left-hand neighbor
understood what it was all about, laid a horse
dead, and then Mousa galloped away, leaving
behind him two utterly amazed and demoral-
iaed murderers, a dead man and horse, and a
second horse crippled for life. The only sound
beast was a heavy charger, utterly unable to
follow their fleet steeds, and the, two fugitives
laughed at the sudden confusion of their foes
as they galloped on. r

“That villainous count on try to entrap
other men, but let him beware how he sets
snares for my knight,” observed Zoraya snap-
ping her white teeth viciously.

“ Now, Mouse, let us hasten on.”

Mouea made no further objections; for his
blood was up. The sudden silent strokes ho
had just dealt were exactly in tho line of his
old profession. Mousa was not fond of fight.
ing, but he loved eating 03 heads noatly.

They galloped steadily on, hour after, hour,
till they had passed out of the valley, entered
another, and began to too some lights ahead.

“Yonder are housoo,_Mousa,” observed the
disguised princess. “ Perhaps my knight will
stop there."

But Mouse slukonod his pace at once.

"Those are no houses: they are campfires,

 

 

I

know not who these men may be.” .

But Zoraya or Zadok, as the disguised slnvo _

boy may be called, only laughed giddily and
galloped on. ,

“Whoever they are, old camel, we must
find our knight,” cried the boy saucily. “If
thou, art afraid, stay behind and leave them to
me.

So they galloped steadily on and soon came
in full view of the camp-fires, around which
were scattered groups of the ruflianly free
lnnces, while the Phantom Knight came in
sight at the same moment, riding out from tho

side of the valley and charging straight into‘

among the sleeping robbers with a loud about.

“Now, Mouse, do thy best,“ screamed the
false Zadok as he drew his little scimitar,
which, for all its small size, was as sharp as a
razor.

Then the fearless little creature, who had
never known danger, galloped into the midst
of the camp-fires among the ruffianly free-
lances, just as the Phantom Knight, swept in at
the other side, while Mouse, hovered on the
outskirts, yelling in his shrill tones.

The effect of this sudden attack was remark-
able. There Were nearly fifty men lying
round the fires, half armed or unarmed; and.
as soon as they heard the shouts they leaped
up, bewildered, and began to scatter. A few
turned to oppose the tall figure of the Phantom
Knight, only to go down beneath his lance,
while others, with more resolution, rushed to
meet Z'Idok; but the majority either ran away
or stood stupidly, not knowing which way to
turn.

As for Zadok, that giddy little warrior was
not so giddy but that he took oaro to koop out
of the reach of the ugly swords and nxos of the
men that turned to fight, confining himself to
cutting the fugitives over the back and shrit k-
ing most valorously.

But it was not long before‘tbo amazed free-
booters, who thought that they had driven
this very knight to the mountains, and saw
him reappear as terrible as evor, hogan to tulie

heart when they found they only had three

antagonists. ,

A few of them jumped on their horses With--
out waiting to saddle, and obased old Mouse
down the valley; while the rest gathered so
thickly round the Phantom Knight, that they
obliged him to retreat, fighting all the while,
and finallyto trust to the speed of his horse
to escape, going up the valley toward Burgos.

It was not strange that when the knight
flnally fled. the black page should follow his
protector Zadok, in his ignorance of danger,
had imagined he had only to rush in and see,
all his enemies flee; but when they turned to
fight and he saw the blows strike his knight
more than once, the little slave began to quake
under all-the disguise which hid the princeea

Therefore it was not long before the page
found himself far ahead of all the rest, gallop-
ing up the valley, followed by the knight on
the gray horse, who was in turn followed by a
rabble of shouting pursuers.

On they went, hour after hour, till the moon
began to, rise over the mountains, while the
shouts of their pursuers died away in the dis-
tance: and, far ahead of them, they could see
a twinkling light that seemed as if it one
from a turret window. ‘ .

Then Zadok slackened his pace and allowed
his knight to come up, when he gayly greeted
him with the salutation, half in jest:

“Who would have thought that a valiant
knight would run from a few robbers? Out
on thee! . I thought thou wast a great warrior,
Ali 'Moudara." '

The moon had cleared the top of the moan.
talc, and they could see each other’s faces
plainly by the dim light. .

Much to the surprise of the littlo madcap,
the knight looked sternly at Zadok and coldly

' demanded: .

“ Who art thou that wags?“ thy t0118“ 9'
freely at All Moudarai By the heard of my
father, ’tis the imp Zadok that they told us
of! Let this teach thee manners, thou spirit
of Eblisl”

Anders the disguised Princess could under-
stand her pooition, the knight had seized her by
the ocllar, given her a vigorous shaking. and
ended by using both ears soundly with tho
open pain of his hand.

To say that the wild princess was amused
at this il'entmont is mild Ibo was
utterly confounded, thunder-stuck and dia-
mayed. From the moment he r0100“ her,

gracious princess. Let us go slower.» Wow

 

 

.5333” «

.» "Vo-

 

.5333” «

 

 

 

 

half-stunned with the blows, sick and dizzy
with the shaking, she drooped her head down
on her saddle-bow and all her bravery left her.
The wild girl, who had aped the boy in pure
lightness of heart, became in a moment the
frightened woman, shrinking with inexpressi-
hie horror from physical violence. And then
Zorayn broke down and sobbed bitterly.

The knight seemed to be too much cha'fed
and angry to commiserate her plight, for he
continued fiercely:

“ What meanest than by coming out in that
white mantle, on a horse like my lady’s, to

cheat me into following thee, thou imp of

darkness? By the board of Al Mausour, I
thought it was my Panchita, and find only
thee. Whence comest thou?”

Zoraya raised her head and looked in dire
dismay at the knight,

“ Could this be her cavalier, who spoke in
suitineg to her, struck her, and openly boasted
to her of his love for Panehitai"

Alas! there was no mistaking his 'every fea-
ture and point of equipment. Then a great
lump seemed to come into her throat, and she
spoke in a choked tone:

“ Thy Panchital Has it come to this?”

The knight frowned haughtiiy.

“ Thou imp of darkness, what dost thou
mean by mentioning the lady’s name without
a title?”

“Because I hate her, the pale-faced, yellow-
haired—” .

flue had got thus far, fairly stung to fury at
last, when the knight made another clutch at
her head, and in so doing snatched of! the
woolly wig, and loosened Zoraya’s magnificent
long hair, till it fell over the horse’s croup like
a eascado of black silk.

The sight seemed to amaze him so much
that his .hand paused in mid-air, as he ejacu-
lated:

“ Prophet of Allah! ’Tis a girl I,”

But Zoraya was too much worked up to heed,

his tone of amazement.

Bursting into a flood of angry tears, she
sohbed out:

“ Is this thy knighthood, base and ungrate-
ful! Have I chosen thee from all others, aban-
doned my home to roam with thee, perilod life
and fair fame, to be thus treated? Just Allahl
has it come to this, that the Star of Cordova
should be struck like a slave by a man, who
boasts that he loves Panchita?"

The reaction of ‘pride and insulted dignity
checked her tears, and she grew hysterical with
anger and grief, while the knight sat on his
horse, looking silently at her.

As soon as she stopped for breath he inter-
posed, in a tone whose gentleness contrasted
forcibly with his previous harsh manner:

“In the name of Allah, maiden, I ask thee,
who art thou? Is it possible that thou art the
runaway princess of whom the kiaschefs told
us!”

Zoraya turned on him with a glance of
haughty indignation.

“ How darest then question me? Runaway
prineoss indeed! Who was it tempted me from
home with his soft speeches, swearing to love
me forever!” \

“ Not I, by the throne of the Mighty One,
hdy? Ali Moudara has never yet been false
to his Panchita, the peerless beauty of the
world.” _

Zoraya could stand it no longer. Her
nature, potted and indulged from childhood
was brimful of jealousy, and this open praise
of a rival was fairly maddening to her. Ut-
tering a shrill cry of rage she raised her tiny
hand and smote the knight in the face, scream-
ligi , .

“Base wretohl Kill me if thou wilt but
give that to Panchitai”

The cavalier did not ofler to ward 08 the
blow, but his face grew pale in the moonlight
as he said slowly and gravely:

“I Struck thee innocently, thinking thee a
saon boy; but thou hast done a deed for
which another must pay. I am not thy lover,
as thou thinkest, but All Moudara, son of Al
Mansuur; and thou, as I think, art the foolish
princess Zorn a, that hath sold the honor of a
true believer a Christan) dog, one Gonzalo
Gonzales. Where is this man fled to?"

Zoraya had been listening to him with a
1800 that beSan to work with various emotions.
When he had finished she falterod out:

“What! Art then not my knight indeed
and in truth?"

“ Indeed and in truth I am All Moudara,
heating out the foul impostor who hath stolen

 

- Zoraya carelessly.

 

my name and property; entered my castle
when I was absent; caused my father and
mother to deny me; and finally hath stolen
away a great princess, disguising her into the
likeness of a black slave, to the shame of all
the world.”

Every word spoken by the knight seemed to
go through the heart of the giddy princess
like a stab. She droeped her head lower and
lower and finally fell forward on the pommel

’ of ‘her saddle overcome with shame and eon-

fusion her black hair falling like a vail over
her disguised face.

“Oh what shall I do?" she murmured.
“ Where shall I go?”

The knight's face softened as he looked at her
humbled demeanor.

“ Who came here with thee, most foolish of
princesses?” he asked.

"Old Mousa—and—he,” she whispered.

“Old Mouse, sayest thou? And has he been
with thee all the time, lady?”

“Night and day, he never left me till just
now when the robbers parted us.”

“ It is well—better than I hoped. We must
find old Mouse, and then must return to the
dress of thy Sex and rank, and‘ to Cordova
with him."

“Oh, I cannot, now. I dare not.
find him first.”

“ Whom, lady?”

“ My knight.”

And Zoraya, for the first time, threw back
her hair with a proud motion and looked Ali
Moudara in the face. .

But the Moorish knight in the Christian
armor set his face into a stern hard look.

“Iwill find him," he said. “Be not un-
easy, princess, I will find him. When didst
thou see him last?”

Zoraya hesitated. She did not like his ex-
pression. ‘

Ali Moudara smiled sarcastically.

“Thou fearest for him perhaps. Thou
doest well. I will make him wish he had
never been born.”

Then Zoyara was stung to fresh anger, for
no girl likes to hear her lover threatened even
by his living image and double.

“Thou hadst best be wary,” she answered
with a haughty toss of her long hair. “ I
have seen him scatter Aben Amar’s men like
sheep, and he would never have run from all
the robbers in this valley. Why he would
slay thee like a chicken."

All Moudara’s eyes glittered in the moon-
light and his teeth were clinched for several
seconds, ere he mastered himself enough to
reply:

“It is well. Be is on this road, I suppose."

“Nay, as for that I cannot say,” retorted
“ He was with House. and
me at the great castle down the valley, when
he heard of thee, and set oil! to seek thee. I
warrant he'll make thee repent taking his
name to cheat that light damsel, Panchita,
who is dying for love of him and yet isscorned
by him.”

The, knight’s voice shock with anger as he
gave her hack all the sarcasm he could muster.

“ My Panchita is an angel of purity stolen
from her home, whither I am to take her back.
She did not leave it willfully to follow a man
of strange religion.”

“And my Gonzalo will take me to his own
home, without cheating me into the belief that
be is another man. Our eyes are open, but
your Panchita despises All Moudara as much
as I do."

When aman tries to handy words with a
girl he generally gets the worst of it, and so
Ali Moudara found in their brief encounter.
The taunts of thegiri had already cost him
courtesy and temper, and he could not irritate
her out of her smooth smile.

Smothering a. curse under his breath he
turned away his horse with the gruff farewell:

“May we both find what we seek. I can-
not escort a black boy about the country hut I
can kill the man that has stolen the Caliph’s
daughter.” '

Determined to have the last word, she called
out after him:

“Fare thee well, All Moudara. I will tell
my Gonzalo, when I meet him, how the rob-
bers made the run.” '

The an knight dashed his spare into his
horse wifl savage vindietiveness that told
how the taunt had stuck home, and darted
away toward the mountains whence he had
come only a few hours before, chasing through
the darkness the white heiok or Moorish cloak

Imust

    

 

of the disguised princess, which he had
taken for the vail of Panchita.

Zoraya, thus left to herself, at first laughed
triumphantly at the flight of the disoomfited
knight, then flopped with a choke and began
to weep bitterly, and finally sobbed herself al»
most into hyste ice.

The reaction of fear and shame had set in as
she found herself alone in the moonlight, in the
degrading disguise of a boy slave, to he beaten
and cuffed by any one who chose to do so.
The sting of Ali Moudara’s bl0ws, albeit unwit-
tingly given to her, seemed to scorch her
cheeks like fire, even yet, and she began to feel
the pangs of fear at her loneliness.

“ Why did I ever leave Al Zohra, and where
shall I go now?" she groaned to herself.
“ Where has old Mensa gone? Oh, if over I
find him I will never leave his side again till I
am safe in Medina Al Zohra. W'hy did Gon-
zalo desert me in this heartless manner, and
where has he gone to?” '

The moon had new risen so high that Zorayn
could look about her and see the country for o
good distance on all sides. She had peased out‘
of the valley where the robbers had their camp,
and knew from the Speed of her horse that she
must be at least twenty miles, if not thirty,
from the Wizard’s Castle. I

She had in fact reached the top of the main

range of the Sierra Guadalupe and had halted
on the divide looking on one side down the
plains of Toledo, and on the other into the
table lands of Castile. It was on the latter
side that was visible the little twinkling light
that shone from the turret window of a distant
castle, rising gray and ghostly in the moon»
light, and something seemed to impel the wan-
dering princess to approach that light, which
was at least ten miles away.
‘I Not caring to pick up her negro’s wig, hit-
terly ashamed of her boy’s disguise, trying to
concoct some tale to account for her singular
appearance, Zoraya turned the head of her
swift and patient steed toward the distant
light and rode toward it.

Ere very long, as she rode, she became sa-
sible that another traveler on a white horse,
and likewise dressed in white, was Some miles
ahead of her, going toward the castle, and she
whipped up her horse, saying to herself in
tones of great relief: ' .

“That must he himself at last. I am sale
after all. Now, All Moudara, look to thyself
when I have told him.” '

She rapidly overtook the distant traveler,
who frequently halted as if to look round him,
and in one of these pauses Zoraya waved
white cloak in such a way as to attract attest-
tion, when to her delight the white figure
paused and came rapidly back. '

“ It is be after all, praise Allah i” cried the
girl, gleefully; and then she galloped on faster
than before till she and the new-comer were
together.

Then came two exclamations of wonder and ‘
alarm:

“ Panchitai

“ Zorayal

lb.

Thou here!”
Here I”

—_

CHAPTER XIX.
msranssnn ansan.

How came Panchita out in the night alone,
and how came she, where she was, to meet Zo-
raya? To answer this it is necessary to go
back to her when she fied so wildly from P9-
pito’s care into the mountain gorges.

When the brigands .first confronted All
Moudara (for the reader can no longer doubt
who was Panchita’s knight), the girl had been
terrified half to death, for she was not made
of the same stuff as Zoraya. It was in sheer
blind fear that she had fled so fast, and ha-
horse, catching the infection of her terror, had
finally runaway with her. carrying hernp
the pass and into a labyrinth of ravines and
gullies, till he‘ paused at last, blown and ex.
haunted for the time, in a deep ravine, sloping
downward to the table-lands of Castiie, a fact
Panchita recognised as soon asshe recovered
her coolness. _

All was silent around her. How far she
had come in her wild race she knew not;
though she realised that her horse was fleet
and enduring enough to have taken her at loam
half a day’s journey of the common heavy-
horsee of Casfile. -

All that she felt sure of was that Gentile and
home lay somewhere in the direction she w.
going; and as soon as hersteed had recovered
his breath she rodeon inthe only directig

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

open to her. She could see that the. ravine,

sloped down to a. broad valley, which in its
turn merged into a vast desolate plain, and
far away in the distance shone a solitary light
which told of some human habitation.

“ And whatever it be, it must be Christian,”
quoth Panchita to herself: “therefore I will
trust it, and wait there until Gonzalo comes to
find me, as a true knight should." -

The girl had no fears but what her lover
would GLIDE back to seek her and would find
her. no matter where she went. She had been

bred up in the atmosphere of chivalry, which ,

accounted nothing impossible to a knight in
the cause of his lady.

Therefore, she rode boldly on down the
ravine into the broad valley, and thence out
on the desolate plain, the rising moon coming
at last to cheer her with its welcome light.

Panchita was by no means devoid of fear as
she rode on.
thing round her, the wild desolation of the
prospect, so different from the rich plains of
Moorish Toledo, inspired her with awe, and
she started in nervous terror every time that a
hare scudiled across the heath, disturbed at his
midnight feast by the footfalls of her horse.

Finally she came near enough to the light to
see that it proceeded from the upper window
of a great white building that had the appear-
ance of a castle, or of one of those fortress like
convents t en common in Spain, wherein the
holy monks and nuns found relnge from the
insults of wild raidingparties, whether Moors
or Christians.

Now that the girl felt a little more at her
case in the prospect of a shelter, she began to
look round her more attentively, and could see
no signs whatever ’of cultivation. She was, in
fact, on those great table-lands of Central
Spain where nothing grows but grass and

heath, and where the shepherd supplants the
husbandman. Save the great white building
in the distance, there was no sign of human
habitation; not so much as a mud hovel, as far
as Panchita could discover.

Now she began to halt at intervals and look
back, in the hope of seeing the knight Whom
she persisted in calling Don Gonzalo, for Pan-
chita had a feminine way of insisting that her
lover ought to know everything she did, in-
cluding the finding of her track in the dark.
She did not know that he had left Pepito to do
this, while he returned to the valley with the
object of intercepting her probable path north
into Castile, judging, with the experience of a
Moorish warrior, that such would be her ulti-
matedirection. .

