to him representing the necessity of concord for the
salvation of the kingdom, and even offering to resign the title of king
and to become subject to his sway on receiving some estate on which he
could live in tranquil retirement. But while the ambassadors bore these
words of peace they were furnished with poisoned herbs, which they were
to administer secretly to Boabdil, and if they failed in this attempt
they had pledged themselves to despatch him openly while engaged in
conversation. They were instigated to this treason by promises of great
reward, and by assurances from the alfaquis that Boabdil was an apostate
whose death would be acceptable to Heaven.

The young monarch was secretly apprised of the concerted treason, and
refused an audience to the ambassadors. He denounced his uncle as the
murderer of his father and his kindred and the usurper of his throne,
and vowed never to relent in hostility to him until he should place his
head on the walls of the Alhambra.

Open war again broke out between the two monarchs, though feebly carried
on in consequence of their mutual embarrassments. Ferdinand again
extended his assistance to Boabdil, ordering the commanders of his
fortresses to aid him in all enterprises against his uncle, and against
such places as refused to acknowledge him as king; and Don Juan de
Bonavides, who commanded in Lorca, even made inroads in his name into
the territories of Almeria, Baza, and Guadix, which owned allegiance to
El Zagal.

The unfortunate Boabdil had three great evils to contend with--the
inconstancy of his subjects, the hostility of his uncle, and the
friendship of Ferdinand. The last was by far the most baneful: his
fortunes withered under it. He was looked upon as the enemy of his faith
and of his country. The cities shut their gates against him; the people
cursed him; even the scanty band of cavaliers who had hitherto followed
his ill-starred banner began to desert him, for he had not wherewithal
to reward nor even to support them. His spirits sank with his fortune,
and he feared that in a little time he should not have a spot of earth
whereon to plant his standard nor an adherent to rally under it.

In the midst of his despondency he received a message from his
lion-hearted mother, the sultana Ayxa la Horra. It was brought by the
steadfast adherent to their fortunes, Aben Comixa. "For shame," said
she, "to linger timorously about the borders of your kingdom when a
usurper is