others laughing
and exulting at having eluded the boasted vigilance of the count de
Tendilla, while ever and anon was heard the plaint of some female
captive bewailing the jeopardy of her honor or the heavy sighing of the
merchant at beholding his property in the grasp of ruthless spoilers.

The count waited until some of the escort had passed the ravine; then,
giving the signal for assault, his cavaliers set up great shouts and
cries and charged into the centre of the foe. The obscurity of the place
and the hour added to the terrors of the surprise. The Moors were thrown
into confusion; some rallied, fought desperately, and fell covered with
wounds. Thirty-six were killed and fifty-five were made prisoners; the
rest under cover of the darkness made their escape to the rocks and
defiles of the mountains.

The good count unbound the prisoners, gladdening the hearts of the
merchants by restoring to them their merchandise. To the female captives
also he restored the jewels of which they had been despoiled, excepting
such as had been lost beyond recovery. Forty-five saddle horses of the
choice Barbary breed remained as captured spoils of the Moors,
together with costly armor and booty of various kinds. Having collected
everything in haste and arranged his cavalgada, the count urged his
way with all speed for Alcala la Real, lest he should be pursued and
overtaken by the Moors of Granada. As he wound up the steep ascent to
his mountain-city the inhabitants poured forth to meet him with shouts
of joy. His triumph was doubly enhanced by being received at the gates
of the city by his wife, the daughter of the marques of Villena, a lady
of distinguished merit, whom he had not seen for two years, during which
he had been separated from his home by the arduous duties of these iron
wars.

We have yet another act to relate of this good count de Tendilla, who
was in truth a mirror of knightly virtue. One day a Christian soldier,
just escaped from captivity in Granada, brought word to the count that
an illustrious damsel named Fatima, niece of the alcayde Aben Comixa,
was to leave the city on a certain day, escorted by a numerous party of
relatives and friends of distinguished rank, on a journey to Almunecar,
there to embark for the African coast to celebrate her nuptials with the
alcayde of Tetuan. This was too brilliant a prize to be neglected. The
count accordingly sallied forth with a light company of cavalry, and,
descending t