y stately step and lofty crest-thou goest to
chains, perhaps to death."

As Almamen thus vented his bitter spirit, the last gleam of the white
robes of Muza vanished from his gaze. He paused a moment, turned away
abruptly, and said, half aloud, "Vengeance, not on one man only, but a
whole race! Now for the Nazarene."

BOOK. II.

CHAPTER I. THE ROYAL TENT OF SPAIN.--THE KING AND THE DOMINICAN--THE VISITOR AND
THE HOSTAGE.

Our narrative now summons us to the Christian army, and to the tent
in which the Spanish king held nocturnal counsel with some of his more
confidential warriors and advisers. Ferdinand had taken the field with
all the pomp and circumstance of a tournament rather than of a campaign;
and his pavilion literally blazed with purple and cloth of gold.

The king sat at the head of a table on which were scattered maps and
papers; nor in countenance and mien did that great and politic monarch
seem unworthy of the brilliant chivalry by which he was surrounded. His
black hair, richly perfumed and anointed, fell in long locks on either
side of a high imperial brow, upon whose calm, though not unfurrowed
surface, the physiognomist would in vain have sought to read the
inscrutable heart of kings. His features were regular and majestic: and
his mantle, clasped with a single jewel of rare price and lustre, and
wrought at the breast with a silver cross, waved over a vigorous and
manly frame, which derived from the composed and tranquil dignity of
habitual command that imposing effect which many of the renowned
knights and heroes in his presence took from loftier stature and ampler
proportions. At his right hand sat Prince Juan, his son, in the first
bloom of youth; at his left, the celebrated Rodrigo Ponce de Leon,
Marquess of Cadiz; along the table, in the order of their military rank,
were seen the splendid Duke of Medina Sidonia, equally noble in aspect
and in name; the worn and thoughtful countenance of the Marquess de
Villena (the Bayard of Spain); the melancholy brow of the heroic Alonzo
de Aguilar; and the gigantic frame, the animated features, and sparkling
eyes, of that fiery Hernando del Pulgar, surnamed "the knight of the
exploits."

"You see, senores," said the king, continuing an address, to which his
chiefs seemed to listen with reverential attention, "our best hope of
speedily gaining the city is rather in the dissensions of the Moors
than our own sacred arms. The walls are strong, t