Punchita halted, turned her horse, and
looked earnestly back, but saw nothing. With
‘a sigh she rode on again toward the light,

y to stop afresh in a little while.

Repeating these maneuvers several times,
she was at last gratified by lhe sight of some:
thing white coming rapidly over the plain
from the south-west.

“ He has found me at last,” ejaculated the
.girl gleefully, and then she saw the waving of
a white cloak, which she took for a signal to
her to stop.

Without more hesitation, but wondering
somewhat as to the absence of the squire (for
she could only see one figure), she rode back,
to be confronted, to her intense amazement,
by‘a black boy, With a woman’s hair, and the
voice of Zoraya, who called out to her:

“Panchital Thou here!”

The Voice was full of angry question, as if
. the owner were‘ercited and disappointed; and
all poor Panchita could falter out Was:

“ Zorayal Here I” '

“Yes, Zoraya, herel” cried the strange

' being, indignantly. “ Dost thou think that I

’ Would let thee roam the country, trying to
steal away my knight from me, and not fol-
low thee to the death!” .

Zoraya was by no means as much amazed as
Panchita. but much more angry, both from
disposition and provocation. She had known
from All Moudara that Panchita was some-
where near, whereas the Christian girl was
utterly ignorant of the vicinity of Zoraya till
she recognized her by her voice.

’ ' The question about her knight, however,
nettled her; for Panchita was not entirely de-
void of spirit, as we have seen, and she re-
torted‘ '

“ it was not I who stole him, Zoraya. He
followed me.”

‘.‘ And thou thinkest, doubtless, that he is
‘ Don Gonzalo Gonzales?” asked Zoraya, sneer-

may

The utter loneliness of every- 3
‘ respecting inc."

 

“I think that he is, unless all men are liarsf’
answered Panchita. '

“’Tis true he denied his name awhile, and
said that he was one All Moudara, (under thy
spells, Zoraya); but he came to me only yester-
day and admitted that he was his true self,
Gonzalo Gonzales, son of the Count of Lara.
His squire was with him and confirmed it."

Zoraya laughed sarcastically.

“ A pretty tale indeed! Here hast thou
been wandering the country alone with the
Moorish cavalier, Ali Moudara, whom we all
thought to be in Africa, and he has blinded the
scruples of my delicate lady by pretending
that he is Don Gonzalo Gonzales. And I dare
swear he pretends to love thee, this vain and
overbearing champion, who takes the lofty
title of Lion of the Rock.”

Panchita flushed crimson, but made shift to
answer bravely:

“ My knight loves me, and has proved it by
" By deceiving thee, rather. Dost thou pre-
tend he is a Christian?"

Panchita’s voice trembled.

“Why not?”

“ Has he ever told.thee so?”

The girl hesitated a moment, and then an-
swered slowly:

“ Not directly. But he has answered when
I called him Gonzalo.”

“ Allied him Gonzalo? of course. He must
be a dull fool that would not lie to pleasea
lady. My knight is the true Gonzalo; but he
bears the name I gave him, All Moudara, be-
fore all the world, because I ordered him;
though we both know the true Ali Moudara is
another.”

Poor Panchita listened with a rueful face,
and {altered out:

“Do I then love a miscreant Moor? (Oh
Zoroya, I thought—”

“ I know—thou thoughtst—that is it. And
didst thou think that a man honored by the
love of the Star of Cordova would turn away
to a. pale puny thing like thee?"

Zoraya’s voice had a tone of angry scorn as
she made the demand, and she laid her hand
threatenineg on the little scimitar she still
wore. The hot southern blood of Arabia was
all afiame with angcr, and the pale Gothic
Panchita quailed before her electric passion.

- “Mercy, Zoraya, mercy!” she pleaded. “ I
did not know it indeed. I never sought him.
I was going to the mountains with Pepito
when I met him, and I thought ’twas—the
other.” . ,

“ And dost thou dare to say thou still l vest
Gonzilo Gonzales?” asked the Morisco gi in
the same tone of menacing import.

“ No, no. ‘I love him—my knight—who-
ever he be, Zoraya. 0h, would to the Holy
Saints he were here now i” -

“ He is vainly scouring the mountains after
his Panchita,” retortecl Zoraya in her bftterest
tones; "and ere he comes back he will find my
Gonzalo, who will strip the hide off this Lion
of the Rack ere he can bless his sweet lady.”

Panchita looked at her a moment in amaze-
ment and terror.

“Are there indeed two of them, and will
they kill each other?” she asked in' a low voice.

"No. My knight will kill thine: that is
all,” answered Zoraya, sharply.

Then Panchita burst into tears at last and
sobbed out: ,

“ Oh, Zoraya, is it possible? How cruel thou
hast grown! I would not see a hair of thy
knight's head harmed, because of his likeness
to mine. Who knows what they may be?"

Zornya’s face softened at once, for she was
generous and forgiving to any person who did
not oppose her to the end.

“hay, nay, it may not be as bad as that,”
she admitted. “All Moudara is said to be a
good warrior; and Were he not so pufled up
with pride, I might have loved him myself;
but it will be a hard ‘battle, I doubt, nothing.
He is a proud, haughty, cruel and ill mannered
knight, and a little blood-letting will do him
no harm.”

“Why, Zoraya,” cried Panchita in the. ut-
most amazement, “he is humility itself and
the soul of courtesy to me. Why should we
quarrel, my sister? for sisters in misfortune
we are. We both love noble knights, and they
hate each other for no cause, but that one is
like the other. They may be brothers,
Zorayal” ' ‘

The disguised princess was softened again,
for all her ill-humor could not withstand the
gentle persuasion ot~ multita-

 

“ It is true," she admitted, “ there is no re.-
son we should hate eath other, for we do not
love the same man. But how can they be
brothers, when one is a Moor and the other is
son to the Count of Lara?"

“ That I cannot tell,” replied Panchita, mus-
ingly, “ but this I know, that two men so mar-
velously alike in form and fealure must needs
be akin in blood. Whom say they is this Ali
Moudara, who hath deceived us both i”

“Not both; I never was deceived in him,
after once I saw him.”

“ Well, sister, say who has deceived poor
me, all alone. Who is he?”

“Men called him the son of Al Mansour, in
Cordova,” replied Zoraya in the same thought-
ful tone as Panchita.

“ But stay— no—I have it. i have heard
Mousa say that he was only adopted by the
Vizier, and Was really stolen on some raid
from the Christians.”

Panchita clapped her hands.

“ I knew it! My gallant knight was born a
Christian, and I shall yet bring him back to
the faith of his fathers, while thou, my sister,
will wed the noble Count of Lara and embrace
our holy religion. Oh, how happy we shall
be, then; and how we will love each other, my
sister!” .

The little maiden‘s face was all aglow with en-
thusiasm, which was rather chilled by Zoraya’s
answer.

“I have a better plan. Ali Moudara, proud
peacock though he be, is a true believer, and
shall convert thee, while I will win, my Gonzalo
from the'idolatrous worship of his images, and
we will all embrace the only true faith. There
is no God but God, and Mohammed is his

_ Prophet. ”

Panchita fixed her mild, dove-like eyes on
Zoraya pleadingly.

“Nay, sister, it is not possible that thou
canst truly believe in the wretched impostor
of Mecca, who denieth woman her place in
heaven, and canst look coldly on our Holy
Mother Church, wtere a woman is the Queen
of Heaven itself.”

Zoraya. was tempted to reply with a mock:
ing sneer, but the mild face of Panchita dis.
armed her, and she threw her arms round her

.neck instead and embraced her heartily, as she

said:

“ Thy religion is better than mine, in that it
has made thee so gentle. Panchita, 1 will go
with thee where thou wilt, even to yonder
Christian. castle, for, by my father’s life, I am
weary of this black masquerade, and would be
a woman once more. Wilt thou vouch for me,
my sister in distress?”

“ Willin’gly,” cried the placable and now de-
lighted Panchita. “Thou wast kind to the
lonely prisoner, and now she shall repay thee.
Let us ride on, my sister.” ‘

The lately angry but now fast reconciled
girls turned their horses toward the white
building without more ado, and began to ex-
change confidences on the way as to their
previous adventures and how they had come
there.

Zoraya told with great glee how she had
brought away Gonzalo and Pepito from the
prison, hidden them in the harem under the
very nose of her father, and sent Pepito off to
the market to procure the dress of a. black
slave for Don Gonzalo, since which the squire
had not been heard of. This made a change in
her plans necessary, as it had been her inten-
tion to have gone off in the guise of three
slaves together, in charge of old Mousa, as a
present to the Governor of Toledo.

Fearing that Pepito might reveal their plans
and hiding-place under torture,’ the princess
had hastily sallicd out with her lover, still in
the guise of Ali Mondara. ,

Aided by the arrest of the true All, his false
impersonator had been able to traverse the
country on the public post horses, which the
Moors first introduced in Europe, just in ad-
vance of the kiaschefs, all the way to the bor-
der castle of Ali Mendara, near the pass of the
Almogavars.

“The very place he wanted to take me to
see,” interjecwd Panchita at this point. ,

“Yes,” continued Zoraya; “and there. we
were received by the vessels of Al Manlour
and all0wed to select what we pleased from'
stable and armory, when Gonzalo took the
whim of arming himself all in white, in the
may suit of ’stian armor in the attic.”

“Not the only one,” persisted Panchita,
“for my knight wore Christian armor, '0, 1
should not have let him come nizh' ma?

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“But we were all in white or light gray,
Larses, armor, cloaks and all,” said Zoraya.

“ So were we.”

“ There is something strange in all this,"
protested Zoraya, “and we can never know

how it came to pass till we meet them face to I

face. Now I remernb -r——-the se'rvants brought
out the a. mor with great ceremony, and called
it the ‘ 'ing's Gift.’ But what is all that to
us? Here we are by the castle. How shall we
obtain entrance in this, your Christian land!”

The wandering ladies were in fact under the
walls of the white building they had seen, and
it was more than two hours past midnight.

The building was all blank and silent, save 1

for the one ray of light shining from a slit in
the top of one of the tall turrets at the angles.

The whole edifice was rude and massive,with
a projecting gallery all round the summit,
called in France the Iwurdes. and pierced with
holes in the bottom, for the amiable purpose of
pouring boiling oil, quicklime or melted lead
on the heads of any imperilnent persons ap-
proaching the walls without proper permis-
en n.

“ It is a castle. Zoraya,” explained Pancbita.
“That light is the candle of the watchman in
the turret, who looks out over the landscape to
spy blemish raiders. lf he sees any, he lights
the beacon on the roof at once, to warn the
border that the Infidels are coming.”

“I would he would see us two,” reforted
Zoraya, impatiently. “ Are we to wait here
all night, and how shall we wake him up?”

As if in answer to the wish, a hoarse voice
shouted from the top of the turret:

" Who are ye, down there?”

 

CHAPTER XX.
rm: LONELY casm.
“WE are twu distressed damsels escaped

from the power of the Infidels, and we crave ‘

protection and shelter,” cried Panchita as loud
as she could. “ Will you not let us in, good
friend?”

No answer came at first, and the girl was
obliged to repeat her plea before the watch-
man called down:

“ Can ye not wait till I rouse the castle and
send word to my master! By my faith, ye are
too impatient for people who have been out so
long in the moonlight."

Thus adjured, the two girls were fain to re-
main sitting on their horses before the gate of
the white castle, standing‘all alone, like a sim-
try over the desolate plains of Castile. For a
long time they heard no sound inside, and they
were beginning to doubt if the watchman had
not deceived them, when they were startled by
a Voice just over their heads, and saw a light
gleaming from a loophole at one side of the
gate-towers. .

“ Who are ye, and what brings ye herealone
and unattended!” asked this voice, in tones of
peevish ill-temper. “We are too well used to
Infidel tricks to be deceived, and the watch.
man bath his arbalist ready to shoot ye both if

e lie.”

y “ Indeed, sir, we do not lie,” answered Pan-
chita, earnestly. “ I am Dona Francesca
X'nnenes, daughter of the Prince of the Astu~
rias, stolen from my home for the Maiden
Tribute to Cordova, and escaped thence by the
assistance of this damsel, my fellowprisoner.
Whose castle is this, I pray you, good sir?"

“ This is the castle of the Most Noble Don
Gonzalo Garcia. Count of Lara and Patron of
Calatrava,” was the answer, in tones of less
severity. “ We have heard of the capture of
the Lady Panchita, and if thou be she, indeed
thou art Welcome. Who is the other? ’Tis a
black boy in this light."

“ ’Tis a damsel—a friend of mine that took
that disguise to help me,” “plied panchim, a
little timidly, while Zoraya, whose giddy hu-
mor seemed to be returning, now she was out
of harm, whispered:

“Tell him we came with the son of their
house, silly one. Knowest than not this is the
castle of thy knight’s father? Now shall we
see how he lives at home.”

“ You forget. My knight is not the son or
this house,” answered Panchita, in the same
tone. “ It is thine.”

But they were interrupted by the voice from
the loophole, whence a pair of sharp eyes were
evidently watching them:

“ What whisper ye about! Is it a plot ye
are hatching? Who is thy companion, thou
who claimest to be Dona Panchlta!”

“A. damsel who has escaped with me as I
told thee," replied the girl abashed.

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“ What is her name?”
“ Zoraya.” ‘
“ lndeed. A Morisco than}
. Christian at once?
4 in the castle.”
Here Zoraya interposed in her light mocking
way.
. “ Concern not thyself, good friend, as to my
religion. If I turn Cnristian it will not be for
l a chaplain. Tell your master we have seen his
son abroad and bringr him news of Don Gon-

Would she turn
We have a holy chaplain

‘ zalo. Perhaps that will make izim hurry for
:we are half frozen out in this cold night
1 air.”

Immediately the girl spoke the light disap-
peared from the loophole and the cross voice
i became as amiable as that of a dove.

j “I will open the gate at once. Enter in the
,name of heaven if ye bring us news of our
I‘ young lord. The count and countess will re-
; ceive ye with joy.”

‘ Zoraya laughed to Panchita, as she heard
.the rattle of chains within, that told of the
l preparations.

l “ We should never have got in all night if
1we had kept to mild words,” she observed.
, “That suspicious old warder seemed to think
, us dangerous persons to be kept out of his cas~
. tle. As if we could have hurt it.”

I “Nay, sister,” replied Panchita, jealous for
3 the honor of her country which Zoraya seemed
‘ disposed to sneer at. "It is necessary to be
, cautious in time of war, and it is past mid-
1 night. We cannot blame this warder.”

Further discussion was stopped by the dull
. boom of the falling drawbridge and they saw
i before them the dark arch of the gateway with
I a dozen armed men in an outer court, the light
: of torches held by two of them illumining the

white hair of an old man who stood bowing at

I their head.
The two girls, without more ado, rode over
L the bridge and found themselves in the outer
§court of the castle of Lara, surrounded by
l lofty ramparts,t which access was had by
: narrow flights 0 stone steps, built along the
inner face of the ramparts.

The old man bowed obsequiously before the
,girls as they entered, and said:

“Let the noble ladies dismount. We will
see to their beasts. My lord the count and my
lady the countess will see the noble ladies in
their own chamber at once for we are all
wearying for news of our young knight, Don
Gonzalo.” ‘

Zoraya in spite. of her naturally bold-and
impetuous disposition, could not help feeling a
certain amount of confusion as she noted the
curious gaze with which the retainers of Lara
regarded her. In truth with her boy’s dress,
blackened skin, Moorish haick, scimitar and
long, flowing hair she made a sufficiently singu—
lar and incongurous figure. Panchita in the
ordinary garments of a Christian lady at-
tracted no attention, but even the old seneschal
could not help staring at the princess in undis-
guised curiosity‘though he soon averted his
gaze and remembered his manners.

They were ushered respectfully into the
castle hall, which was all dark and silent, the
fire smoldering in a heap of embers, and thence
,down a succession of dark corridors to the
chamber of the lord and lady, where the
seneschal tapped at the door and was greeted
with an invitation to enter.

Then eraya, her heart beating strangely,
was ushered into the room and stood in the
presence of the parents of him she’loved and
had served so well.

The Count of Lara was a very old and in-
firm man, wrapped in the long, furred gown of
a knight, and was seated in'a great chair by a
blazing wood fire, which lighted the room so
much as to make lamps unnecessary.

The old countess Sancha, her head as white
as that of her husband, was ensconced in an-
other chair on the opposite side of the fire, and
the old couple had evidently been roused from
their slumbers and were waiting in some agita-
tion the report of their retainers as to the in-
traders.

“Well, Manuel, who are they?” asked the
old knight in a quavering voice. “ Are they
true ladies, or spies of the Moor come to find
out our condition.”

“The ladies are maidens escaped from the
Moor, and one of them saith she hath seen our
young lord,” answered the seneschal.

The Countess Sancha uttered a faint cry of
wonder and bent forward in her chair.

“Which one has seen my son; which one!”
she asked in her trembling voice.

 

 

“This one,‘my lady.” And the seneschal
pointed to Zoraya who stood uneasily finger-
ing the handle of her little saber.

“But that is a boy,” ejaculated the old
count, peevishly. “Thou saidst there were

I two ladies, Manuel.“

,1 “Nay, my lord,” interposed Panchita in her
: swr‘et tones, stepping in front of Zoraya as she
l spoke, “I will dare wear that I at least am no
f boy, and I can vouch that beneath this disguise
1 beats the heart of as proud a lady as any in
l Castile. I am Francesca de Ximenes—“

“ What! the daughter of my old friend Don
Xim'enes, stolen away by the Moors i” cried the
old count. “ Why, lady, thy father‘s people
have been hunting all Castile and Leon to find
thee, and Don Ramiro Dioz left here only this
morning to go to the convent of St. Ursula
whence came a message purporting to be from
thee. How comest thou abroad alone in the
night, and here too?”

It was Panchita‘s turn to be confused now
and she stammered:

“ I came with a knight who told me —”

Here she stopped for she felt too much
embarrassed to exiilain how she had been de-
ceived, and the old countess broke in:

- “ Who was it? My son?”

