ded within
the warrior city, was now seldom heard from its battlements. In the
midst of this deep despondency a single disaster in the Christian camp
for a moment lit up a ray of hope in the bosom of the Moors.

The setting sun of a hot summer's day, on the 10th of July, shone
splendidly upon the Christian camp, which was in a bustle of preparation
for the next day's service, when an attack was meditated on the city.
The camp made a glorious appearance. The various tents of the royal
family and the attendant nobles were adorned with rich hangings and
sumptuous devices and costly furniture, forming, as it were, a little
city of silk and brocade, where the pinnacles of pavilions of various
gay colors, surmounted with waving standards and fluttering pennons,
might vie with the domes and minarets of the capital they were
besieging.

In the midst of this little gaudy metropolis the lofty tent of the queen
domineered over the rest like a stately palace. The marques of Cadiz
had courteously surrendered his own tent to the queen: it was the most
complete and sumptuous in Christendom, and had been carried about with
him throughout the war. In the centre rose a stately alfaneque, or
pavilion, in Oriental taste, the rich hangings being supported by
columns of lances and ornamented with martial devices. This central
pavilion, or silken tower, was surrounded by other compartments, some
of painted linen lined with silk, and all separated from each other
by curtains. It was one of those camp palaces which are raised and
demolished in an instant like the city of canvas which surrounds them.

As the evening advanced the bustle in the camp subsided. Every one
sought repose, preparatory to the next day's trial. The king retired
early, that he might be up with the crowing of the cock to head the
destroying army in person. All stir of military preparation was hushed
in the royal quarters: the very sound of minstrelsy was mute, and not
the tinkling of a guitar was to be heard from the tents of the fair
ladies of the court.

The queen had retired to the innermost part of her pavilion, where she
was performing her orisons before a private altar: perhaps the peril
to which the king might be exposed in the next day's foray inspired
her with more than usual devotion. While thus at her prayers she was
suddenly aroused by a glare of light and wreaths of suffocating smoke.
In an instant the whole tent was in a blaze: there was a high gusty
wind