"God save my brave brother!" muttered Villena, anxiously. "Amen," said
those around him; for all who had ever witnessed the wildest valour in
that war, trembled as they recognised the dazzling robe and coal-black
charger of Muza Ben Abil Gazan. Nor was that renowned infidel mated with
an unworthy foe. "Pride of the tournament, and terror of the war," was
the favourite title which the knights and ladies of Castile had bestowed
on Don Alonzo de Pacheco.

When the Spaniard saw the redoubted Moor approach, he halted abruptly for
a moment, and then, wheeling his horse around, took a wider circuit, to
give additional impetus to his charge. The Moor, aware of his purpose,
halted also, and awaited the moment of his rush; when once more he darted
forward, and the combatants met with a skill which called forth a cry of
involuntary applause from the Christians themselves. Muza received on
the small surface of his shield the ponderous spear of Alonzo, while his
own light lance struck upon the helmet of the Christian, and by the
exactness of the aim rather than the weight of the blow, made Alonzo reel
in his saddle.

The lances were thrown aside--the long broad falchion of the Christian,
the curved Damascus cimiter of the Moor, gleamed in the air. They reined
their chargers opposite each other in grave and deliberate silence.

"Yield thee, sir knight!" at length cried the fierce Moor, "for the motto
on my cimiter declares that if thou meetest its stroke, thy days are
numbered. The sword of the believer is the Key of Heaven and Hell."
--[Such, says Sale, is the poetical phrase of the Mohammedan divines.]

"False Paynim," answered Alonzo, in a voice that rung hollow through his
helmet, "a Christian knight is the equal of a Moorish army!"