“ I—I thought it was—he said it was—but I

have since found out that—it was another."
' While Panchita was stammering her discon-
nected explanations Zoraya had been hardenv
ing herself intoa portion of her old courage
and now impatiently broke in on the dis-
course.

“Let us tell the whole truth, my sister. and
puule the good count no longer. Senor Chris~
tian, I am the Princes»: Zoraya, daughtrr of
the Successor of the Prophet. I came to Cas-
tile with Abeu Amar to bring back the
Maiden Tribute to my father.
with the rest. No Moors stole her, but ypur
own pious Christian king of Leon. We met
your son, Don Gonzalo, at the Pass of the
Almogavars, and he had the audacity to kill
Aben Amar, scatter the Moorish guard and
pretend to release the Maiden Tribute."

The old count rose up, trembling with ex-
citement.

“ My brave boy! He is worthy of the blood
of Lara! Go on! Go on!”

Zoraya smiled mockingly.

“ He is indeed as full of the follies of chive

surprise that the maidens did not wish to be
taken back to the barren rocks of Castile after
I had told them of the rose gardens of Cor-
dova. Then he saw me, senor; and was
pleased to fall at my feet and swear that he
.loved me.”

The old count surveyed her with incredulous
amazement.

“ Loved thee !
it boy or girll" ‘
Zoraya laughed in her most mocking tones

as she retorled:
“ Does a black horse please thee less than a

My son kneel to a black, be

fast? But I am not all black, most noble lord. .
See 2”

She threw back her sleeves to the shoulder,
and showed how she was only dyed to the el-
bow. ~ ‘
- “4 My skin is as white as thine, as thou shalt
see in the morning when I have cleaned me
of this dye. Black or white, I took thy son to»
be my knight, and he hath sworn allegianco to
me."

“ But how came ye hither? Be brief, in
charity, good frien whether black or white,
boy or girl," cried t 0 old count, peevishly.

“ Simple enough, my lord. I made Don
Gonzalo assume the name of Ali Mondara. the
son of Al Mansour, knowing that chief to be
like him in face and figure, and inasmuch as
Ali Moudara was absent in Africa. The young
cavalier was willing and he took us to Toledo,
whence this .lady fled to Castile alone. I,
thinking he had assisted her escape, bade him .
show his faith to me by finding her and bring- 1
ing her back to me.”

“ Ohol" chuckled the old countess, who had
been listening attentively. “ My little boy
was jealous. So the love was not all on one
side. My boy is a handsome knight for-
sooth." ~

Again Zoraya laughed and hardened herself
to answer:

“ We Morisco maidens are foolish enough to
give love for love, lady. We do not believe
in the Christian minions of proud ladies who

 

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vanity. I sent Don Gonzalo away to prove
his faith, but the spies of Al Mansour detected
his disguise, carried him to Cordova, and the
Vizier ordered his immediate execution."

Now count and countess st Lifted up together
with the agonized cry:

“ What! is be dead?”

“ Nay, nay, or I should not be here,” an-
swered Zoraya, gravely. “ I myself, hearing
of his imprisonment, left my father’s palace,
where dozens of slaves await my every whim,
hid myself beneath this disguise and aided him
to escape. What is my reward, you Christian
father and mother? Ha I had lost all to save
left me without one word, with my old black
slave Mousa, alone in the castle of Ruy Velas-
'quez.”

She was interrupted again, this time by the
countess, who uttered a cry as if some one had
struck her.

“Not there, not there, sweet princess! Say
not that my son willingly left thee in the
Wizard’s Castle.”

“Assuredly he did, lady, and I like a fool

. followed him while he was chasing the night

after a Will 0’ the Wisp whom I take to be
All Moudara himself searching for him. While
I was hunting Gonzalo I met Ali, and we quar-
soled, after which I found this wandering
damsel, hunting Ali and thinking him Gon-
mid and we came here together."

“And dost than say that my son entered
the Wizard's Castle?” asked the old count in a
kw tone as Zoraya paused in her story.
‘ Where then was Pepito?"

“ In Cordova, a prisoner."

“ Nay, sister, for he was with me not three
hours before I met thee in the valley," inter-
posed the wondering Panchita. “He and his
Inter escaped from Cordova and came to the
caveat yesterday to carry me to my father.”

“Whom meanest then by ‘bis master,’

vhdyl” asked the Count of Lara.

“Nay, my lord, I thought he was Den
0; he answered to that name; and his
squire was the same man that always rode
with Don Gonzalo. The Count and Countess
Velasquez saw him in the convent and
seemed as if they feared him greatly, for they
staredathimashehadhoenaspocter."
“And when they saw my Gonsalo," inter-
posed Zoraya, “ they looked as they would
tint away, so much that the count asked him

‘ 3 he were indeed a'phantom.”

The Count of Lara looked at his wife with a

/’ glance full of meaning.

“ They had reason, my children. But how
i this? You say there are two knights,
alike in every feature, and yet—”

“ One is your son: the other is the son of Al
Mansour,” put in the princess promptly.

The old count seemed to be much disturbed
is his mind, for he paced the room, muttering
to himself for some minutes during which the
Countess Sancho remained staring blankly at
her guests.

At lastthe old mauturned tothe new-
comers. .
“Pardon me if I have seemed to be lacking

in courtesy, but this news has moved me much,
’ and I must have time to think over it. Manuel,
, call the women up and let those noble' ladies

be taken to the guest-chamber in the south
boat of the castle and entertained as becomes
theirrank. In the morning I will see them
further when webroak our fast in the hall,
and in the mean time may your slumbers be
sweet.”

The lord of the castle bowed in his most
courteous style as he finished, and the old
countess embraced the girls affectionately and
dismissed them to the care of her women who
were already roused up for the purpose.

As‘soon as the guests had left the room,
Count Gonzalo of Lara turned to his wife and
aid in a low voice full of awe.

“What means all this, San'cha? Has the

' witch Lambra enchanted another into the like

Aces of our only son that she may destroy him
as she destroyed his brethren? It is not pos-
sible there can be another living man on earth
like our Gonzalo."

Countess Sancha did not answer for some
time. She seemed penetrated with the most

~ v ' lively grief.

“Oh, my lord,” she said at last, “when I
mink that all this woe has come to Lara
trough my wicked brother, I feel unworthy to
Ive.”

“Nay, "answered the old knight,
alootionately stroking her white hair, “it
Day has brought harm to Lara, Sancha has

been its good angel. We have one noble son
left at least—" '

“ And who knows how long he will be spared
to us?” interrupted his wife in the same tone
of querulous grief.

“Never had woman nobler sons than mine,
and seven have gone down under the scimitar

l

 

forth to the battle with his vessels to help Don
Garcia Fernandez, Count of Castile. They
found the beautiful dresses of the Lady Ayesha

'in her room after he had gone, but’ the lady

had disappeared, and was afterward found

a dead, in the disguise of a boy, on the great

of the Moor, not slain in battle—for I could ;

have borne that—but betrayed to death by the

brother—alas that I say it i”

“Sancha,” said the old knight solemnly, .

“our sons are in glory, and he who remains is
winning glory for himself. Thin‘kest thou I
have forgotten the past? Not so. But now
comes the question, who is this strange knight,
said to be lhe son of Al Mansour, and yet so
like our boy that he hath deceived Pepito him-
self into following him? Who can he be?"
I The old countess raised her hands and eyes
to heaven, ejaculating:
“ Holy Mother grant my prayer, that I may

the mystery, and not even I till I seethem.”
“What mean’st thou?” asked the Count of
Lara anxiously.
“My lord will see when they are both here
and not before,” was the enigmatic answer of
Sancha. "

 

CHAPTER XXL
m was: KNIGHT.

HOT and scorching rose the sun next morn-
ing over the desolate plains of Castile, for it
was the middle of summer, and not a cloud
dimmed the sky. The wild heath all round the
castle of Lara was dotted with flocks of sheep,
which had been nned all night under the
shadow of the wal s for protection from rob-
bers and 'now roamed abroad, the sole wealth
of the once powerful and rich Count of Lara.

The two girls, exhausted with their vigils of
the previous night, did not waken till the blaz-
ing rays of the sun penetrated their chamber
in the southern face of the castle; and then
Zoraya looked forth on the desolate scene, and
gnny cried out to Panchita:

“ Up, sister, and look out. One might think
we were in Africa rather than Spain, and that
this was the great waste of Sahara. By my
faith, I have a mind to leave Gonzalo to thee,
if this is all his heritage, and go back to Cor-
dova with All Moudara, haughty and iii—man-
nered though he be."

Panchita smiled at the other’s mocking mood
as she answered: v

“ 'Tis because the scene is new that it looks
desolate to thee. See it in the springtime,

bees are humming among the wild flowers by
millions; or in autumn, when the yellow gorse
shines like fields of gold; and our wild tablo-
lands have a charm sweeter than all the palms
and orange groves of Cordova or Seville. But
now it is the hot season, and we-shall have a
hot day, sister. But let us dress. It is time
we waited on the good Count and Countess of
Lara. How strange We should have seen them
thus!"

“Nay, thou mayst see them, but I cannot
for very shame, in broad daylight, and in this
garb," replied Zoraya.

“Thou needst not. I told the women of the
“countess last night who then 'wert, and one of
them promised to bring us the dress of the
Moorish lady, Ayesha, with a store of alcali to
take oi! the stain of the dye.”

“The Moorish lady, Ayeshai
Panchita?”

“ ’Tis a sad story the woman told me. When
the old count was a prisoner in Cordova, years
ago, Al Mansour released him and sent him
home, after his seven sons had been slain under
'one of the spells of the witch, Lambra, that
thou sawest in the castle of Ruy Velasquez.
And this Moorish lady was so touched with the
noble patience and courage of the poor knight
——who was then in the prime of life—that she
fled from Cordova and sought him in this cas-
tle, not knowing that his wife was alive, but in
pure love.”

“She was a fool," observed Zoraya, bitterly;
“ as much a fool as I am. He despised her for
her love of course.”

“Not so, Zoraya. Hear all. She was we];
comed both by him and the good countess, and
became their honored guest and friend."

“But where, then, is the sad story of which
the woman spoke?"

“ That came with the Moors, as of old time.
Al Mansour made a great raid to the shrine of

Who is she,

 

St. Iago at Conipostella, and the count went

3‘1
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see them both ere I die, for I alone can solve .

when the purple heath is in bloom, and the-'

witchcraft of the wicked Lambra and my£

 

battle-field of the Tormes, where fell King
Bermudo, of Leon. Then they first knew that
she loved the knight.”

“Ay,” said Zoraya, in a sad, musing tone.
“They found it when too late, for the other
woman was happy.”

“Nay; the countess had her sorrows too;
for the Moors raided all the country round this
castle, and even surprised the place itself, from
which they were not expelled till after a terri-
ble battle, the Count of Lara returning even
while the robbers were setting fire to the
castle."

“ And where was the countess!”

“Sick in her bed, and many thought she
would die, for on that very day Gonzalo Gon-
zales was born.”

“ A fit time for the birth of such a warrior,”
said the Moorish princess, proudly. “Be is
indeed a knight from the cradle.”

“He was nearly carried off by the Moors
as it was, so the woman says,” replied Panchita.

“They had penetrated into the very room
where the countess lay, when the count rode
in at the gates, took them in the rear by sur-
prise, and drove them forth.”

She was interrupted by the arrival of the
women, by whose assistance Zoraya’s skin was
soon restored to its natural color, after which
she resumed the hablliments of her sex and
nation, with much satisfaction to herself and
Panchita.

“ Now thou art indeed the Star of Cordova!”
exclaimed the Christian maiden, delightodly.
“ I wonder not now that Gonmlo followed
thee like a slave, for thou art worthy of the
noblest knight in the world."

Zoraya smiled, well pleased, for the rough
usage she had experienced the previous night
had rendered her sensitive, and the voice of

- flattery was sweet.

They found the old count and countess in
the great hall, in the patriarchal medimvai
fashion, sitting at the head of the long table,
at which gathered all their retainers. The line
of division between family and vessels was
marked by the huge silver basin of salt which
stood on the table, so that family and guests
were “above” and all the rest "below" the
salt; a form of language that survives to the
present day in places whence the custom has
long vanished. ‘

The ladies were received with the most dis-
tinguished courtesy by the knight, who apolo-
gined for the rude and bare appearance of the

castle and the plain dress of his vassals by say-

ing to Zoraya:

“ Time was, most gracious princess, when
Lara was as rich as any lord of Spain; but,
thanks to the warlike abilities of your great
Vizier, Al Mansour, I have not left to me much
more than the sheep on the heath without. 1
pray the princess to excuse our little omis-
sions therefore.”

On the previous 'night the old count had
made much of Panchita; but now that Zora-
ya’s disfiguring disguise was removed, and that
she was appareled as became her rank, the
luster of her: rich beauty was so overpowering
that a low hum of admiratiOn greeted her as
she entered the hall.

She smiled as she answered the count:

“My lord has nothing to excuse. I would,
for my part, that these cruel wars were gone
forever; for I fear my lord must look on me,
who am a Moor, with little love."

“ Nay, lady, I never blamed an open foe like
the great Al Mansour and his warriors. God
knows, were it not for the bounty of the Moor,
1 might to~day be a fugitive outcast. It was
Al Mausour who gave me freedom after I was
betrayed into his hands by my Own kinsfolk;
and though the Moorish sword slew my seven
gallant sons, ’twas a Christian hand forged the
order for their death. Gracious princess, be
happy beneath my roof if thou canst, for Lara
owes thee and thine naught but love now.”

The old count’s face was marked by various
contending emotions as he spoke, but he ended
quite cheerfully as he led his fair guests to the
table; and the repast went on without further
comment.

It was after breakfast, and while the old
couple were questioning their guests further ,as
to their adventures of the previous day, that a.
confusion became audible outside the hall'in

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the castle conrt. Shouts and cries were heard,
as if men were oalling to each other; and pres-
einly the old senesehal came hurriedly into the

‘hall in great excitement, ran up to his lord and

ejaculated:

“Oh my, lord, my lord! A knight is com-
ing toward the castle; and the men say it is
my young lord, Don Gonzalo!”

Up" started count and countess, Panchita and
Zoraya, in great emotion, and hurried into the
court-yard, where they found the bridge down,
the gate open, and the whole population of the
castle upon the ramparts or out on the glacis,
waving their hands and hats in Welcome to a
single horseman, who was rapidly approaching
the castle, all in white armor, and mounted on
a white horse of slender build, with flowing
mane and tail.

This knight rode at a gallop as if in a great
hurry, and his course seemed to lie directly to-
ward the castle. The nearer he came, the
plainer were face and figure; and the keen-
eighted shepherds and herdsmen of Lara un-
hesitatingly pronounced it to be their young
master, albeit he had left home in much more
sorry guise than he now returned.

As soon as he was within sound of their
voices, they began to shoot and wave their
caps, expecting to see him ride in at the gate;
but to their surprise he took no notice what-
ever of their salutations.

Presently he was abreast of the castle-gate,
and glanced up at the huge white pile of build-
ing witha look as if tempted to draw rein;
but a second thought seemed to prevail over
him, for he dashed his spurs into his charger
and galloped on, faster than ever, over the
dusty plain, heedlem of the group at the gates
and on the walls, vanishing from view in a
yellow cloud and going toward the distant
mountains of the Sierra Guadalupe.

The keen-sighted watchman on the ramparts
above presently called down tothe count that the
strange knight had stopped and was talking to
asbepherd, but they could not see anything
from the plain below, and the disappointed re-
tainers returned to the castle, whispering all
sorts of rumors and conjectures to each other,
while the Count of Lara and his guests were
much abashed and discouraged at the incident.

Panchita remained with her hosts to suggest
crumbs of comfort to them for the girl felt
sure that this uncivil knight could be no other
than All Moudarn‘.

Zoraya, however, more enterprising in her
nature. was not notified to remain in the‘hall.
The damsel was determined to find out the
mystery; and accordingly she mounted the
ramparts, all alone, and went to the watch-
tower, where she found a stout, bmnsed peas-
ant, scanning the country below very in-
tently. ‘

Zoraya looked abroad herself, but could see
nothing of the knight.

A hare desolate plain, dotted with sheep, a
few little pools of water, a distant horizon of
mountains; that was an,

The watchman regarded her with bashful
admiration as she asked him:

“What seeet then of thy young master,
watchman!" * 0

“He is yonder, my lady,” replied the man,
pointing out over the plain.

“ Where? I see nothing."

“Can my lady notice that 'little moving
put! of dust going toward the valley of the

Chico! There, by the furthest pooL Now it

passes. That is the knight that came here. He
8P0k0 to the shepherd, and then went off in
that direction. Yonder is the shepherd coming
to the castle." _

Zoraya could not see the dust of which he
spoke, but she did see the shepherd coining,
and forthwith she hurried down-stairs and into
the hall to tell the count.

Very soon the shepherd tame in, pale and
frightened, to say that he had been accosted
by a phantom in broad daylight, and that this
phantom bore the like-088 of his young master,
Don Gonzalo.

“Hoosked me if anycame tethe castlelast
night, and I told him that a lady and a buck
boy had come. there. And then he frowned
and grated his teeth at me and asked: ‘ Where
is thy young master? Has he come homei’
And when I stared at him, he grew more
angrythan ever; called me stool, and cried
out: ‘Did become with them?’ Iteldhim,
asde as I could for trembling, that no one
had come but himself, and own he turned his
horse and called out: ‘ I will kill him, if he be
yet alive.‘ So saying, he galloped away, and

 

I came here to tell my lord that the Devil has
put on Don Gonzalo’s shape and has sworn to
kill Don Gonzalo.”

The count and countess listened silently to
this story, but Zoraya plucked at Panchita’s
sleeve and drew her aside, when she whis-
pered:

“ Sister, we must away at once. They will
kill each other if they meet now. We must
follow him.”

Panchita started and turned pale. Naturally
timid, her nerves had been shaken by the trials
and perils of the last few days, and she trem-
bled at the idea of new dangers.

