of a noble knight. The king still importuned the maiden,
though fruitlessly. She would not for one moment listen to his suit.
Finally, pressed to the last extreme of resistance, she sought
protection in death, and threw herself from the lofty battlements of the
tower upon the jagged rocks at its base. Here her mangled body was found
by her knightly lover, who had come, but too late, with a band of daring
followers, to rescue his beloved. His revenge was swift and terrible. In
the little mosque hard by Yousuf I. paid the penalty for his persecution
of the gentle maiden, for there he was killed by the disconsolate knight
while he was kneeling in prayer.

Crossing the glen beyond the tower of La Cautiva and ascending the hill
beyond we came upon what is called the Generalife, the summer palace of
the Alhambra, with which, in the olden time, it was connected by an
underground passage, which is still traceable though filled in by decay
and debris. This structure has been scarcely less noted than the main
edifice, but one is rather disappointed at its simplicity and want of
finish as compared with the Alhambra itself. The view from it is so fine
that one feels amply repaid for the visit, though probably but a very
small portion of the original structure remains, since it is now nothing
more or less than a moderate-sized white villa, located in a wilderness
of laurel, myrtle, and cypresses. Through its court-yards and gardens
rushes a branch of the gold-bearing river, the Darro, spending itself in
scores of fountains, tiny falls, cascades, and lakes. The grounds are
full of venerable cypresses of great age and beauty, the only ones we
had seen in Spain except in the English burial-ground at Malaga. Nor had
we observed any elms except those of the grove planted by Wellington.

The gardens of the Generalife form its principal attraction, and the
number of exotic trees and plants gathered here is remarkable. The place
is now owned and cared for by the Genoese family of Grimaldi, who keep a
few people on the premises to protect the property and cultivate the
gardens. We were told the owner had never visited Granada. Passing
through a small rear door of the Generalife, the guide conducted us by a
steep path to what is called the Moor's Seat, the apex of the
neighboring heights, and between which and the mountain range of
snow-clad peaks lies the heavily-wooded valley of the Darro on one side,
and on the other the wide-spread vega