The Wizard of Granada — page 2: what you’re looking at

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Ca Donated from the Collection of Darren Scanned and ELLLLCLe oot THE WIZARD OF GRANADA. | CHAPTER I. “Hoty Mary, defend us, Adana! There is sound of combat yonder in the woods, and, by the tumult, we might guess there were a score of men-at-arms. It becomes us to be wary, for I trow our errand is a perilous one enow to war- rant cautiousness. Let us pause, and judge what the quarrel is about, before venturing nearer.” So saying, the gallant Spanish knight checked his horse, and held up a warning hand to enforce the silence of his attendant. They were just emerging from a lonesome : highway bordered with Groves of oak and chest- nut trees, and before them lay a sunny valley, “a-sparkle with the dimpling smile of a narrow river, and lovely with undulating meadows of emerald hue, while against the horizon rose the noble summits, darkly green, which belted the Granadan territory from that which acknowl- edged alleginnce to Spanish rule. From a little grove of chestnuts, mingled here and there with a stately cork tree, came sounds of skirmishing, clashing blades, flerce voices and plunging steeds. With eyes glinting fiery longing to be in the midst of the affray, and stately head bent one side in eager intentness of listening, Sir Ide- fonse waited, curbing with one steel banded hand the excitement of tho splendid black horse he rode with the ease and grace of a centaur, and checking, also, with an authoritative wave of the other, the wild impatience of his well-tried squire, who could never be content in sound of battle without an active part therein. Suddenly, above the ringing steel and hoarse voices, rose clear and light a woman’s scream. “ By St. Jago!” cried out Sir Idefonse, in an indignant voice, “a true knight can no longer skulk here in tameness. Ho, Alana, follow me! St. Jago to the rescue |” He shouted out the cry of attack in a clear, ringing voice, and gaye way to the fiery impetu- osity of both steed and squire—leading the way at a fierce gallop, with his long blade flashing a stream of scintillating splendor, as he waved it around his head. The trampled earth showed him the entrance into the woods, and while Mana behind him took up the cry in deeper tones, forward into the midst of a struggling band of bandits and Moorish soldiery rushed the young knight—his long plume dancing in the wind, his eyes flash- ing as fierce light ag his sword, his noble horse pawing the ground as fierce and ardent as his master, Rider and steed seemed to drop from the clouds, bearing a regal heroism that started the skirmishers into a moment’s astonished pause. “Bb. Jago to the rescue |” shouted Sir Ide- fonse, spurring forward. : The squire followed close behind, echoing the ory. The bandits, some twenty in number, evident- ly beHaved that this splendid young knight was the leader of a whole troop. They shouted a By M. 'T. Cal poe. few hoarse directions to each other, shook off the grasp of the Moors, and gathering together in disorder, beat a hasty retreat. Scarcely ten minutes after the appearance of Sir Idefonse, and the wood was quiet save for the groans of the wounded men lying on the ground, and the low, earnest conversation of the others. : Sir Idefonse had struck but a single blow, which had sent a black-faced ruffian spinning away from the side of a slender figure robed in black, with o long veil flung over the head. It was ® woman certainly, but whether young or old there was no means of judging. Her snow-white palfrey was lying prostrate, with glazing eye and bleeding breast, and she had been held flereely by one of the bandits, who had attempted to bind her wrists with her own silken scarf. She was trembling violently, yet, with a certain haughty stateliness, still held her head erect, and restrained her limbs from giy- ing away to weakness. Sir Ildefonse perceived the knotted scarf, and severed the silken strands with his sword, while he said: “ Would that the caitiff who dared such a das- tardly act were still within reach of my good sword. And yet I trow his arm will long carry a mark by which to remember the metal of my blade.” “How can we thank you enough for your he- roic rescue,” came in sweet though tremulous accents from behind the veil; ‘my poor guard was speedily vanquished by thrice their number of fierce and lawless desperadoes. They would have made me their captive, but that you ap- peared. I would fain essay my words of thank- fulness, but my heart is yet too full for speech. Give me a few moments for composure, that I may learn also the extent of our injuries. Ho, Dalphor, Gefla, how many are there left safe, and unwounded? And find, I beseech you, my friend and your leader. Woo indeed will befall us, if he is killed.” There was a dignity in the voice, as of one used to authority, and it was wonderfully sweet. Sir Idefonse perceived, too, how daintily formed and delicate were the hands he had released from the bonds of the scarf, and it was of more import to him that it suggested the vexatious veil concealed features youthful and lovely, than that the costly bracelet. and diamond rings proved her of high estate and rank. “Let me lead you to a seat,” said he, in the gallant, courtly manner which had made him as fumous in lady’s bower as on the battle fiold. “You have borne nobly the great shock of a scene like this; come, I pray you, out of sight of these ghastly wounds, this bloody scene, so unmeet for such gentle eyes.” While he spoke he turned away toward a little clump of trees on the other side where the fairies seemed to have improvised a sylvan throne. For a fallen tree had been canopied with’ festooning vine, and cushioned with soft- est moss, and a glittering quartz rock made at Sir Idefonse seated the unlmown lady, bowed deferentially, and went back to look after her servants, Alana, his own squire, was busily at work tending the wounded. They had indeed arrived in good season. Of the ten attendants of the lady only three were able to help themselves, and four were killed outright. They were too bewildered with terror to be able to act calmly or be of service. “Here’s one,” said Alana, beckoning to his master, and speaking in a cautious whisper. “ Here's one who seems to be of better condition thon the others; and there’s a frame for a sol- dier, and a head with a forehend too broad to belong to one of these infidel dogs, who haven’t Sense enough to fight like men.” “Hush, Alana! Remember the counsel I gaye you, and the danger we risk, if we hint our contempt for their religion. Our errand is too important to be risked lightly ; remember we are venturing boldly into the stronghold of the Moors; and what could the poor fellows do, sur- | prised by thrice their number? Haye a care, lift his head carefully; it is in truth a broad forehead, and these are noble and dignified features. Thore is no wound. Ah, I see. The blow was on the head; that thiok velvet turban saved the skull. He is stunned, not dead. Bring some water to pour over the head, and tke flask of wine from my saddle, Step nimbly, Alana, we may have him back sound and well.” The squire obeyed with ready alacrity, and Sir Idefonse, kneeling down, began chafcg the long, slender, delicate fingers, When Alana re- turned, Dalphon, one of the Moorish soldiery, accompanied him. The latter uttered an excla- mation of joy as he perceived the broad chest of the prostrate man heaving with gentle andregu- lar breathing. “ Basilio safe; the princess unharmed. Now may we show ourselves at the Alhambra, with- out fear of the bowstring, Allah be praised |” ejaculated he, Six Idefonse had lost no word of his, although he appeared entirely absorbed by his humane task. “Ye took the flask from his servant, moist- ened the pale lips, and sprinkled the water freely over the ghastly face, while he laid his handkerchief, drenched with the cool water, on the gray head. Their earnest efforts were rewarded by the abrupt unclosing of the lids, and the swift inter- rogating glance of a pair of keen, piercing eyes, of a clear hazel hue, From Dalphon the eyes returned again to the handsome face of the youthful knight. A frown knit the broad forehead, andan angry glow, burning out of the eye, kindled his doun- tenance into instant light. a “How now, knavo!” cried he, striving inef- fectually to rise. “Do you stand dallying with me, while the princess has been varried off ?” “The lady is safe,” exclaimed Sir Idefonse, seeing that Dalphon’s servile fear of his lead- ers anger kept him mute, once back and footstool. com cbooks.co ie ae