“ What can we do, sister?" she faltered.

“ We can find them and reconcile them,” re-
plied Zoraya. determinedly.

“ Hitherto we have been separated, and
trouble has come of it. Now we are together,
and can clear up all this mystery. Come
quietly with me. Say nothing to any one;
but let us get our horses and ride away after
the knight who was here this morning. I sue-
pect he is thine, but there is no telling.”

Panchita made no more objection, cverborne
by the stronger will of her companion. The
count and countess were so busy talking to
each other in low tones about the afi’air of the
morning that they did not notice the absence of
their guests, and the other people of the castle
did not dream of disobeying the ladies. There-
fore it was not long after the return of the
shepherd to the castle that the two maidens
rode out over the drawbridge and galloped of!
on the track of the unknown knight.

The day had grown scorching hot and every
step raised clouds of dust, but their horses
were of the true desert stamp and heeded not
the sun as they swept on, devouring the miles
in their speed as if they had been but'furlongs.

Zoraya took the direction in which the
watchman had pointed from the tower, but
they could see nothing of the knight from the
plain below, though they rode on for several
hours.

The sun was in the zenith when they reached
the mountains; which looked, if possible, more
bare and desolate than the plains into which
they debouched. The grass was all burned up,
the streams dwindled to the merest threads of
water or altogether dry; and the rocks reflec.
ted the glare of the brazen sky till the first
valley they entered was like an oven.

Nevertheless, it was in this valley, hardly
fit for the existence of anything but a. sale.
mauder, that they. found the first traces of him
whom they were seeking, in the shape of the
distinct tracks of a horse.

Here also it was that, while they were slow-
ly walking their own animals along, they
were greeted by the piteous cry in a man’s
voice:

“Ladies, beautiful ladies, for the charity of
Heaven, stop one moment to succor the un-
fortunate Babe. Moustafa, escaped from the

“hands of the Almogavars."

Zoraya instantly stopped, though Panchita
was disposed, in her timidity, to run away.
Presently they saw, coming out of a cleft in
the rocks, a man whose tattered garments had
once been of the Moorish fashion, though bard
usage had almost ruined them. Panchita look-
ed at his face, threw up her hands in amaze—
ment, and ejaculated:

“ Pepito.” .

The scarecrow shook his head.

“Not Pepito. My Only poor Babe Mou-
stafa, at your service.” ‘

CHAPTER XXII.
ran ucnanm vamv.

Tun reader has long ago discovered that the
cavalier who had announced himself in the
Wizard’s Castle as the “Haunted Knight,"
was none other the Don Gonzalo Gonzales.
The bot-headed you g warrior had no sooner
heard that the double who had persecuted him
so long was near, than be dashed off, intent
on vengeance, leaving his lady in charge of
old Mousa, in the halls of one who was,
though be little knew it, a deadly foe to his
race.

The fact was that the old Count of Lars had
been so much overcome by the terrible mis-
fortunes that bad befallen his race at the hands
of Ray Velasquez that he had carefully kept
the knowledge from his only romaining Don,
Gonzalo, fearing that the high-spirited youth
lnight strive to avenge his father’s wrongs be~
fore he was It to do duty in battle. When
the boy graduated into manhood and knight-

 

 

hood ot once, the count sent him forth with
Pepito, who knew the whole story; instruct
ing him to tell it to Gonzalo whenever their
adventures should bring them in sight of the
Wizard’s Castle. As the reader has seen,
chance, and the perplexing likeness existing
between Ali Moudara and himself, had so far
kept Gonzalo in tom! ignorance of his relations
to Ray Velasquez, while they had aroused in
him the most bitter hatred toward Ali Mou—
dara for taking his name, when persuaded by
the pleading of Panchita. The knight was
not well enough versed in logic to reflect that
his own willful assumption of Al Moudara’s
name in Toledo, to please Zoraya. had been the
original cause of the whole trouble.

Now he rode away from the Wimd’s Gas-
tle into the night, hearing that his double had
been seen in the neighborhood, crazy to find
and kill him.

But Gonzalo was not destined to meet Ali
Moudarav that night, though he rode hard and
fast. His acquaintance with the country was
the very cause of his missing his enemy and
escaping the assassins sent after him by the
count. Intent 0n the idea that the stranger
and Panchita had taken the road to Borges,
he failed to follow the valley up which they
rode, to fall into the hands of the free lauces.
He knew that to be a roundabout way, leading
by his father’s castle, and took a shorter route
himself.

The consequence was that the dawn found
him at the summit of the main pass leading to

Burgcs, with an unrestricted view all round .

him and no signs of his enemy anywhere.
Then he realized his mistake and set to work
to correct it at once, by striking across the
mountains to intercept the other road. He
knew that be was at least ahead of his foe.

He stopped and fed his horse from the little

store of grain on his saddle as the sources; I

watered the animnlata spring and resumed
lis journey; the gallant gray barb staying
out with nndiminished vigor. V

All the long morning he rode, the sun get-
ting hotter and hotter as be entered the dry
and barren district of Caetile; till he paused,
near noon, on some cliffs that overlooked the

plains on which stood the old paternal cutie or;

Lara .

Gonzalo looked at it in the dim distance with
an uneasy feeling that he could hardly analyse.
He longed to go there, and yet felt determined
nevertodoeotill hohadsettledhiofeud with
that other knight who had taken his place.
He scanned the plain below him with close at-
tention, and was attracted by two moving
white figures, evidently people on horseback
going toward the mountains, at a point for
distant from himself.

" It is they l” he ejaculated, putting his own
horse in motion. “ The Count Velasqueo says
that the man I hate took away a lady. That
must be she with him. Would to heaven I
had not lost Pepiio in Cordoval He could
watch one road, while I took another. As it
is, I must take my chances." '

He took the first valley leadlng down
the spurs of the range, expecting to find others
that would lead him into the plain, and rode
rapidly to intercept those distant figures, col.
culating on their probable course after they
should have vanished from his sight. But ho
had not rightly reckoned on the devious nature
of mountain paths, and it was late in the at-
ternoon before he emerged in a,hroad valley
that led into the plain and saw at the end cfit,
apparently floating in the air, the white mass
of towers and walls that marked the Castle of
liars.

Then Gonzalo uttered a cry of awe and
wonder. Not a soul was in sight, but the val-
ley before him was trembling and quivering
before his eyes with the fantastic whims of tho
mirage

Standing above it as he did, it seemed as if ‘

a lake was spread out before him, while the
distant castle, enlarged into gigantic propor-‘
nous, was floating in the air, surrounded with

sheep feeding on space, and everything, uncle -

included, turned upside down.

The knight had never soon such a thing,
before, and crossed himself pioust as he
looked. .

“The Evil One is indeed at work," be mut-
tered to himself, “and has done this to balk

me of my revenge. This volley never had' a ,

lake before. How comes it here now!"
In a little while, however, his com'agegot

the better of his superstition, and he ox.

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, “So it be water, let the devil make the lake;
the Christian shall let his horse drink at its
banks."

80 saying, he rode down the slope into the
valley, and saw to his amazement that the lake
receded as he advanced, while the mountains
seemed to be rising in the air and hanging over
his head. .

Now more than ever convinced that this

» . was the work of magic, the fantastic spirit of

chivalry came to his aid.

“It is a knight’s duty to battle against 011-.
chantment,” he cried aloud. " Happy fate,
that has reserved to Gonz do the glory of break-
ing the spells of the Evil Onel Forward, and
\do thy duty 1”

' As he rode on the heat became more intense,
“hile the illusions of the mirage increased
every moment. He began to hear strange
muffled rumblings like thunder, which his
heated imagination located in the bowels of
the earth. The whole prospect was dancing
and trembling before his eyes, and a sense of
oppression in his head was followed by the
wildest. visions. He saw strange monsters in
the shape of black-horned. four-footed crea-
tures, that bounded from rock to rock, and
stared down at him, only to vanish when he
approached them, or to change into the like-
ness of inoffensive goats.

The lake was now replaced by a broad and
nobly flowing river, bordered with delicious
green groves, above which rose the tourch of
Lara, now restored to their natural pOsition,
but still this river receded as he tried to gain
,‘ its banks, and dwindled into a tiny thread of
water, so small that his horse could not find a
place to drink.

vOn rode the knight, marveling exceedingly,
till presently the river seemed to expand into a
lake, so large that the further border was lost
on the horizon, while the castle entirely disap-
peared; but Gonzalo forgot all this in a greater
, and more thrilling excitement.

There, along the margin of the lake, coming
toward him, was a horseman of gigantic
"stature, steed and rider~ seeming to equal the
mountains in their hight; and yet, no sooner
had he laid eyes on it than he saw himself re.
flected in every form, feature and particular of
dress in the phantom rider.

~ “ At last~I have thee, oh mine enemy!” cried
the knight, fiercely, and, as if his charger had
understood him, it neighed loudly.

Instantly the phantom hprse threw up its
head and neighed back in tones that echoed
from side to side of the enchanted valley like

'2 Mthun'der, while the phantom rider brandished

'hisshadowy spear till it seemed to touch the

I“ v‘ sky above. and cried out, in tones equally loud:

“ Impostor and cowardl In the name of
- Allah I defy the!"

“ Impostor thyself l Thy witchcraft is naught,
and in our Lady’s name have at thee!” shouted
Gonzalo, no whit appalled; and then ~ he heard

his own voice reverberating like thunder

I I, through the valley, and began to have a dim

idea of the nature of the illusions that sur-
rounded him.
Hardly had they defied each other, when

I: ' Gonzalo heard the rumble of unmistakable

thunder and saw a dense black cloud forming
itself in the brazen sky behind the spectral
white stranger, and advancing with marvelous
rapidity born the north. He took this as a
new species of magical threat, and instantly
dashed forward at the Phantom Knight to de-
I stroy’ the enchantment in true chivalric style
with the point of his lance.

' battle, and bore down on Gonzilo like an
elephant on a mouse, as it seemed to the

 V I cavalier.

Then ensued the strangest of all phenomena,
and one which strengthened Gonzalo’s convic-
tion that he was destined to break the spell of
' enchantment.

With every leap of his horse to meet the
.phsnthom the apparstion dwindled in size,
while the swimming haze that had enveloped
him seemed to clear away, the lake shrunk to
a tiny pool, the river to a mere thread, moun-
tains and rocks fell back into their places, and

"I l. at last he halted in amazement by the little

pool before a man of flesh and blood, the very
‘ prototype and image of himselt, who seemed
‘to be as much astonished as he wsa.

Only for a moment did both halt, however.
The next, Gonzalo saw that he had his enemy
before him, and he dashed in his spurs and

f L rushed at All Houdara, shouting: ‘

“At lastl, At lastl"

But the stranger was no less ready for the

 

The Moslem knight was no whit behind him
in fury. He had been hunting in vain all day
for Panchita or Pepito—some one he knew—
and his short visit to the castle of Lara had
only inflamed his anger still further.

The illusions of the mirage had affected him
in the same degree as Gonzalo, and he had
been equally awed at first by the spectral and
gigantic form of his rival.

Straight at Gonzalo he went, and so great
was the fury of both, that neither tried to
evade the onset of the other, but met in full
career, lance to lance, shield to shield.

The tough weapons flew to shivers at the
first shock, and the slight l’arb horses recoiled
and fell over on the ground by the pool.

In a trice both knights had sprung up, drawn
their swords, and closed with such savage vin-
dictiveness, that the blades broke ere they had
exchanged fifty blows.

Then, as if by one consent, they threw away
their swurds and shields, grasped their heavy
maces, and began to rain blows on each other,
never pausing to parry, only intent on doing
all the harm they could.

Such work could not last long. Blood began
to flow, and the crash of dinting helmets told
of the mischief being done.

Neither had ever met such a foe before, and
a dim sense of admiration and respect began to
pervade their minds, as each grew sick and
dizzy, but still fought on. So equally were
they matched that neither could obtain a single
advantage, and the delivery of a blow by either
was the signal for a savage return.

At last they staggered weakly toward each
other, unable to lift their maces, and grappled,
falling side by side, and trying to use their
daggers.

The effort was vain. Both had been so se-
verely battered and hid lost so much blood
that they swooned side by side, just as the
black cloud passed over their heads with a tre-
mendous peal of thunder, and discharged its
torrents into the parched valley.

The storm had been brewing all the morn-
ing, and the intense heat had made the mirage
which had deceived them so long, but the
blessed coolness of the shower acted as a com-
plete pacifier to the angry passions of both
men at the same time that it roused them from
their swoon.

Gonzalo woke to life to find himself staring
up at the rain, and felt something beside him
which he recognized, with a faint feeling of
wonder, as his late antagonist, apparently
dead.

With a fe ble efi'ort he rose half up on his
elbow, just Ali Moudara opened his eyes,
and both men stared into each other’s faces
wonderingly. ,

All Moudara put up both hands as he lay on
his back, and feebly grasped Gonzalo by the
shoulders as he whispered:

“ I yield not. We will fight it out.”

Gonzalo tried to grasp his foe by the throat,
and fell forward, half over him, with weakness,
muttering;

“ Yield thee, or die!”

He was blindly fumbling for his dagger,
when Ali Moudara rolled him back and tried
to rise above him, but fell back in a perfect
collapse.

80 there the two knights lay, as powerless as
children, staring up at the pouring rain and
unable to hurt each other. -

A dim sense of the absurdity of their enmity
began to dawn over the minds of both,
and when Ali Moudara presently spoke, the
Cnristian knight responded in the same
spirit.

“ What is thy name?" asked All, feebly.
“Thou art a good knight." \

“ What is thine? Thou art a better,” whis-
pered Gonzalo.

“ I am All Moudara, a Moor," said the one.

“ And I Gonzalo Gonzales, a Christian," was
the reply.

All Moudara smiled feehly.

“ We are quite. Each has stolen the other‘s
name, and both are paying for it. Good-by,
Gonzalo. We could beat the world together,
but we are two fools.”

Gonzalo groaned.

“ We are indeed, and deserve to die. Good-
by, Ali. I deserve to die, but they’ll save thee.
I did the first wrong.” , ,

Then they lay silently there, the rain chill-
ing, them to the bone new that their fury had
abated, for they were all alone, dying in the
desolate valley, and the rivalet was fast swell-
ing toga torrent beside them.

 

CHAPTER XXIII.
BABA HOUSTAFA.

Warm the miserable object before them an-
nounced himself as Baba Moustafa, both ladies
regarded him with intense astonishment, and
Panchita ejaculated:

“Art thou not indeed Pepito!” \

“ I do not know any Pepito, lady.”

“But I am sure I have seen thee are this.
Didst thou not—?

“ Not I, my lady. I never saw your gracious
highness before. It is the other lady I know,
for she gave me this.”

And Baha produced from some recess in his
rags the ring Zoraya had given him at Toledo.

“ And who is thy master, then?”

“ My master is, or rather was, Sheer Ali
Moudara al Gebel.”

“ Why sayest lhou ‘ was ’ ?”

“ Because, to please the gracious lady there,
I took another master, and told so many lies
for him that I fear the angels will neier let
me cross the bridge to heaven over the pit of
hell.” .

“ And who was this master?” asked Zoraya,
who was enjoying the humor of the comical
vagabond.

“I cannot say, my lady. I always called
him ‘master,’ but he could not fight like my
master. He let the Almogavars take me,
while he ran away.”

“ But he said thou didst the running," inter-
p0sed Panchita, smiling.

Baba Moustafa made a comic grimace.

“ I own it, the first time, my lady; and it
cost me many a mile’s tramp ere I stole a mule
and joined the caravan of tie Maiden Tribute;
but the second time I staid. In fact the Almo-
gavars kept me. How they pricked me with
those sharp spears of theirs, till I danced to
please theml But, please God. I was not killed,
and I hid my ring and got off in the night.”

“ And what hast thou done ever since,
Babs?”

“Lived on anything I could find, my lady
and it was poor living.” ‘

“ And hast thou seen thy master!”

“ No, my lady—that is—I don’t quite know,
my lady.”

“ What meanest thou?”

“1 mean that l- have seen two, my lady, and
I know not which is my master.”

“ And didst than not call to them?”

“No, my lady. If it were my true master,
he hasa scurvy trick of beating one with a
lance-stair, as if ’twere a rush—and it hurts.”

“ But surely not, if thou dost not deserve it,
Babe.”

“ The master’s blow and the slave’s back do
not wait for desert, my lady. He strikes first
and pardons afterward.”

Zoraya here interrupted the conversation
with Panchita in her usual impetuous fashion.

“Where saw’at thou these two knights?
Were they together?” ' i

“ No, any lady. But they are by this time.”

“ Why? Speak quick!”

“Because they entered the valley next to
this, at opposite sides, and must havo met ere
this.” H

Both girls uttered a simultaneous cry of
alarm and Zoraya hurriedly exclaimed:

“ Lead on at once, slavel’

“ Where, my lady?” asked Babs inocently.

“Where they'are, fool; and be as quick as
thy life depended on it.” '

“No, my lady.”

And Baba coolly sat down on a rock as if he
were resolved.

“ Why not?" asked the lady in the imperi-
ous tones of one born in the purple.

"Becauseldonot wish tobe a carpet any
more.”

“ A carpet!” echoed Panchita.

“ A carpet, my lady. They beat the carpets
when they are dusty, and 1 am very dusty. "

“But they will not beat thee, if we are by
them.”
be“ 0, my lady, nor if they are too weak to
at.”

“ What means the slavef’ again interposed
Zoraya angrily.

“ I mean that they have been fighting, my
lad .” . .

“yYesi Where! How dost know!”

The questions came fast and eager from both
ladies.

“ Became I saw them in the next valley.
They had a thunderstorm, there, and not a
drop of rain camo outside the valley.

I sswthem both lying side by side as tho

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storm broke, and I suppose they are kowned
by this.”

Babe spoke with the utmost philosophy.’ It
was clear he won not attached to his master.

Zoraya had turned deadly pale as she lis-
teued to his calloust told story, and her eyes
had :1 tires glitter that boded no good to Baba,
had he only watched her.

