Meanwhile the evening darkened, the shout and the roar grew gradually
less loud and loud---the battle had ceased--the stragglers had joined
their several standards and, by the light of the first star, the Moorish
force, bearing their wounded brethren, and elated with success,
re-entered the gates of Granada, as the black charger of the hero of the
day, closing the rear of the cavalry, disappeared within the gloomy
portals.




CHAPTER III.

THE HERO IN THE POWER OF THE DREAMER.

It was in the same chamber, and nearly at the same hour, in which we
first presented to the reader Boabdil el Chico, that we are again
admitted to the presence of that ill-starred monarch. He was not alone.
His favourite slave, Amine, reclined upon the ottomans, gazing with
anxious love upon his thoughtful countenance, as he leant against the
glittering wall by the side of the casement, gazing abstractedly on the
scene below.

From afar he heard the shouts of the populace at the return of Muza, and
bursts of artillery confirmed the tidings of triumph which had already
been borne to his ear.

"May the king live for ever!" said Amine, timidly; "his armies have gone
forth to conquer."