s,
while beside him, on a palfrey, rode the pale and weeping Florinda. The
populace hailed and blessed him as he passed, but his heart turned from
them with loathing. As he crossed the bridge of the Tagus, he looked back
with a dark brow upon Toledo, and raised his mailed hand and shook it at
the royal palace of King Roderick, which crested the rocky height. 'A
father's curse,' said he, 'be upon thee and thine! May desolation fall
upon thy dwelling, and confusion and defeat upon thy realm!'

In his journeyings through the country, he looked round him with a
malignant eye; the pipe of the shepherd, and the song of the husbandman,
were as discord to his soul; every sight and sound of human happiness
sickened him at heart, and, in the bitterness of his spirit, he prayed
that he might see the whole scene of prosperity laid waste with fire and
sword by the invader.

The story of domestic outrage and disgrace had already been made known to
the Countess Frandina. When the hapless Florinda came in presence of her
mother, she fell on her neck, and hid her face in her bosom, and wept; but
the countess shed never a tear, for she was a woman haughty of spirit and
strong of heart. She looked her husband sternly in the face. 'Perdition
light upon thy head,' said she, 'if thou submit to this dishonor. For my
own part, woman as I am, I will assemble the followers of my house, nor
rest until rivers of blood have washed away this stain.'

'Be satisfied,' replied the count; 'vengeance is on foot, and will be sure
and ample.'

Being now in his own domains, surrounded by his relatives and friends,
Count Julian went on to complete his web of treason. In this he was aided
by his brother-in-law, Oppas, the Bishop of Seville: a man dark and
perfidious as the night, but devout in demeanor, and smoothly plausible in
council. This artful prelate had contrived to work himself into the entire
confidence of the king, and had even prevailed upon him to permit his
nephews, Evan and Siseburto, the exiled sons of Witiza, to return into
Spain. They resided in Andalusia, and were now looked to as fit
instruments in the present traitorous conspiracy.

By the advice of the bishop, Count Julian called a secret meeting of his
relatives and adherents on a wild rocky mountain, not far from Consuegra,
and which still bears the Moorish appellation of 'La Sierra de Calderin,'
or the mountain of treason. When all were assembled, Count Julian appeared
among them