She remained silent awhile, with closed lips,
watching him, and then turned to Panchita, to
whom she made a silent signal, which the other
understood. Both girls carried Moorish whips
as part of their equipments, come from the
Moors’ country, formidable scourgcs, loaded
with iron rings and beads, at intervals along
handle and lash. Gentle as was Panchita, she
was worked up at last, and she smiled an eager
assent to the other's unspoken proposition.

Zoraya now addressed the sulky Babe, who
was sitting on the rock the picture of careless
impudence.

“ Babe,” she said, “ show us the way to the
valley at. once.”

Her voice was clear and cold, so much so
that Babe looked up in surprise. Then he
grinned in contempt; for, though an errant
coward, he was as strong as a bell, and his
questioners were, after all, only two slender
girls.

“Give me your rings, and I may or may not
as I choose,” he replied.

Hardly were the words out of his mouth
when both girls uttered a simultaneous cry of
anger, rushed their horses at him and began to
lush him with all their might.

Up jumped Baba with a how] and grabbed
Panchita‘s bridle, only to let it go as he felt the
sting of Zorayn’s whip laid on With the strength
of an angry woman. He tried to catch the
Morisco lady, and the Christian lashed him
still harder, till the impudent vag-abond fairly
tied for his life, howling: ‘

“Mercy! mercy! This is the way.”

He ran on at full speed, hastened by the
whips whenever he felt disposed to lag, and
soon led them up a narrow cleft in the rocks,
just wide enough to go in single file, from
which they emerged on the steep sides of the
enchanted valley where the two knights had
fought so long. '

All the mirage was gone, and with it the
storm. A roaring torrent, about ten feet wide,
and brown with the washings of soil, had re-
placed the tiny thread of water, while the little

pool beside which the knights had fought was'

swollen into a brown and turbid pond.

Then Zoraya uttered a cry of alarm and
pointed down.

There, at the edge of the pool, half covered
with the water, lay the bodies of two armed
men, their horses standing near them, crop-
ping the short grass.

“ They are dead!” cried Panchita.
zomya, we are too late!"

»“ It is never too late. They may be only
wounded. Come quickly.”

Sm motioned to Babs. to go on, and the look
of her face was so menacing that, the burly
“ward obeyed with alacr'lty, for he had no
fancy to be beaten again, and above all things
Baba feared a beating. ,

They rode on down to the pool, where the
bodies still lay, and the stout Moor soon drag-
ged them out on the grass, already reviving
after the rain.

Then down sprung Zoraya to the ground and
examined them intently, while Panchita sat
rambling on her horse, afraid to follow her
example.

The Moorish girl, in common with most
women of her civilized and cultivated land,
had. some knowledge of medicine; and Pan-

“ on,

ehita was by no means unacquainted with the'

sight of wounds But noithor had ever been
oalled in to attend the hurt: of those to whom
they wereso closely bound, and both trembled
violently.

At last Zoraya looked up.

“ He is alive."

“ Which one?" whispered Panchih.

“Both. But that is all."

“ And which is Gonzalo, and which All
loaders?"

“I cannot tell, Panchita.”

Ald indeed it was a puzzle, as the hodieslay
to tell which was which. .

CHAPTER XXiY.

m BEACON rm.
Wm Pepito was ldt alone by his master,
with orders to follow Panchita, the worthy
squire ‘was muéh disgusted with his job. Not

 

being in love, and having a great fund of phi-
losophy, he had come to the comfortable con-
victicn that Panchite. would be sure to find his
master any way, and that he, Pepito, need,
not bother his head about the matter, one 'ay
or the other.

“ She’s in Spain and safe out of the hands of
the unbelievers," he said to himself; “there-
fore my master may find her for himself,
while I go into camp.” _ .

So saying, he began to hunt about for a
desirable spot to pass the night, found one,
picketed out therebber’s horse, which was well
loaded with booty,unsaddled, struck a light
with his flint and steel, and soon had a little
fire of brushwood burning, by which be cooked
his supper of ham and bread cakes, backed by
a bottle of good Catelonian wine.

“By my faith, Christian robbers live bet-
ter than Moorish kiaachefs," be reflected.
“All I got on the Moor’s saddle was barley
bread and dates, while the Christian has food
fit for a gentleman.”

His supper dispatched (not before he had
finished the bottle), Tepito went to sleep,
and did not waken till the heat of the sun
warned him that it was mid-forenoon.

Then he rose leisurely, secured his horse, a
stout, country-bred animal, ate the remains of
the food, reflecting all the while on the fore-
thought of the Christian robbers as compared
with the Moorish kiaschefs, and then, as delib-
erately as ever, saddled up, mounted and rode
of! into the mountains.

“ And where shall I go now?" quoth Pepito
to himself.

In truth, be felt undecided and quite care.
less. He knew that he was in a part of the
mountains not vcry far from the place where
stood the castle of Lara, and he had a shrewd
idea that he should find his master somewhere
near home.

But, shrewd as was Pepito, ho had made one
important mistake. He did not know that he
had changed mastersa second time at Cordova,
and was now serving Ali Moudara, instead of
Gonmlo Gonzales. The knight himself was
aware of the deception, and took care todo
nothing to rouse his squire’s suspicions this
time, ever since he had been dismissed so
unceremoniously by Ali’s adopted father, Al
Mansour.

Chance had brought him to Cordova by way
of Medina Al Zohra, while Gonzalo was still
hidden in the harem, and tho positiveness of
the kiuschefs had completed the loss of his
identity, a secret he was too proud to disclose
to Al Mausour. The fact that he was des-
perately in love with Panchita made him the
less reluctant to obey Al Mausour’s stern order
toreturn to Castile; and the'only person to
whom he had confided his secret on the way
was Yakoub Humet‘, the captain of the guard,
who had kcpt it religiously, with all an Arab’s
love of romance and adventure, and had al~
lowed Ali to visit his own castle in the light
of a prisoner. Here he discovered the previous
visit of Gonzalo and his abstraction of two out
of several suits of‘ armor, uniform in color,
which had been a present in tribute to Al
Mansour from the king of Leon; and it was this
discovery that induced'Ali to assume the same
disguise and deliberately confuse his identity
with that of Gonzalo in Castile.

Of all this by-play Pepito knew nothing,
keen though be imagined himself, and it was
with perfect conviction that he should find. his
master at home in Lara that the squire took a
path leading in that direction.

He rode on for several hours, out of one
valley and into another, till he had attained a
high point in the ridge, from which be com,-
manded a view of the plain of Toledo on one
side and the table-land of Castile on the other.

His first look was naturally to the north.
where he soon distinguished the white spot on
the landscape made by the towers of Lara.
As soon as he had gazed his fill there, he turned
to look at the MOOrish plains; and hardly had
he done so than he gave a cry of astonishment
and positive dismay.

The long road from Toledo to the Almoga-
vars’ Pass was hidden by a cloud of white dust,
through which glittered and sparkled innumer-
able pcints of light, oonstantly knitting their
position. -

Pepito know too well what this portended.
He had seen it many and many a time.

That dust and glitter marked a Moorish
army on the march; and its great' length
showed that a most formidable raid was on
foot, such as the great A] Mansour had made

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more than once before, harrying the Christians
from Sierra tothe Bay of Biscay. '

Already the head of the vast array had .
reached the Pass of Almogavars, and the dost
rolled up like a. cloud of smoke into the mann-
tains.

Pepito looked but a little while, and then he
made up his mind what to do. The squire
became the cool and oollected soldier, resolute
on warning his country in time. He knew
that the principal peaks of the Sierra Were
provided with great piles of wood, saturated
with tar, and covered in from the rain by rude
roofs of bark, so that they could be lighted at
any time.

In periods of war these beacons were always
provided with paid watchmen, but the trace
with the Moors having only recently been con-
cluded, Pepito knew that the piles were then
left unwatched.

“There is one on Monte del Matador,” he
thought; “ and I can get there in an hour and
light it, so as to give the alarm before they I
have reached the W'izard’s Castle. Even Vel-
asquez is a Christian, and should not be taken
unawares.”

No sooner had be taken this resolve than the
stout squire rode off as fast as he could urge
his coarsely-bred charger to reach Monte del
Matador (Murderers Hill) before the Moors
should have got too far into the unguarded
passes. ,

It was more than an hour, however, boforo .
he came to the foot of the peak; and, when he:
did so, he saw to his surprise another man,
dressed in white armor and mounted on a.
white horse, coming round the base of the
peak from the other side. '

A glance revealed this to Pepito, and ho h-‘
stantly drew his horse behind a rock, over the
top of which he peeped. The stranger had not'
seen him.

At first sight, armor and horse made Pepito
think .he had found his own master, but a
second glimpse displayed in the stranger a bulk
and rotundity very different from the elegant v
contour of his chief.

The new-comer'e horse was a beautiful Barb
of very light gray, that seemed unsuited to the
weight of its rider and yet stepped out as
gayly as if carrying a boy, with the indomita— .

his courage of its race and country. ' _ “

The stranger’s armor was like Pepito’s own
mail and his visor was up, displaying a shin.
ning black face, round and unctuous, albeit
wearlng a most piteous expression. .

Pepito remembered it in an instant as tho
face of the old chief eunuch of the Caliph’s '
harem, who had assisted them to escape and

 

 

become so drunk himself in the doing of it that ' ' I,

Pepiio had carried him on! across his own
donkey like a sack of flour balanced at both ’
ends

Remembering further that he wasa Moor,
the squire waited ti‘J old Mouaa had got

abreast of the rock, when he suddenly dashed "._
out, caught the old fellow around the neck by ,

surprise, and, in a truce had him toppled out .Y 

of his saddle and was leading off the white
Barb in triumph.

As for Mouse, he not only made no resist- 

ance, but he screamed out with fear as he was ‘

falling, and lay there on the grOund shrieking, 

for help, for all the world like a woman as—_
saulted in a street. - . ‘
Pepito laughed heartin when he heard the
old negro call for help.
“Why, Mouse, old fool,” he cried, cheor-- '

fully; “we are not in Gordon any more. I k

This is a Christian country and there} are none

to helpan old unbeliever like thee. I wantthy, : “1'
horse and have but borrowsd it till I get f

.‘gl
'n
U.

change." ‘ 

to Lara. Thou canst take this old camel in.‘
So saying, he vaulted out of one saddle into

the other,and turned the-robber’s chargor loose . ,- 

.1
W ’

while old Mouse slowly rose up and surveyed
him ruefully. , ~
A gleam of recognition cameinto the negro’s‘ ',

white-rolling eyes. , . ..

“You are the Christian squire that was
taken by the ln'aechefsi" asked he.

.y.

  
  
 
  
   
       
    
      
  
 

,h

“The came, together with my master. Bow ‘_  

com’et than here, Mouse?”

“was thy master, bad luck to him for a 

Christian dare-devil, that deserts his ladyto
run after phantoms.”

“ My master! Thou mistok’st.
is Don Gonzalo Gonnalee.”

“Tint is the name, of the madman u

ran away with my mm the Prinoear " ._ 

Zoraya." .

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“ What!
Mensa!”

“ Ay, of course, and with thy master. "v

“Nay, I’ll swsar that—”

Pepito stopped suddenly and smote his thigh
with an oath of surprise.

“By the bones of St. lago, it must be the
other again i”

-‘ What other?” asked Mouse.

Pepito made no answer, for at that moment
he happened to look toward the Pass of the
Almogavars, and saw that the dust had passed
far beyond it.

“I’ve no time to lose. Wait till I come
back,” he ejaculated hurriedly, and then
spurred his horse up to the beacon-pile, and in
a few minutes had it lighted and sending a
dense black column of smoke up into the blue
sky.

He remained by the pile watching for a few
minutes, and had the satisfaction of seeing the
first answering smoke from the fortress of
Lara.

“ They are not asleep there,” he muttered,
and immediately rode back to Mouse, whom
he found sitting disconsolately on the ground.

“ Now, Mouse," he said briskly, “ if the
Moors please thee, yonder they are. Go to
them.”

He pointed to the distant dust, but old Mousa
shook his head.

“I dare not till I have found my lady. I
lost her last night, and have wandered alone
ever since.” 2

“Then come with me to the castle of Lara,
and I‘ll wager we’ll hear of her there, for the
Count of Lara is Don Gonzalo’s father."

Old Mousa rose dejectedly and followed the
squire, for the fact was that the executioner
was as much of a coward as Baba Moustafa,
and felt completely demoralized.

Pepito led the way at a rapid pace through
the hills toward Lara, and emerged near sunset
in the enchanted valley, where he was amazed
to find the table In of wounded knights, weep-
ing ladies, and his own double, Baba Moustafa,
all waiting and praying for the help his energy
soon rendered.

CHAPTER XXV.
THE wouxnun xxxon'rs.

Tm: quiet and monotonous routine of the
Castle of Lara was broken up in a whirl of ex-
oitement during the next few days. The
Moors had come into Castile; committing, for
a wonder, no depredations, but picketing the
horses of their outposts all round the moun-
tain passes in view of the castle; while the

Did the princes getoff after all,

 

' household was still electrified over the arrival

of the two desperately wounded knights with
their ladies, the old negro and Pepito’s double,

vBaba Moustafa.

'There was no confusion between the squire

, and his Moslem half-brother, on account of the

diflerence of their dress; but even the Count
and Countess of Lara seemed quite uncertain
which bf the wounded men was their son, so

" long as they lay senseless or delirious, which

was for several days.

There was no way to tell them apart, either
in size, color of hair, features, or marks of
any kind, saving only their wounds, which
One had a stab in the

the other had received the spiked head of a
'mace on his thigh, cutting fearful coutused
gushes. ~,Both were bruised and battered about

,. the head, and each had lost a great deal of
blood

Grant was the excitement and wonder in the
,castle, and many were the conjectures of the
inmates. Who could it be that was so like
their young master, and which was the real
Gonzalo?

The old munt himself was as much puzzled
as any one, and the oldest retainers in the
castle could give no explanatio

In the case of Pepito and h: double, Babs
Moustafa, the case was diflerent, inasmuch as
it was well known that old Nuno Salido. doc-
tor of alchemy, and tutor in former times
to the dead brothers of Lara, had had two
wives, one in Cordova, the other in Castile,
Cadijah the slavo girl and Aldonza the pea-
sant. \

These two hall-brothers, while alike in fea-
ture and form, were different in disposition,
Baba inheriting the vices and virtues of

' slavery, while Pepito was free-born. One was

a merry, deceitful, tricky, cowardly scamp, a
regular slave, with no thought beyond present
safety; the other was a keen, dry, caustic sol-

dier, faithful to the death, but despising senti-
mentality. '

After their first meeting, all of Pepito’s
. angyr vanished. It was impossible to be angry

long with the merry rascal Babe, and he was

below contempt asa fee; besides which. Pepito

recognized the ties of kinship when he learned
. that Baba was indeed his brother.
l " But these, our masters, cannot be brothers,
: Babe," observed the squire, as they chatted
i over matters in the hall of Lara. “All the
I count’s sons were killed twenty years ago, and
he has never had but one since.”

Baba winked at Pepito.

“None that folks know of. But how is it
about the Lady Ayesha, of whom people here
tell me? She was much with the count while
he was a captive, and followed him for love.”

Pepito colored up angrily.

“ Hark ye, brother, I was a boy when that
sweet lady came hither, and know for a surety
she was pure as an angel. Our Lady Sancha
would have found out if she had not been.
Whatever else is this knight, he is not her
son."

“ Then who is he, in the name of Allah?”

“ Ah,‘that indeed, brother. No one knows
yet. ”

N 0 one seemed to know.

Not even the count, who stood by the great
statebed whereon were laid the two wounded
youths, pallid, insensible, sleeping heavily side
by side.

The old warrior was tugging nervously at
his beard as he looked down, and muttered
ever and anon:

“How"‘can this be?
Which is mine?

The twu ladies, who ofiiciated as nurses,
seemed to be less disturbed in mind, attending
impartially to the patients when either awoke
for awhile from his feverish sleep, and leaving
it to their moments of returning consciousness
to decide which were their individual lovers.

Still more complacent, and wearing a brow
totally unruffied for the first time in twenty
years, was the venerable Countess of Lara, who
was always gliding in and out of the room, as
if only for the pleasure of looking at the
strange picture.

“They will not die,” she said frequently in
tones of great confidence. . “God has heard my
prayer.”

But she would not explain what she meant,
merely repeating:

“ Wait till they wake.
all.”

In the mean time the garrison of the castle
was accumulating food and warlike stores, ex-
pecting a siege, and the men of Castile were
mustering far and near under the banners of
the King of Leon, to repel the expected raid
of MManmur’s warriors.

Panchita’s father had been heard from, and
had sent an escort to '. isit the castle and bring
back his daughter, who, however, declined to
go home.

As soon as the cavalier in charge had heard
her story, he decided in the true chivalric
spirit that the honor of the lady was safe in the
hands of the house of Lara, and went back to
tell the Prince of the Asturias how Don Gou—
zalo Gonzales had rescued the princess from the
power of the Moors and was worthy of her
hand. He had not been able to separate the
identity of the two knights, and had heard
nothing of Ali Moudara.

And new news began, to come in from the
surrounding country of the doings of the
Moors. They were encamped in the valley of
Don Buy Velasquez, and had sent an embassy
to Burgos, with a demand of some sort that
was variously stated by Dame Rumor.

Some said it was for a part of the Maiden
Tribute that was missing, others that it was for
compensation for some insult alleged to have
been offered to Al Mansour, but all agreed that
the Moors wore awaiting the return of the em~
bassy before commencing hostilities, and all
were burning with anxiety as to the result of
the negotiations. '

Day after day passed by, and the fever of
their wounds at last left the wounded many
who awoke within a few minutes of each other
and looked curiously around them. ,

The count and countess, with Panchita, Zo-
rays and the old seneschal and his wife. were
gathered anxiously round the bed, when the
first invalid roused up and looked curiously at
them.

