he sword must decide.'

_Ryno._--You are my brother in arms, and wounded; I will not fight with
you!

_Idallan._--Has the struggle with the Moors already exhausted your
stock of courage?

_Ryno._--Idallan! Even this shall not provoke me!

Idallan in a rage seized the veil, which Ryno reluctantly released, to
save it from destruction. He hung it upon a high branch, and placed
himself before it with his sword drawn. 'The veil is mine, if you are
too cowardly to contend for it.' The noble Ryno half drew his sword,
but, recollecting himself, immediately returned it to its sheath, and
was about to mount his horse.

'Do you slight me?' roared Idallan, running after him sword in hand.
Ryno was compelled to turn and draw, and a furious battle commenced
over the dead bodies of the Moors. The attack and defence were
conducted on both sides with equal courage and skill, so that neither
obtained any advantage over the other. Sparks flew at every encounter
of their weapons, the frightened birds flew screaming from the place,
and the timid deer fled to the protection of the remotest thickets.

CHAPTER III.

Under a natural arch of primeval granite, in the most secluded recess
of a wild and savage mountain, was situated the deeply indented cave of
the sorceress, Hiorba. The cavern was filled with sieves and cauldrons,
mummies and bundles of herbs, hieroglyphics and mirrors, crystal globes
and crocodiles, in mystical confusion. Two torches, held by skeleton
hands, lighted the whole. In a circle of strange characters and human
bones, lay the aged and despairing Hiorba, her face to the ground,
frantically tearing the last remains of her silver hair with her
withered hands. Two large black cats were caressingly and soothingly
purring about her. Suddenly she appeared to be shaken as by an electric
shock. She arose with flashing eyes, stretched out her magic wand
towards the largest of the mirrors, and murmured some words of unknown
meaning. Strange confused images appeared upon the clear crystal. As
she anxiously watched the figures her interest seemed to increase every
moment, and every moment her joy became more plainly visible, until at
length she gave a cry of ecstatic delight as Aliande and Daura, her
charming foster-daughters, rushed breathlessly into the cave.

'Here we are, good mother,' cried Daura, embracing her with ardor.

'Escaped from death, from shame, and from the terrible Ras