ravenous flames.
Furiously they fought by the light of the conflagration, and as the
fitful wind flung high the clouds of smoke, and the unresisting fire
assumed the mastery, you might see by their dark reflection the grim
visages of the infuriate foes distended with rage, and each arm with
fearful grasp raising the deadly weapon, flashing upon his adversary:
then they were all again concealed in the wreathing folds of the
impervious fog which closed upon them.

The principal street of the town now presented a ruinous and desolate
aspect; both parties were concentrating their efforts in this spot, and
here the combat raged with the greatest violence. Again the blast swept
along, bearing before it the masses of black suffocating vapour, but in
a clearer interval the eagle glance of Alonso de Aguilar had descried
the terrible form of El Feri, now animating his followers, and now
darting amongst the foremost of the assailants. He eagerly rushed
forward to encounter hand to hand the formidable enemy of the
Christians, crying aloud,----

"Turn, rebel Moor; turn, traitor, and receive thy reward from the sword
of Alonso de Aguilar." El Feri readily obeyed the summons, and
springing upon his enemy, with his uplifted weapon he dealt a tremendous
blow on the shield of Aguilar and almost clove it asunder. A furious
combat ensued, the results of which were soon lost in a huge mass of
smoke. But now a wild cry rent the air; it was the death knell of the
Moors, that rung prophetic on the blast--hope affrighted fled from their
hearts, for El Feri had fallen. The mighty chief drew his stern features
into a condensed expression of resolute despair; his face assumed an
ashy hue, and his frozen lip curled with an expression of scornful
defiance. Dimly but ferociously his eyes were bent on his conqueror,
whilst his sinewy hand grasped firmly the weapon it could no longer
wield. The gigantic frame of the Moor was convulsed, and his soul
struggled fiercely to recover the lost energies of its frame. El Feri
had fallen, but even prostrate and defenceless, he seemed still
formidable; for even in its ruins, manly strength and noble courage must
ever strike the mind with a sensation of awe.

Don Alonso de Aguilar gazed intently on the foe now lying at his feet. A
single blow, and his country would be for ever freed from her most
redoubted enemy. But Don Alonso beheld that enemy defenceless, and his
arm refused to strike, for his heart was too