For awhile he said nothing, and then asked,

I have not two sons?

We shall soon know

 

. in a faint voice:

I

 

“ What is this? Where is she?”

The countess glided forward and looked at
him with her faded eyes in a gaze of yearning
tenderness:

“ Dost thou not know thy mother, my boy?"
she asked, softy.

The wounded man smiled faintly.

“ I do not know, madam. I would I had a
mother like you, but the Lady Zeinab told me
I was an orphan."

Here the other, roused by the voices, woke
in his turn, looked at the countess and whis-
pered:

“Mother, it is Gonzalo. I have won my
spurs fairly.”

The suspense was removed.

Zoraya moved quickly to the side on which
Gonzalo lay, and asked:

“ Who am I, then?”

“Thou art my sovereign lady and mistress,
Zoraya, Star of Cordova,” answered be,
promptly. “ Mother, I have gained the sweet-
est lady in the world for thy daughter."

But still the mother hesitated, and her eyes
were fixed yearnineg on Ali Moudara, to
whose side I’nnchita had moved as soon as he
first spoke aloud. ‘

The Moorish cavalier lay staring intently at
the countess, heedless of the presence of Pan-
cliita, who was softly kissing and crying over
his thin and wasted hand. .

“ Who, in Allah’s great name, art thou, lady ?”
he asked, wonderingly, and a dead silence came
over the room to hear the answer.

Even Gonzalo, attracted by the sudden still-
ness, turned his head round and looked with
amazement on this other, who was a Moor to
all seeming, and yet his very image. But ere
the countess could answer, came a loud uproar
from the castle without, confused shouts and
cries, the rattle of arms, the blare of trumpets
and the sharp clash of cymbals, the deep roll-
ing of the Moorish kettle-drums, and the thun-
der of thousands of horse-boots.

Then they heard the loud shouts, all in uni-
son, of a cheering crowd, and a battery of im~
patient knocks sounded on the door, while a
voice cried out.

“Senor Conde of Lara, the Moorish and
Christian embassies have come to the castle and
demand admittance. Shall we let them in?”

Frowning impatiently, the old count hurried
to the door.

“ I am busy.
Who has come?”

“The King of Leon, the Count of Castile and
the great Al Mansour himself are here,” an-
swered the warder, hurriedly. “ They demand
the Princess Zoraya, daughter of the Caliph,
and one Ali Moudara, the Lion of the Rock,
whom they swear are held prisoners in this
castle ”

" Let them in,” replied the old noble, instant-
ly. “They shall see for themselves if we have
prisoners here. New, by my faith, I am glad
they are come. Go to the hall, and I'M“ fol~
10“.'), “

Away went the warder as hard as he could
run, and in a short time the halls of Lara were
filled with a brilliant assembly of Christians
and Moors, while the old count welcomed with
stately courtesy his imposing guests, who were
scon seated at the head of the long table. The
first words were spoken by King Bermudo, of
Leon, a large, fair-haired. Gothic knight, who
looked like a giant beside the slender old Vizier,
but who was in reality his plaything in war
and politics.

“Well. count,” he cried, in his jolly tones,
“my lord the hajib” (Arab title for Vizier,
which is Turkish) “ says that you have stolen
the Princess of Cordova and Ali Moudara.
How say you? Are they here?”

J‘The Princess Zoraya is here. She came
with my 'son, Gonzalo Gonzales, whom she aid-
ed to esoape from Cordova. They love each
other, sire, and wish to be wedded.”

Al Mansour said not a word, but stroked his
beard and looked keenly on.

“ But reflect that she is the daughter of the
Caliph, count. I cannot go to war to please a
love sick pair.”

Al Mansour waved his hand.

“Let it be as Lara has said. But where is
my son, Ali Moudara?”

“There is one here who is said to bear that
name-" began the count, but the Vizier cut
him short abruptly.

“ Wilt thou 'give him up?”

“ No,” said a clear voice behind the count,
and the Countess Sancho. swept forward. “I
will not give him up to the Moor.”

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Al Mansour's eyes glittered.

“ Why not, woman?"

“Because he is my son,” was the unexpected
answer, and Sancha of Lara looked proudly in
ihe old Moor’s face.

CHAPTER XXVI.
rm: JUDGMENT or AL msona.

A 10'me of incredulity ran through the
ball as the venerable countess made her start-
ling assertion, and the Count of Lara himself
cried out amazedly:

“ Thy son, Sancha!

 

Ours 5’”

“As the sun shines, my husband, thou art '

his father and I am his mother.”

The old man was so much overcome by the
news that he could only falter out the words:

"Our son! Our son!”

"Our son indeed, stolen by the savage
Moors of Al Mansour, in the very moment his
twin brother was born." .

The only person in the hall to whom the
news seemed to be no surprise was the great
Moor, Al Mansour. He eyed Sancha as keenly
as ever, and began to stroke his beard, mutter-
ing:

“ Meer Haroun did not deceive me. He
said he took the child from the mother’s bed.”

But the curiosity of every one else was at
fever heat, and the Count of Lara cried out
impatiently:

“ Go on, Sanchal Go on!
toldst me a word of this.”

The countess smiled tenderly on her old

ner.

“Why should two be sad, if one can bear it
alone? I, alone with Aldonza Salido, knew the
truth. .Why should I have tortured thee, my
good lord?”

“But, sweetest lady,” interrupted King
Bermudo courteously;” we are all dying to
hear the truth of this strange history. Tell us
we beseech you.”

“Thus then it came to pass, my lord. The
count my husband was away at the wars, and
I was sick in my chamber, when the Moors at-
tacked our castle by surprise. We had no
watchman in those days. My son was born
even while they battered at the gates, and I
was alone with poor Aldonza (since dead) when
they burst into my chamber and began to fire
the castle. One of them, a gray-bearded man
that seemed to be a chief, snatched the child
from the bed where he lay by me, and cried to
his men: ‘ fire the castle! This child at least
shall be a true believer.’ Then be rushed out,
and we heard shouts and b10ws; while I, near-
ly mad with grief; felt the pangs that told me
I had another child left.”

“Holy 8t. Iago!” ejaculated the king, ad-
miringly. “What aheroine! ’Twould have
killed most women.”

“ We women of Castile are hard to kill, sire.
Even while I lay there, deserted by all but
Aldonza, my lord count arrived by chance,
took the Moors in rear, drove them away, and
came in to save me and welcome him he
thought to be his only son."

The old count tottered over to his aged wife
and embraced her with great tenderness, mur-
muring: '

“ y Sanchal All these years!”

“Ay, my lord, all these years, I hid it from
thee; for why should I have saddened thee
more? Seven noble sons have we lost by the
Moor, and this one thou badst not even seen.
I bore my sorrow alone, but it was none the
less keen. Many a night have I lain awake,
thinking of that tender babe in the power 01
the Infidels, and wondering where he wee,
whether alive or dead. How often I have
prayed God to let me see him are I died, if in-
deed he were not already dead. And God has
heard my prayer at last.”

The old Moor’s face during this recital had
been hard and stern, fixed in inscrutable pur-

Thou never

pose.

When the countess had finished he asked,
sharply:

“How knowest thou, granting all this, that
Ali Moudara is thy son!”

“13 be yours, my lord?" asked the lady,
with quiet directneu,

Al Mansour’s color rose and he bit his lip.
To be childless was the one drop of bitterness
in the cup of the great conqueror.

“ Ask me no questions, woman. I have
adopted this boy; brought him up as my son;
made him a prince among princes. Should he
not be mine? He loves the orange groves and
palms of the South. Why should he be tied up
like a mule in a stable in these bars balls,

I where beauty is a thing unknown? My son

came hither against my will.”
“Nay, my lord, I’ll swear I heard your
4 worship tell him to go,” broke in Pepito, quite
unceremoniously; for the bluff squire and Baba
were standing near by and heard all that
; passed.

Al Mansour turned his most freezing gaze on
the audacious squire; but without the slightest
effect; and the stern Vizier’s face relaxed into
I a grim smile as Pepito went on:

' “ Your worship insisted that he was Don
i Gonzalo, my master, and, in good faith you
drove him out.”

“ But I mistook him for Don Gonzalo,
friend,” answered Al Mansour in a tone full of
gentleness, acquired under the tuition of the
Koran, which holds all believers to be equal
before God.

“Then, if my lord did not know him, who
shall say he is my lord’s son?”

This time Al Mansour laughed a short grim
laugh.

“Thou art witty, Baba Moustafa.
that with thee?”

“ Marry, sir, that is my brother Baba Mous-
tafa, the son of my father—rest his soul—and
I, if your worship will allow me, am Pepito.”

The Vizier scanned the two brothers closely.
They Were now both dressed exactly alike,
and it was difficult to tell which was the slave,
except from Pepito’s words.

“Go into that crowd,” said Al Mansour;
“ hide yourselves, and then come back and
stand before me again silently. I would see if
I can tell you apart.”

The brothers obeyed, and there was a dead
silence in the hall as they came back and stood
before the old minister. Al Mansour put out
his finger at one.

“ Tho art Pepito, the freeman.
slave by his downcast looks.”

The man addressed giggled like a foolish
child and retorted:

“My lord has guessed wrong.
Moustafa.”

“Repeat the fatiha,” snapped out Al Man-
sour irritably.

His mood changed to triumph in a moment,
when the man he had not addressed glibly re-
peated the Arabic formula of faith, while he
who had claimed to be Baba stood looking
foolish. The Vizier smiled with much satis-
faction at the results of his penetration.

“ Thou seest it is only fools that read by the
outside, while -the windows of the soul are
open for a wise man’s vision to look through.
Stand aside, Pepito.”

No one in the hall interfered with the great
Moorish minister while he spoke. He seemed,
in that Christian land, to be regarded with as
much awe and respect aswhen he sat on his
own judgment seat at Cordova, the fact that a
vast array of Moorish cavalry was waiting
within call had a restraining effect on the
most bigoted of the Christian cavaliers who
might have wished to dispute his authority.

Now he turned on the Countess of Lara in
the same grave and collected manner he al-
ways affected.

“Ali Moudara is thy son. I knew it long
ago, but did not know that the other was born.
Wilt thou let him come back to me if he will,
lady? I can give him more than he can find
in Castile. I have no child to solace my old
age, and I love Ali as if he were my own son.”

Now the countess began to tremble.

“Oh, my lord,” she said, piteously. “do not
rob me of him a second time. Think that he
hardly knows me yet. You have power and
riches, and we have only our two sons now
The enemy has taken all the rest but a few
sheep.” ‘

“ Then you will not let your son he a prince
by adoption?” asked Al Mansour, unrumed.
“ You prefer to sacrifice his future to your
own selfishness?”

Sancha of Lara clasped her hands.

“ Ah, do not speak like that, my lord. I
know not what to do, I love him so, now that
I have found him at last.”

“Do you refuse to let him come tome?”
pursued the Vizier, steadily. “ Reflect and
answer."

“Oh, my lord, I refuse nothing. I only
entrant. Let him love me. Give me a little
time, ere I lose him again, to hear him call me
mother.” . I '

The old Moor contracted his heavy brows
and looked at her steadily for some seconds are
he replied, which he did by an abrupt change
of the subject.

 

Who is

I know the

I am Baba

 

 

“Where is the princess, Zoraya? one of
thy sons stole her away, and the Caliph has
ordered me to kill every man, woman and
child in Castile if she be not given up to us at
once.”

It was the count’s turn to answer.

“The Lady Zoraya is here. She came of
her own free will, and has been treatedasa
princess all the time she was here.”

“ Let her come, then,” retorted Al Mansour,
gruflly. “I would see her at once.”

The count looked uneasily at the King of
Leon, but Bermudo gave him an impatient
signal to obey, and he left the hall to fetch
Zoraya.

While he was gone a dead silence prevailed,
for the inscrutable face of the Vizier was de-
cidedly not an invitation to conversation, and
all the Christians were decidedly uneasy at the
prospect of war threatened by the mad vaga-
ries of a romantic knight-errant. ,

Presently there was a stir in the hall, and
old Mousa, fully dressed in the stately robes of
his office as Chief Eunuch of the Palace of Al
Zohra, strode into the hall with his keen saber
drawn and stretched out before him to clear a
way. as he called out in his cracked voice:

“ Room for Sitt Zoraya! Room!”

Al Mansour turned his head sharply and
watched the old negro with a fierce and
threatening eye, which Mouse pretended not
to notice, but under which he secretly quailed.

And then all attention was turned on the
Princess Zoraya who entered the room closely
vailed and accompanied by Panchita, whose
face was visible.

Al Mansour smiled grimly as he surveyed
the couple but he said not a word till they
both stood before him. King Berniudo in the
spirit of chivalry jumped up to offer his seat,
but the old Moor waved him back and allowed
the girls to stand in true Oriental subservience
ere he spoke sarcastically:

"So this is the Star of Cordova, fled to the -

Christians with a strange man.” 7

“Not so, my lord,” answered Zoraya, with
spirit, “ but the daughter of thy master under
the care of the chief of the Harem Guard. I

have been traveling to see the world as a prin- .

case should."

“ And do the savage wilds of Castile please
the princess better than the gardens of Cor.
dove?” asked the old minister in the same
ironical tone of courtesy.

“ I can answer that question to my father,”
was the proud reply. “ The princesses of our
line do not stand to be judged by their-sub-
jects. Be pleased to rise, my lord, while I'
take my seat.”

The old Vizier looked at her from under his
bushy br0ws with grave amusement, but did
not ofler to stir as he answered in the senten-
tious style of the Moors.”

“ Kings and queens are made by men, but
fathers are of the ordering of God. I repre-
sent thy father here, disobedient child. Be.

hold his signet ring. Art thou ready to return g

to Cordova or must the guards force thee?”

Zoraya stamped her little foot as if she were
angrv.

“ Where is my litter? Where are the guards? -
Is this the attendance for the Caliph’s daugh-
tar?”

Al Mansour exerted his voice as loud as her
own crying in affected anger:

“What ho! ye dogs outside there! The lit-
ters for the ladies at once and the guards.
Will ye keep us all night?”

There was a bustle at the door and four
gorgeous litters borne by black slaVes were
brought into the ball as fast as the bearers
could trot, while Al Mansour waved his hand
as if dismissing an audience.

“Place the ladies there and bring down the
prisoners at once.”

Then there was a start of surprise and dis-
may, while the count and countess ran to Al
Mansour, asking both together:

“What prisoners? Whom mean ye?"

“I mean your two sons and this lady Pan- I '

chita,” answered the Moor, sternly. “Ali
Mandate thou hast allowed me, and the other
son is a prisoner. He hath stolen the Caliph’s
daughter and must be judged therefor in Cor-
dova. This other lady was stolen from tin
Maiden Tribute, and belongs to the harem of
the Commander of the Faithful. Resistance
is useless. Ask your liege lord if it be not."

Pale as death, the old people turned to King
Bermuda for help, only to be met by a polite
shrug.

“What can I do! A treaty is a treaty, and

 

 

 

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our son broke, it. They say he attacked the

aiden Tribute, slew Aben Amar and carried
03 the ladies We cannot fight in such a bad
cause. I am sorry for thy loss, count, but—”

The old nobleman and his wife were so
much stupcfied with grief and amazement that
they could make neither complaint nor resist-
ance, but stood gazing in dumb grief while the
crowds of Moors filled the hall and castle, car-
ried the splendid litters upstairs, and present-
ly returned with the two wounded men, who
were carried away before their parents’ eyes
as the latter stood helplessly by.

Not till the last litter had gone did Al Mau-
sour make any remark. Then he rose from
the carpet on which he had been sitting cross-
legged all this time, and swept over to the
count and countess.

“The mercy of Allah is as great as his jus-
l tice,” observed the old Moor, in his significant

and senteutious way. “The thief stole a loaf
when he was starving, and the cadi gave him
 the stick first and a purse of gold after. Come
'   to Cordon: after the Ramadan, and ye shall be
" all welcome. Pass by the valley of Velasquez,
and ye shall see a ruin. The devil stole all the
» virtues from man except hope. Truat in God,
' and peace be with you.”
. ‘ He swept out of the hall, followed by his
 ‘ retinue, and King Bermudo was not long in
' “ " imitating his example.
The Christian nobles were anxious to escape
the sight of a grief they could not alleviate,
‘ and the poor old count and countess found
themselves within an hour after deserted by all
. but their own retainers, while the whole conn«
, try was covered with the tracks of the retreat-
“  ing host of Moors, who had gone as they came,
 threatening but not destroying.
 g The aged couple Were entirely prostrated by
, ;, ' . grief at first, and took no sense from the part-
7 ’ ‘ing words of Al Mansour till a shepherd
brought them in news that recalled them to
4 I 'llind. ‘
.5 ' . I The man had roamed with his flock as far as
  the valley where stood the Wizard’s Castle,
é. " and had seen with amazement that the fortress
had vanished, to be replaced by a blackened
; x * pile of ruins. A
Then they remembered what the Moorish
Vizier had said to them as he went away:
“ Pass by the valley of Velast and ye shall
I see a ruin.”
'« The count clasped his hande’ in wonder as he
, ' heard: _
. d  " God has avenged us at last by the hand of
3 3, * the Moor. Ruy Velasquez is punished. But

5' what else did the hajt'b say, Sancha. Think
A 'and remember. Thy head is better than
'i'  ' mine.”

"‘He said” replied Sancha musingly, as if
trying to recall the words: ‘

“ ‘ Come to (Jordana after the Ramadan and
ye shall all be welcome. ant in God, and
Peace be with you.‘ ”

g  “And it is three months yet to the end of
‘ the Ramadan,” sighed the count. “Sancha,
there is hope in his words. He cannot have

If ‘ mgr. 
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the heart to kill our boys. Let us wait and
a? how.” '
W‘ W - CHAPTER XXVII.
a. .
CONCLUSION.
is. '” W. Tar: fast of the Ramadan was over and the
ii ~dty of Cordova was bright with gorgeous
V hangings and garlands of flowers for the open-
 ! ing of the great feast of Beiram, when the
é  Hoslem world makes amends to itself for the
‘ "“  enforced abstinence of the Ramadan.

