, leaving in his place a son, who likewise waged war to
the northward on behalf of the Prophet and all True Believers, at the
same time farming his rich Catalonian acres.

Generations came and went, and, although the descendants of Hafiz
waxed strong, so also did the power of the hated Christians. Living
as they did upon the very fringe of the Mussulman empire, the
Moors beheld with consternation the slow encroachment of the
Unbelievers--more noticeable here than farther to the southward.
At intervals these enemies were driven back, but invariably they
reappeared, until at length, upon the plain beneath the castle, monks
came and built a monastery which they called San Sebastian. Beneath
the very eyes of Abul Malek, fourth descendant of Hafiz, they raised
their impious walls; although he chafed to wreak a bloody vengeance
for this outrage, his hands were tied by force of circumstance.
Wearied with interminable wars, the Moorish nation had sought respite;
peace dozed upon the land. Men rested and took from the earth new
strength with which to resume the never-ending struggle between the
Crescent and the Cross, wherefore Abul Malek's rage availed him
nothing. From his embrasured windows he beheld the cassocked enemies
of his creed passing to and fro about their business; he heard his
sacred hour of prayer desecrated by their Christian bells, and could
do no more than revile them for dogs, the while he awaited the will of
Allah. It was scant comfort for a man of his violent temper.

But the truce threatened never to be broken. Years passed and still
peace continued to reign. Meanwhile the Moor fed upon his wrongs and,
from incessant brooding over them, became possessed of a fury more
fanatical, more poisonous even than had been engendered by his many
battles.

Finally, when the wrong had bit too deep for him to endure, he
summoned all his followers, and selecting from their number one
hundred of the finest horsemen, he bade them make ready for a journey
to Cordova; then in their presence he kissed the blue blade of his
scimitar and vowed that the shackles which had hampered him and them
would be struck off.

For many days there ensued the bustle and the confusion of a great
preparation in the house of the Moor; men came and went, women sewed
and cleaned and burnished; horses were groomed, their manes were
combed and their hoofs were polished; and then one morning, ere the
golden sun was an hour high, down the winding