to rally them. Some took refuge in the
mountains; but the greater part fled to the city in such confusion that
they overturned and trampled upon each other. The Christians pursued them
to the very gates. Upward of two thousand were either killed, wounded, or
taken prisoners, and the two pieces of ordnance brought off as trophies
of the victory. Not a Christian lance but was bathed that day in the
blood of an infidel. Such was the brief but bloody action, which was
known among the Christian warriors by the name of the "Queen's skirmish";
for when the Marquis of Cadiz waited upon her majesty he attributed the
victory entirely to her presence. The Queen, however, insisted that it
was all owing to her troops being led on by so valiant a commander. Her
majesty had not yet recovered from her agitation at beholding so terrible
a scene of bloodshed; though certain veterans present pronounced it as
gay and gentle a skirmish as they had ever witnessed.

The ravages of war had as yet spared a little portion of the vega of
Granada. A green belt of gardens and orchards still flourished around the
city, extending along the banks of the Xenel and the Darro. They had been
the solace and delight of the inhabitants in their happier days, and
contributed to their sustenance in this time of scarcity. Ferdinand
determined to make a final and exterminating ravage to the very walls of
the city, so that there should not remain a single green thing for the
sustenance of man or beast.

As the evening advanced the bustle in the camp subsided. Everyone 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. The Queen had retired to the innermost part of her pavilion,
where she was performing her orisons before a private altar. 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, which whirled the light flames from tent to tent,
and wrapped the whole in one conflagration.

Isabella had barely time to save herself by instant flight. Her first
thought, on being extricated from her tent, was for the safety of the
King. She rushed to his tent, but the vigilant Ferdinand was already at
the entrance of it. Starting from bed at the first alarm, and fancying it
an assault of the enemy, he had seized his sword and buckler, and