The people were all Igog for the public
games that Al Munsour had announced to take
place in the plain betwcen Cordova and Al
Zebra, where the cavaliers were to play jereed,
. , , fight with wild beasts as in the Roman circus,

. " run races and give exhibitions of prowess with
3  . » various weapons.

~' " ‘ The success of this festival was further as-

sured by the presence of several visiting Chris-
,tian princes, who were received with true
Arab hospitality by the Vizier, and royally
.l lodged in the palace at Cordova.

 W  ‘ , King Bermndo of Leon wast here, with
 ‘ ‘ Buy Fernandez, Count of Castile, Hernan

" . j leenes, Prince of the Asturias, and a crowd
. ‘ , of high-born nobles, among whom the aged
' Count and Countess of hrs, in their plain

.. equipage, seemed lost.
,Nevertheleea, it was to this very couple,
ahaply equipped as they were, that the great
- Viuier assigned the most splendid lodgings of
‘ all, along with the Prince of the Asturias, and

 

from the moment of their arrival theywere

loaded, after the
presents.

Count Gonzalo was much cast down by the
long, period which had elapsed since he had
seen or heard from his sons, and he had a com-
panion in misery in the old Prince of the
Asturias, who was equally inconsolable for the
loss of his daughter Panchita. ‘

The only person of the trio who seemed calm
and hopeful was Sancha, and the venerable
countess was constantly telling her husband
that all would yet be well. The Prince of the
Asturias she consoled in this wise:

“My lord did not see the Princess Zoraya,
or he would have no fears. She is the only
person that dare cross the will of Al Mansonr,
and she will not let the Princess Panchita
come to harm. Trust in God, my lord, and all
will yet be well. I feel sure of it.”

They were royally entertained by Al Man-
sour’s orders for three days, but in all that
time had not so much as men the great minis-
ter, save from afar, and he seemed purposely
to avoid a personal interview with the three
people he had treated with so much seeming
rigor.

' 0n the third day they received news that
they were invited to witness the games in the
plain beginning at daybreak, so as to conclude
before the great heats came on. The same
evening they were bidden to a great feast at
Medina Al Zohra, the matchless palace of the
Caliph Haschem, of which they had heard so
many wonders, though no Christian had been as
yet admitted to its walls. Gorgebus litters were
sent to the palace for their accommodation,
and it was with a great fluttering of heart
that the much suffering Count and Countess of
Lara found themselves at last within its walls.

They had assumed the splendid dresses sent
them by the muniflcent Caliph through his
minister, and were ushered into‘ the grand
banquet hall with its five hundred marble
columns and vaulting inlaid with mosaic of
various colors enriched with gold. To their
surprise none but slaves were waiting to receive
them, and they had all taken their places on
the divans by the low tables-before the sound
of music announced the approach of the
Caliph‘ precoded by the great Prime Minister.

Haschem, a handsome but effeminate-looking
Arab of the old Saracen stock, was magnifi-
cently attired, jewels flashing from every hem
in his robes, and attended by a numerous
retinue of black slaves. The Vizler, in a plain
robe of white silk with a green cloak and tar-
ban, presented a'grave contrast to all the mag-
nificence around him, and yet it was to him
that every one looked for orders, and be it was
who spoke the words of welcome to the guests
in the name of his nominal master. The Caliph,
on his part, took his seat in silence after a
slight inclination to his guests, and appeared
to be waiting for the Vizier to do the honors of
the place.

Anxious as were the Count and Countess of
Lara, they did not dare to ask of Al Mansour
the questions they longed to utter, for there
was a ceremonious reserve in the Vizier’s man-
ner that precluded a nearer approach. It Was

Moorish " fashion, with

- not till the feast was over,‘aud the dancing

girls had finished their performanccs, that Al
Mansour gave a signal to the captain of the
guards and addressed the guests collectively as
soon as the official had left the hall.

“ My noble lords and princes,” began Al
Mansour, “it has come to the knowledge of my
gracious master that one of our guests here,
the Count of Lara, has suffered grave injustice
at our hands, all unwittingly and through the
evil deeds and falsehoods of a Christian knight,
Don Buy Velasquez, who married Lambra, of
Castile. My lords of Castile, you know the
lady."

The Count of Castile bent his head.

“ I do, to my sorrow. She hath --”

“Paid the penalty of an evil life by death at
the hands of Heaven,” interposed Al Mansout‘;
solemnly. “ The lightning struck her castle
and set it on flre, with the same bolt that struck
her dead, on the day our armies entered Cas-
tile to reclaim the stolen princess. ’Twas the
same storm, my Lord of Lara, in which your
two sons fought till they nearly slew each
other.”

Sascha, of Lara, heaved a deep sigh of relief
from suspense, and the count exclaimed:

“Noble Al Mansour, we thought the Moors
had done that."

“Not a blow was struck by our soldiers. We
came for-justice, and that obtained, we came

 

 

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backLwith our prisoners Behold the guiltiest
of al .

As he spoke, the captain of the guards re-en-
tered the room, followed by Ray Velasquea.
fully armed, his face set in a look of fierce de—
fiance.

“There is thine ancient foe, Count of Lara,
the man who forged my name to the order of

execution for thy seven seas. Dost thou gin-g

peach him?"

“How can an old man like me do uught
against him?” demanded the old man in a
querulous tone. “Give me back my noble
sons, and we will take order with this villain. "

They are here," answered the Vizier, quietly.

He clapped his hands, and instantly into the
room stalked the twins of Lara, all>in white
armor, and so strangely alike that none could
tell them apart.

There was a murmur of admiration through
the hall as these grandly beautiful knights ad-
vanced. Ruy Velasquez turned pale and
stared wildly at them as if he doubted his
eyes, but the parents forgot all ceremony and
ran to embrace their sons, overjoyed to see
them alive and safe at last.

“It is all right, mother,” whispered one
of them. “I was Ali Moudara, but I am
Fernan Gonzales, and we shall all be happy.
God bless the good hqjib.” ‘

Al Mansour looked on with a smile, and then
asked aloud:

“ Well, my lord, do you impeach Buy
Velasquez.” ~

The old count turned round with swimming
eyes.

“ Not now; not now. I have my sons again
and the rest are in heaven. Leave him to God,
great Al Mansour. He is punished by seeing
as happy.”

A) Mansour nodded his head.

“Thou speaketh like a wise man. Vengeance
is for Allah. Nevertheless, justice is for the
king as the deputy of Allah on earth. Who
will punish this man for forging my name and
making Al Mnnsour unjust?”

The late Ali Moudara stepped forward and
bowed low. '

“ That is my place, my second father. Trust
me to punish him tomorrow.”

“ I will,” replied Al Mansour, gravely. “ See
that he escapes not.”

He gave another signal, and Buy Velasquez,
who had not said a word all this time, but had
stopd looking sullen and defiant was led out of
the‘hall by the guards.

Then Al Mansour began to smile again as he
turned to the old Prince of the Asturias.

“Has my lord lost any one he would wish
to see again!" he aiked.

“ You know well I have,” was the anxious
reply. ’ “ Torture me not, I pray thee, Al Mun-
sour, but tell me all."

“The wise man waits the pleasure of the
king, that he may not anger him with asking
at a wrong time,” said Al Mansour, as senten-
tiously as ever. “ A father must lose his
daughter at some time.” .

"Oh, would to Heaven I had lost her to a
Christian,” groaned the prince. “I would give
her to the poorest knight of Cestile rather
than know her the slave even of a monarch.”

“ Wilt thou give her to the son of the Count
of Lara. if the Calipb give her a dower ruck as
he gives his own daughter?" asked Al Manson,
dr 1 . ~ .

y‘y ould to God I had the chancel Yes, a
thousand times, yes!”

“It is done. Bring in thy bride, my son,"
cried the old Vizier, in tones of triumph.

Instantly Ali Moudara left the hull, only to
return, a moment later, with Panchita, more
beautiful than ever in her Moorish dress, and
red as a rose with modest shame at the assem-
bly she found before her. ' ,

The old prince, in his turn, forgot ceremon
as he ran toembrace his daughter, and the Ca-
liph so far roused himself from his usual in-
guid abstraction as to say: ‘

“ Well done, will)! The boy is worthy of
her. Now for our past!"

Al Mansour smiled his usual grim smile and
looked at Gonzalo, who was standing melan-
choly, alone, looking at his brother’s happiuem
in a contemplativo fashion that had some envy
about it.

“The Calipb is pleased to give his daughter
in marriage on the same day that he weds his
slave to Our adopted son All Moudara,‘ ob-
served the Visier dryly. “ Who is to be 

man my master blesses with the prize?” ' ,
let her do. _

“Call in our Shooting Star and

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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4 ._,i l m IV V," V» ., .v  I - .

' 34%.. .
,.

I'de it," was the verdict of Al Mansour and he

'no accident, but the wrongs of 1m avenged

r. . fin". u». ‘. ‘,: U  1- ‘ n4“ "' 

 

 

 

 

slapped his hands.

Immediately, enter old Mensa as fit as ever
followed by Zoraya, veiled with such trans-
parent tissub that it was only an evasion of
the laws of Mohammad

Gonzalo turned toward her with an eager,
anxious look that was soon changed to one of
inefl'able joy as quaya placed her hand in his,
led him silently to her father and knelt down
with him before the Caliph.

As for the Commander of the Faithful he
smothered a yawn under his silky black beard,
waved his hand-overthem and said: '

“The hqjib baaaaid it. She has been the
torment of my life, and ,I give her freely to
thee with a dower. Take her to Castile and
‘Allah be with thee, young man." .

Gonna'o made no scruple at taking the gift
:llus carelessly thrOwn to him, but the tears
same into the eyes of the giddy princess as she
retired, and she whispered to Gonnalo:

“I will not torment thee at least, my love.
Oh had be only blemed me!"

“ We will bless  other,” wastheanswsr-
ing whisper in ' of order. “0h, Zoraya, I
have thee at last."

“ And now, my lords,” observed the Vizler,
cheerfully, "we have punished our thieves for
stcaling, and our runaways for flight. The
Christian maid would not wed a Caliph, and
she takes a simple Moslem knight. The Chris‘
tian knight would steal a princess and has suf-
fered the pains of a prison only to be wed to a
)lcslem woman. Now let us to rest that we '
may see the games betimes in the morning." l

 

 

The plain of Al Zohra was covered with
spectators next day to see the games and great
were the feats of arms exhibited. There was
playing of jereed in the Moslem way, and
heavy tilting in Christian fashion not unat-
tended with wounds and death though it was'
all said to be in sport.

One battle excited great interest from its
tragic ending. A knight in white armor on .
a white Barb horse met a Christian knight in
dark armor on a heavy black charger. The
contest seemed to be unequal for the black
knight was larger and heavier in every way.
Nevertheless in the very first shockthe white
knight struck him full in the throat with his
lance shattering his gorget and bore him over
the horse's oroup a dead man, his spear not even
grazing the side of his antagonist.

The falling knight never spoke after he fell
but lay staring up at the sky with an expres-
sion of blank horror and aflright that stamped
itself en his dead face for hours after and had
not faded away when they laid him in the
grave, as the viotim of an accident.

But the few in the secret knew that it was

by the adopted son of Al Mansour, and it was
Gonzalo who embraced his brother closely as
they carried the body away and said in a low
voice: .

“ It was thy place. Thou art more worthy
than I, my brother."

 

There is but little more to tell ere we have
dosed with the wild old legend of the Brothers
of Lara which we have woven into this our
tale of old times. The weddings of Fernan and
Gonnlo Gonzales to the Princesses Zoraya and
Panohite were celebrated at Cordova in Chris-
tian and Moslem fashion successively and the
House of Lara enriched by the possessions of
Ru! Velasque- through the Countees since;
his si=ter, and by the muniflcent dowers given
by “‘0 Gimp}! to maladies became one of the
richest as it was the oldest house in Spain.

‘ Pepito and Babe in due time man-led Cas-
tlllan women and became the founders of a
thrifty house of merchants in Barcelona,wboro
their descendants are found at the present day,
and the name of Salido y N ones is synony-
mous with thrift.

The count and countess lived ten years after
the marriage of their twin sons, and were
noted far and wide for spoiling their grand-
children exoemively, but alter their death the
Christian kingdom gained rapidly on the
Moors, for Al Mansour was gathered to his
fathers and there was none to take his place.

The indolent Haschem succumbed to a revo-
lution, the glittering fabric of Moorish Dumin- ‘
ion fell to pieces as quickly as it had risen and
grandchildren of Panchita and Zoraya

 

lived to see the Mosque of Cordeva turned into
a Christian Cathedral and Medina Al Zohra a
heap of ruins.

But, all the same, the lovers were happy,
and so the world goes on and will go on again,
for love outlests all kingdom and is the only
thing that is always new.

m aim.

Half-Dime Singer’s Library

1 WKOA. Emmi and59 other Songs.

2 CAPTAIN Cm and 57 other Songs.

3 Tan GArsssoao' HAT and as other Sbnga

4 Joanna Morrow and 60 other Songs.

5 I‘LL Swans You Wrrn A mrm and 620thers.

 

 

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8 Yoxmo Fauna, You‘na Too Fauna and 60 others.
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11 MY FAN and 65 other Songs.

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24 01.1) SIMON, m HOT-CORN MAN and 60 others.

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28 TwanNsvnnnoronrrurSoandfiOother-s.

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80 Tm: va Income MAN and 56 other Songs.

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31 Tun and 50 other Songs.

85 Juan- 'ro Pumas: m Bars and 52 other Songs.

36 Sumo on ONE nu ma Oman and 52 others.

37 Roman Kmxxs and 59 other Songs.

88 Na. Dmmxnux and 58 other Songs.

39 Tanamleerxn Ma andGOotherSongs.

40 "he now A LITTLEFADED F‘uownn andbo others.

41 Pam! Wmuumu and 60 other Songs.

42 Ducmo nu ma Bum and 68 other Songs.

43 HIM. S. Pman comma, and 17 other Songs.
Sold everywhere by Newadealers, at five cents

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BEADLE AND ADAMS, Punusnnns,
98 Wu.qu Sranr, an Yeas.

 

 

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All are features in every number from such
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was; is booth: rgmu? 311:5an, that the
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Address BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers,
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No. 1. Adventures of Buhlo Bill. Prom Boyhood to No. 6. Cruise of the Plyaway; or. Yankee Boys in Cey-
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early life of William F. Cody. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.
No. 7. Roving Joe: The Histo of a Y Border
no. 2- 1"” om“ Hunter'i 9"! the Ch” of L0“ Human. Brief Scenes from tgme of Joseph E. dger,Jr.
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‘ 98 William, Street, New York

 

 

 

 

 

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cancero—

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Two Gram' Lrvas. . M. R. Crowell.
Tin WAa or Hun-rs. B Corinne Cushnran.
11 Tu FALss Wmow. . J. D. Burton.

12-18 Les-r roa Lovn. Miss M E. Braddon.
14-15 Tomsas or m SsA. By Victor Hugo.

15 Tin QUADaOON. By Catharine A. Warfleld.
17-18 UNcuI SILAs. By J. S. Le Fanu.

1900 DEAD-8M Faun By Miss M. E. Braddon.
21-22 Lr'r-rLs KA'rs Kmar. B F. W. Robinson.
23 Some m Wm). By M’rs. Mary R. Crowell.
94—? Brnns or Paar. By Miss M. E. Braddon.
26 an Bor or Noaoor-r's. Charles Lever-

27-m CnAnror-rs‘s [summon By Miss Braddon.
29 A GIaL‘s Burn. B; Rett Winwood.

8031 Rim AsA Ross Is us. By Rhoda Broughton.
32 Tns LILYOIrSr. Em Bmeme.

88 Smite-my Wan. Mrs. J. minim
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35 ANNrs Tums. v. J. H. Irgflraham.
36 WrrrIOU'r Mnacr. Bartley T. mpbell.

37 BLACK Eras AND Burs. B Corinne Cuahman.
Chairman.

5'2
U
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w.

an LIsLs‘s DAUGn'rsa. B .M. meme.

WOKAN'a HAND. By author Of “ Dead Letter."

r or WRAT‘R. By Mrs. Mazsa Crowell..

ILD Gnu. By Corinne L hman.

HE MADDssrr MAaarAGs Evan WAs. By Burton.

V: IN A Man. By Mrs. E F. Ellet.

A'rIIOLINA. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

Roman or A Pooa YOUNG Gnu. E. F. Ellet.
Ham. By Corinne Cushman.

Psmsos m Downs. 13; M. Blount.

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SH>¢p

>0

arssaseessaraee
5’?
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Wave FLQLX

.MA,.,‘..A~‘.

Fireside

n wAt‘nMn

 

 

 

 

 

m

 

56 Tu Pam Paar-rm.

57 DID San SIN? By Mrs.

58 DOUBLY Dryoncsn. B Jenn Davis Burton.

59 A WICKED Wow. y is D. U. Blake.

00 BLIND BAnnAnA‘s Sncan-r. Mary Harm.

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02MAnGOUN.rnn GE. Bme.M.Turner-.

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64 Ta: Canons: Consms.  Wm.

05 Possum To run Anna. C. hman.

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87 ELEGANT Beam. By hilip S. Warne.

68 LADY HsLsN’s Vow. B Mrs. E. F. Ellet.

09 Bowrs, Tas- KNIGrI'r or ALsr. RS. Warne.

70 DnrrrrNG 'ro RUIN. By Mary Reed Crowell.

71 THE PABBON‘S DAUGHTER. By A Parson's
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72 Ten rs-rmuous GUAnDrAN. .

78 WAs Sun A Wm. By RettWiawood.

74 ADIuA, ran ADOPTED. By Jennie D. Burton.

75 Pm AND PROUD. By Corinne Cushman.

76 Tun BITTER Faun. By Jennie D. Burton.

77 A WOMAN'S Woax. By Mrs. E. 1“. Eliot.

78 Tu Br.on Bram. B Corinne Cushrnan.

79 CORAL AND Rum. B ennle Davis Burton.

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81 ALMOBTMARBIED. ByAParson‘s Daughter.

