es, she was ushered by
Al-Muli's mother into a magnificently furnished room, and took a seat on
a richly embroidered cushion, called an almofada.

To her future mother-in-law she related all that referred to her
conversation with her father, and how she had been brought away from his
castle; and she further said that she very much feared the baron would
summon all his numerous followers to rescue her.

Al-Muli's mother was a descendant of the Moors who first landed at
Algeziras, and from them had descended to her that knowledge of the
black art which has been peculiar to that race. She, therefore, replied
that although she could count on the resistance her almogavares, or
garrison soldiers, would offer to the forces of the baron, still she
would do her utmost to avoid a conflict. She then proceeded to another
room, in which she kept her magic mirror, and having closed the door, we
must leave her consulting the oracle.

The baron was not long in discovering the absence of his daughter, and
he so stormed about the place that his servants were afraid to come near
him.

In a short time, however, his reason seemed to return to him, and he
sat down on his old chair and gave way to grief when he saw that his
Alina's cushion was vacant.

"My child--my only child and love," sobbed the old man, "thou hast left
thy father's castle, and gone with the accursed Moor into the hostile
land of Spain. Oh, that I had been a good Christian, and looked after my
daughter better! I have braved the orders of good St. Bartholomew; I
would not take the thirty-three baths in the sea, and now I am
wretched!"

The baron suddenly became aware of the presence of a distinguished and
patriarchal looking stranger, who addressed him thus--

"You mortals only think of St. Barbara when it thunders. Now that the
storm of sorrow has burst on you, you reproach yourself for not having
thought of me and of my instructions. But I see that you are penitent,
and if you will do as I tell you, you will regain your daughter."

It was St. Bartholomew himself who was speaking, and the baron, for the
first time in his life, shook in his shoes with fear and shame.

"Reverend saint," at last ejaculated the baron, "help me in this my
hour of need, and I will promise you anything--and, what is more, I will
keep my promises."

"And you had better do so," continued the saint; "for not even Satan has
dared to break his compact with me. You don't know how terrible I