th terror in
her countenance, and informed her that her father was carried off by
armed men.

Inez did not stop to hear further, but flew down-stairs to overtake
them. She had scarcely passed the threshold, when she found herself in
the grasp of strangers.--"Away!--away!" cried she, wildly, "do not
stop me--let me follow my father."

"We come to conduct you to him, senora," said one of the men,
respectfully.

"Where is he, then?"

"He is gone to Granada," replied the man: "an unexpected circumstance
requires his presence there immediately; but he is among friends."

"We have no friends in Granada," said Inez, drawing back; but then the
idea of Antonio rushed into her mind; something relating to him might
have call her father thither. "Is senor Antonio de Castros with him?"
demanded she, with agitation.

"I know not, senora," replied the man. "It is very possible. I only
know that your father is among friends, and is anxious for you to
follow him."

"Let us go, then," cried she, eagerly. The men led her a little
distance to where a mule was waiting, and, assisting her to mount,
they conducted her slowly towards the city.

Granada was on that evening a scene of fanciful revel. It was one of
the festivals of the Maestranza, an association of the nobility to
keep up some of the gallant customs of ancient chivalry. There had
been a representation of a tournament in one of the squares; the
streets would still occasionally resound with the beat of a solitary
drum, or the bray of a trumpet from some straggling party of
revellers. Sometimes they were met by cavaliers, richly dressed in
ancient costumes, attended by their squires; and at one time they
passed in sight of a palace brilliantly illuminated, from whence came
the mingled sounds of music and the dance. Shortly after, they came to
the square where the mock tournament had been held. It was thronged by
the populace, recreating themselves among booths and stalls where
refreshments were sold, and the glare of torches showed the temporary
galleries, and gay-coloured awnings, and armorial trophies, and other
paraphernalia of the show. The conductors of Inez endeavoured to keep
out of observation, and to traverse a gloomy part of the square; but
they were detained at one place by the pressure of a crowd surrounding
a party of wandering musicians, singing one of those ballads of which
the Spanish populace are so passionately fond. The torches which were
held by some