he infidel? ever a woman, could she hope for the defeat of
her lover? But the time for meditation on her destiny was but brief; the
detachment of the Moorish cavalry was now just without the walls of the
little town that girded the castle, and the loud clarion of the heralds
summoned the garrison to surrender.

"Not while one stone stands upon another!" was the short answer
of Quexada; and, in ten minutes afterwards, the sullen roar of the
artillery broke from wall and tower over the vales below.

It was then that the women, from Leila's lattice, beheld, slowly
marshalling themselves in order, the whole power and pageantry of the
besieging army. Thick-serried--line after line, column upon column--they
spread below the frowning steep. The sunbeams lighted up that goodly
array, as it swayed, and murmured, and advanced, like the billows of a
glittering sea. The royal standard was soon descried waving above the
pavilion of Boabdil; and the king himself, mounted on his cream-coloured
charger, which was covered with trappings of cloth-of-gold, was
recognised amongst the infantry, whose task it was to lead the assault.

"Pray with us, my daughter!" cried Inez, falling on her knees.-Alas!
what could Leila pray for?

Four days and four nights passed away in that memorable siege; for the
moon, then at her full, allowed no respite, even in night itself. Their
numbers, and their vicinity to Granada, gave the besiegers the advantage
of constant relays, and troop succeeded to troop; so that the weary had
ever successors in the vigour of new assailants.

On the fifth day, all of the fortress, save the keep (an immense tower),
was in the hands of the Moslems; and in this last hold, the worn-out and
scanty remnant of the garrison mustered, in the last hope of a brave,
despair.

Quexada appeared, covered with gore and dust-his eyes bloodshot, his
cheek haggard and hollow, his locks blanched with sudden age-in the hall
of the tower, where the women, half dead with terror, were assembled.

"Food!" cried he,--"food and wine!--it may be our last banquet."

His wife threw her arms round him. "Not yet," he cried, "not yet; we
will have one embrace before we part."

"Is there, then, no hope?" said Inez, with a pale cheek, yet steady eye.

"None; unless to-morrow's dawn gild the spears of Ferdinand's army
upon yonder hills. Till morn we may hold out." As he spoke, he hastily
devoured some morsels of food, drained a huge goblet of wine,