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06

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p-A

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Libfigfx

 

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50 Tim

CosAN Ramses. By rylA. Deniscn.
51 Two YOUNG Gnue. By Alice eming.
52 Turn Wmosn Massacre. well.

58 AGan Horn, m Ac'ranss. W. M Turner.

54 ON: WOMAN'S Hus/r. B Geo
55 ~83: Dm Nor Lovs Hm. By A. uthworth.
56 LOVE-MAD. By William Mason Turner, M. D.

57 A BRA": G L. Alice Flemin .

58 Tran Enos 8!. y Mrs. Mar good Crowell.

59 A WIDow‘s Wrms. By Rache Bernhardt.

60 Cscm’s‘DncnI'r. By Mrs. Jennie Davis Burton.

61 A WICKED HEART. By Sara Claxton.

09 THE MANIAc BNIDn. By Margaret Biount.

68 Tue Cnsou: Srs'rnns. By Anna E. Porter.

64 WHAT JEALOUBY DID. By Alice Fleming.

65 Tin: Wm‘s Swan. By Col. Juan Lewis.

66 A Baorm‘s BIN. By Rachel Bernhardt. .

07 FoasrnnnN Bus. By Arabella Southworth.

58 ansas AND Wm. By MissM. E. Bradden.

on CAan. By Alexander Dumas.

70 Turn Two OsrnANs. By D'Enn‘eg

71 My YOUNG Wrrs. By My Young e‘s Husband

7‘2 Tan Two Wmows. By Annie Thomas.

73 Boss 511an. By Maude Hilton.

74 CscrL CAs'rleAINs’s GAGE. By Ouida.

75 Tu BLACK LADY .Or DUNA. By J. 8. Le Farm.

76 CaAIuo'rrs Tsuan By Mrs. Rowson.

77 Cnars'rrAN Gum's Mrs-run. By the author
of “ John Halifax, Gentleman."

78 Mr YoUNG HvsaAND. By Myself.

79 A QussN AMONGST Worms.

80 Has LORD AND MAma. By Florence Marryat.

81 Lucy Team.

88 A LONG Turn Aoo. By Meta Orred.

83 PLAYING Foa Bras Sum. By Annie Thomas.

84 Ta: LAUasr. Buss. By the author of “John
Halifax, Gentlemen.”

85 Leo As'rqu. By Octave Feuiliet.

86 JANrc'r's RnrnN'rANcs. By George Eliot.

87 Rowen or A Peon YOUNG MAN. By Feuiilet.

88 A 'l‘snnmLs Darn, By Emma Garrison Jones.

89 A GILDsD SIN.

90 Tan Amon‘s DAUGn'rsn. By Mary Howitt.

 

91 Tu JrLr. By Charles Reade.
92 1‘3er ALANNA. By Dennh O'Sullivaa.

93 Lou‘s Vrcroar. By B. L. ll‘araeon.

94 Tim Qua-r Ham. B Mrs. 0

HEARTS. y Rachel Bernhardt.
97 Evan Mn‘mx. By (amt-m

33 it?“ won 23 m” g Mary. Patrick.
ruorus ‘s '
100 Tenor-Gs AND Wm By Fred. Talbot

101 HANNAH. ByMiss
102 Pro WornNG'rON. By Charles Reade.
103 A Dssrm'rs Dun. By Erskine Boyd.

104 Sam“ ON m SNow. By B. L. Farjeon.
105 Tm: GaaAr HOOGAn'rr DIAIIOND. Thackeray.
106 Faon DnnAxs 'no WAnNG. By E. L. Linton.
107 Poor: Zsrn. By P. W. Robinson.

1w Tn Sm Foe-runs or run Run. Aaos BAa-
roN. P - George Elliot.

100 BRnAD—AxD-Cnxssa Arm Krasas. By B. L.
Fadeon.

110 Tax WANDaarNG Ham. By Charles Reade.
111 Ts: Baorrna‘s Bs-r. By Emilie F. Carlen.
112 A Hsao. By Miss Muloclr. Ready Jan. at

113 PAUL AND VIRGINIA. From the F
Bernardin de St. Pierre. mm a

’ IN Am ‘
114 Tynet and Taxes s BAY. By Walter
115 Tex MAID or Knumu. William Black.
116 Km. By Henry Kingsley.
117 Tax WArers Caoss. Capt. E. A. Milman.
118 Tea Vrcm or WAxmsLD. Oliver Goldsmith.
119 MAUD MORAN. By Annie Thomas. |
120 TnADDsus or WAnsAw. By Miss Jane Porter
121 Tue KING or No-LAND. By B. L. Far-jeon.
Ready Mmh 7th.
122 Loy m Wmowsa. B W. M. Thacke .
"” Bean 1?
123 AN IsLAND Punt. By B- L- Farjeon.
My March 21st.
194 COUer Psuars. Ready March 28th.

A new law every week.
genre? has" ‘8 “r we I»:
e w
mifi on receipt of six Gem  or an

BEADLE AND ADAMS, ram
98 William street, NerverY'ort.

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BEADLE’S DIME LIBRARY.

32 Large Three-Column Pngeo. Each Number Complete. Prloe 1. en.

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1. A Hard Crowd. By P. S. Warne. 71. Captain Cool-Blade. J. E. Badger. » 138. Rody. the Rover; or. Tm Rm»

F. 3. The Dare-Devil. By 001. Ingmhan. 72. The Phantom Hand. By Aiken. now or Imam. ywmlamcoietn.
gt r 8. Kit Carson. Jr., 'Itan CRACK Snort or 73. The ht of the Red Cress; 134. Darkie on, THE 00m Dmo-
g m War. Buckskin San. or, Tm: more!” or mun. Dr. J. H. Robinson. “"1"” m M33135“?! MYm- 3! 1W5!“-

'-;; ” 4. The na per. By P. S. Wane. 74. Captain of the Rifles. Mayne Reid. 135. The Bush r; or, Tu:

 . 5. n9 Fire-1‘ By A. 2,. mm. 75. Gentleman Gem-fie. By Aiken. "fgfimflimfiflf “3‘1me?" m,

I  6, wadcat Bob, THE BOSS  78. The Queen’s “Shem” : or! JOIN 11;: Even Ruem wB-y ng’oh or,
if “Titanium Bloonnomvne. ML. Wheeler. Texans, m Pmcnea Pure-r. ByGeomeAlbony. 13'7 Lo Bur'a mm sum. 3:; B

 " gimme“ m“. 01133:“; °“’ 33°31?“ firm” $.32...” 33’ “m “WM n8 ’ ' ’

7’”, . “a Y m . e yote . yGninger ' '

:fi 8' “1.9%”: mega? Aswan“ 79. Joe Phemx.‘ Pomona SPY. By Aiken. 30:3;ng nyfnmlnmerfiafiwa or, T8.

.1“; ISOSy exne.  Mgngumuél Lover   fibula; of Nerve. By  Skmnmo. 139. Fire-Bye, THE 3814:). LE???” ‘1;

. ’ ' ° - ‘ ‘ . e uman Tiger. y n. A Emma. yOo P. m

.1? “flab T“ Fm“ Pm” 5"- ? g “as w the Swordn‘laster.  Three Spaniards. n;
 11. Bit Easy. Capt. Marryat By E- ‘ “'3‘”! 6” ew‘m‘w'

A; 13. The heath By Mayne  83. Gold Bullet Sport. By Bufalo Bill. 1 1. Equinox Tom, ’1‘“ Bull 0!" RED
 § 13. patmwa ; 0&me WHFFLES’ m 84. Hunted Down. By A. W. Aiken. Rofi2%3”&£“g:g;bm THEM 09 Tu

"ii Om'tmwm or ran 'oms'r. By Robhso 85' The Cretan Rove“ By Ingmhum' Inez: F101: y Major Dangerfield Burr.

fl ' {4‘ 9”" brain” By M “mg” o “'3” 3133.3“?‘2 $1.331”; Q3.” 143 The CW" SW‘ °" T“ “W”
i. . . _ _ Fm 0008. y nu )01‘0 “ an r.“ ‘ ' '

y.“ 13. w}: T t... wiiéil.3§.‘3 mg: 3;. The mm ngfifmfflgsg W1?;vr'fi.°§lm§££§§zi3‘fifi.mm

 {3’ millghsmagmzng Jkgdlifblgfion' Sneezgiglnm ’ anm-nm By Badger. Bylvégflgiufibl Paula. By W. R. Fqster.

.; y 19- Red 09:3” T P y on“ "'9' 89. The Pirate Prince. By Ingraham. 146' The Doctor Demve; or Tn
'1'; ' WGuhtav Aimard. ’ an “AM umw' 90' Wild wnl' T“ MAD R‘NW; Hymn; orm Gown: Cor-m. By Goo. lemuel.

TH?“ 80. Be Bandit at Bay. By Aimard. 0" mm” Tm‘ B Buckskin 89m“ 147- G016- 8 “1'. "it Gmnxm m.

 21 m I!" vs Dan hm. o 91' Winning 3!" By Alk‘m- Tuna. B Colonelgrentiss bun. '

:1 m ‘ V. F pwam L ' B" 92. Bnfl’alo 3m. Tun Bncxsxm Kmo; 143_ ne. Armed 1f, Tm; Gum

«ii 88. 91.9123. y DrveJ Elafiobinson B’9fikagu‘mel‘bm T 1b“. B Mk Evan; Orrin gamma mfafiBy OllBCotAmeam
it The Red .1140 ' ' ' ’ Pu"in 8' y en- . e 0 er ' es. y 1m

.5.“ :2. W X I" By Ned Bunmne 94- Freelance. THE BUCCANEER; 0". The 150. El Rubio Bravo. KING or run

‘5 ' e ow?” By 6' Aimm‘ Wm 0’ 7“ WAVE BY 001- Militia Ingmham. Swoanmmx. By 001. Thomas Hoyer Monetary.

 25. The Gold-Grude. By F. Johnson. 95, Ashortgl‘nn: AXMAN. By A. 1’. Morris. 151. The Fmbooters, By Aimard

‘3, 1‘ 26‘ The Dea'th'TMk- .By  JOhnson. 96. Double-Death.\ By F. Whittaker.   Ironnerve, Tin Cows-
 87' The Spoyter'netecuve' By Aiken- 97. Bronne Jack. By A. W. Aiken. mm Omar. By Marmaduke Dey_

a? .23. Thregflégmd ka- Tm- Rom 98. The Rock Rider; or. Tun Sum 1.53. The White Scalper. By Aimard-

 V “was  322..  mmzpwmmgzrsrszzm 154. Jo “in, m Sm mm- 
ll. . ‘ 9 , ’ , . J . h E. , .

5" .‘ m 0mm“ cam}? BY Philip} Weme» ’ 100. The French Spy. By A. P. Morris. 1 5, The com een. B c L
 31’- ?xzpfim’; 3.53.:  “:3:- “w "an fr" 1%" M  my . ~ .~ 3.“ M y ”
.. - . v - ~ men mu on 0mm onux. ByAiken. . e vet ace. a'or D
 33'33‘311.°§§.‘3“.“i‘#§§°°‘ igzfirrmmwwm new. .. .I ’ 
 o o Y-'-18n- . r e tineer.l ha. . our.'rlm Amour. B

 84. lockyuountam' Rob. By Aiken. v 104. Montezuma. 3.. Mercilnegg; 3?, (M Thomas Hoyeruonmeg. ’

'3'; ‘ 85. Kon'tuck. the Sport. By Aiken. 'rmt Emu/moms Sm. By 001. P.1ngraham 158. The Doom Dozen; or, Do-
. 86. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 105. Dan Brown of Denver, Tun WHEN!“ DWE'B Qw'm 13! Dr- 1'- Powell-
‘1 - 87. mp1, the Hunchback; on, Tm; Roan Mons-rm Dmmvn. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr. 159- Red End 1‘. m Amm B!
.321.” 8‘0me opmn SAW  Du J.  Baum“.    001. D9113 sal'a. captmn  . er-
 ~  Velv§t Hand.s By A. W. Aiken. 119733 Richard Tafilcbnot ofBCifnvabax-g w180. Ssoft Hgngfiughak : 3:, Tan MAN
'5 o 1110 sxan' . B' Wh'ttak . 0P. , nommsonmn HAND. y . .Aike rm m ‘m. y m r.

 40. The L2; 3.15:1 .lgudl“, (f: 10 (. The Duke of Diamonds; or, Tani 181. The Wolveo of New York: or,
a m Tme arm ms. 3,, J08 E Badger Jr' Fwwum or CWA. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. Jon P-mx‘s Giuwr In: Hum. By A. W. Alken.
 41. Golan“. By Amen'w. Aiken: V 109. Captain film-fl By Col. Ingrhham. 162. The Mad Mariner: or, DISHON-
v;  4g. camufih Detective. By Aiken. 110. The Silent eman. By Herbert. OREDAND DISOWID~ BY 001- Prentiss Ingrahnrn.
~ 43. Dakotan‘n. 3 011000,)“. ’ 111. TheSznn gler Captain; or, Tn: 163- Ben Brion, T“ .mmn 9“"
' , I . y ‘ Smm’s 0mm .Byfied mum... um. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. .

3 . r 44' old Dan Run” on Loomes‘ 112. Joe Phenix PRIVATE Dmc'nvn- 164- The King's P0013 0“, T33

i" 45 0111 Bull’ E J E B d J ' ' m an...
‘I ; K‘ 4" Bcwifixn'ifeygen OS'B ' OI?  or, T3: Luann or m 8mm. N Kins. By Aiken. Eye D an? MP” Hub“ “'1’ R” C3-

.   . . y 113. The Sea Silage}?! or, Tun AMA- 165. Joaquin, the Terrible. By Joel

 

47. Pacific Pete. By JOE. B. Badger, Jr. rm anoo'rnns. B . . Ingraham. B ‘ J
48. Idaho Tom. Tm! YOUNG OUTLAW 114. The Gent emanfrom Pike: or, 3 E 16 e" "1 t th Robb pm .
* a Sum. By 011 Ooomeo. The G om or rm: CANYON. B Philip 8. Wane. 3 T8 ' wne ’ e 3 g: ,1 £33”
“ ‘ 40. The WolfDemon. ByA.W. Aiken. 11 . Tho Severed ead. Whittaker. 1 {g7xn'gg‘o ‘m‘n'wo'i togl in“ r 3“

Tm:

to. Jack Rabbit, Tun Puma Srom- 116. Black Plume, Tm: or mu: mum m or’ 

‘\ By Joe. E. Badger. Jr. ’ Bu; or run Sononnnes or Ema-Gui). Ingraham. 138 I'Iagfirdomwm P1321: DAB'AI; 
' 51. Red Rob, Tm: BOY ROAD-AGENT. 11". Das Dandy, Tun were; or .r' pm Do” Dom B, Colonel hem-m;

a? “3%.. mu m c ' "li‘g‘fi? ’fii. ' “125%” B...“ n -

. ea or any or . r apt z or r. . 1...] Canon. rm; MAN

looms. 85 Ken. Wm. F. CodyJBuflalo Bill.) Fun: 8': By PJJ. B. Ingraham. ' "£90.22? Colonel Thomas Boyer "0118192;
‘8. 8 ver Sam. By Col. Delia Sara. 119. inborn. Joe. By J. B. Badger. 170. Sweet William. 'rnn Truman
‘4. Alwayl on Hand. By P. 8. Warm. 180. The Texan 85y. By N. M. Curtis. ' or Tn Cm w m Omaox emu.

 

m.
55. The-Scalp Hunters. Mayne Reid. . 121. The Sea. 0 t. By Ingrabam, By Joseph m 15 r.
53. The Indian Mezeppa. By A‘iken. 122. Saul Sub y,THE Imor an; 171- er 165w Tm: MA)! or m
‘57. The Silent Hunter. P. B. St. John. oanou. m Smow. B Ned Bunuine. M 3% ’31," P me-
58. Silver Knife. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 193- Alapaha. the know: or, Tim 178' :0 in“! 01', TEE MYS-
50. “to Man PromTexao. By Aiken. Mn” " 1"" 30”“- BY W18 Johnson. 7'" " m m” “7"”- 3’ 0°10“! PIE-“88

0.. Wide Awake. By Frank Dumont. dmt'gwfimenffi gains: 178. California John. m PM“

81. Captain Seawaifi By Ned Buntline Woman. By Albert W. Alba.
as. new Heart. By oustm Aimard. mfi‘fifi‘; Ey‘fnfiffl'fiww "v 174. Phantom x be. A Tale .1

 

. as. The ed Whale. By Aiken. 120.TheDemonDuellst.By1[oootory. 0”“ - B “WM "Mu-Ing-
. _ _ .04. Do ble- ht. the Death Shot. 127. s 1 M - 17 - P no a no Trump- y Maw
‘  m .‘f . .. .. ms: £3.22 “Wen-w, "v  m net-«mm

 ' \ 6m Refill. By I“. Whittaker. 188. The Oheva or or, y 1 0' W J“‘“"‘"‘”“ “m-
4... 00. The 119. Mayne Reid. Elan-Aer: or mun. By the m”m334 3, “mm w ‘ Mm.“

'; _ 07. The J .' By J. E. Badger. 189. Mind-aim Home. By Burnett. A um mm m tuck-
. ' ' £3; 33:... m 3,, L23. or’ m 1’00 039M Velmeo '1 melt Boga.” Dime Library in for sale by O!
’ 00. The I“ at. )y whim, 131. Buckskin 8am. By 0151. Ingraham. Newsdealem. ten cents per-on. or not by no! on
N. Hydrated. ‘ fireman: or, 183. Home. King «the Train I: or, mod” of We!” 00‘“ em mbuamm
m filo-a or‘m Com. By Robinson. In Roux! (lows "mama. By W . Publishers. 98 William Strut. New York

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