stian cavaliers had many a time
reined up their panting steeds at the very entrance of the barbican,
and retired, cursing the strong walls of Roma that robbed them of their
prey.

The late ravages of Ferdinand and the continual skirmishings in the
Vega had roused the vigilance of the castle. One morning early, as the
sentinels kept watch upon the battlements, they beheld a cloud of dust
advancing rapidly from a distance: turbans and Moorish weapons soon
caught their eyes, and as the whole approached they descried a drove
of cattle urged on in great haste and convoyed by one hundred and fifty
Moors, who led with them two Christian captives in chains.

When the cavalgada arrived near the castle, a Moorish cavalier of noble
and commanding mien and splendid attire rode up to the foot of the tower
and entreated admittance. He stated that they were returning with rich
booty from a foray into the lands of the Christians, but that the enemy
was on their traces, and they feared to be overtaken before they could
reach Granada. The sentinels descended in all haste and flung open the
gates. The long cavalgada defiled into the courts of the castle,
which were soon filled with bleating and lowing flocks and herds, with
neighing and stamping steeds, and with fierce-looking Moors from the
mountains. The cavalier who had asked admission was the chief of the
party; he was somewhat advanced in life, of a lofty and gallant bearing,
and had with him a son, a young man of great spirit and fire. Close
by them followed the two Christian captives, with looks cast down and
disconsolate.

The soldiers of the garrison had roused themselves from their sleep, and
were busily occupied attending to the cattle which crowded the courts,
while the foraging party distributed themselves about the castle to
seek refreshment or repose. Suddenly a shout arose that was echoed
from courtyard and hall and battlement. The garrison, astonished and
bewildered, would have rushed to their arms, but found themselves,
almost before they could make resistance, completely in the power of an
enemy.

The pretended foraging party consisted of mudexares, or Moors tributary
to the Christians, and the commanders were the prince Cid Hiaya and his
son Alnayar. They had hastened from the mountains with this small force
to aid the Catholic sovereigns during the summer's campaign, and had
concerted to surprise this important castle and present it to King
Ferdinand as a gage of