had placed there. This act brought the Cid down upon them. The first
thing he did was to burn Jehaf alive on the great square that you will
see to-morrow when you go to the Archbishop: act worthy of the tyrant.
He ruled here for five years. His will was law; it was a small reign of
terror. Then he died, and his faithful wife Ximena endeavoured to hold
the reins. Those were not times when a woman could rule easily, and in
1101 the Moors brought hers to an end and banished her from the
province. It is said that when the Cid captured Valencia he took his
wife and daughter to a height to show them the richness of the country;
and promised his favourite daughter that if she pleased him in her
marriage that fair prospect from the boundaries of the Saguntum Hills on
the north to the confines of the sea on the east should be her dowry: a
promise never to be fulfilled. Within three years the daughter died
unwedded; a death so violent that it is said to have struck a death-blow
to the Cid, and to have brought home to him many of his perfidious acts.
Certain it is that he was never the same man afterwards. Another two
years brought his own life to a close. But, madame, you are beguiling me
into a history, and turning the old priest into a schoolmaster."

Our fair hostess laughed.

"You make me your debtor," she replied. "I shall take greater interest
in what I see to-morrow, and look at everything through the eyes of the
past. Has the Archbishop any relics of the Cid?"

"Not only of the Cid, but of many other historical persons and events,"
said de Nevada. "You must especially notice the library with its fine
collection of books. I may be there at the moment, and if so will
promote myself to the honour of Librarian-in-chief to Countess Pedro de
la Torre."

"Beware!" laughed madame. "Countess Pedro has a thirst for knowledge.
Your office will be no sinecure."

"My labour of love will at least equal madame's diligence, though the
climate is hardly favourable to very hard work," smiled the priest.
"Even Nature conspires to indolence in the people. The ground brings
forth abundantly, and almost unaided. The Moors thought it an earthly
paradise--as it is. I am not sure but they considered it the scene of
the first paradise. Heaven, they said, was suspended immediately above,
and a portion of heaven had fallen to earth and formed Valencia. To the
sick and sorrowing it is a land of consolation. In its balmy airs--far
more healing t