e centre of the apartment a pedestal bearing a marble
urn, in which lay a scroll of parchment. From this one of his scribes read
the following words:
"Whenever this asylum is violated and the spell contained in this urn
broken, the people shown in the picture shall invade the land and overturn
the throne of its kings. The rule of the Goths shall end and the whole
country fall into the hands of heathen strangers."
King Roderic looked again with eyes of alarm on the pictured forms. Well
he knew their meaning. The turban-wearers were Arabians, their horses the
famous steeds of the desert; the bare-headed barbarians were Berbers or
Moors. Already they threatened the land from Africa's shores; he had
broken the spell which held them back; the time for the fulfilment of the
prophecy was at hand.
Filled with sudden terror, the rash invader hurried from the chamber of
the talisman, his courtiers flying with wild haste to the open air. The
brazen gates were closed with a clang which rang dismally through the
empty rooms, and the lock of the king was fixed upon them. But it was too
late. The voice of destiny had spoken and the fate of the kingdom been
revealed, and all the people looked upon Don Roderic as a doomed man.
We have given this legend in its mildest form. Some Arab writers surround
it with magical incidents until it becomes a tale worthy of the "Arabian
Nights' Entertainments." They speak of two ancient men with snowy beards
who kept the keys of the gate and opened the locks only at Roderic's stern
command. When the locks were removed no one could stir the gates until the
hand of the king touched them, when they sprang open of themselves. Inside
stood a huge bronze giant with a club of steel, with which he dealt
resounding blows on the floor to right and left. He desisted at the king's
command, and the train entered unharmed. In the magic chamber they found a
golden casket containing a linen cloth between tablets of brass. On this
were painted figures of Arabs in armor. As they gazed these began to move,
sounds of war were heard, and the vision of a battle between Arab and
Christian warriors passed before the affrighted eyes of the intruders. The
Christian army was defeated, and Roderic saw the image of himself in
flight, and finally of his horse without a rider. As he rushed in terror
from the fatal room the bronze giant was no longer to be seen and the
ancient guardians of the gate lay dead upon their posts. In
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