its relief a considerable force; and that the army of Ferdinand was on
its march against the Moorish king. In the midst of the excitement
occasioned by these reports, a courier arrived to confirm their truth,
and to announce the return of Boabdil.

At nightfall, the king, preceding his army, entered the city, and
hastened to bury himself in the Alhambra. As he passed dejectedly into
the women's apartments, his stern mother met him.

"My son," she said, bitterly, "dost thou return and not a conqueror?"

Before Boabdil could reply, a light and rapid step sped through the
glittering arcades; and weeping with joy, and breaking all the Oriental
restraints, Amine fell upon his bosom. "My beloved! my king! light of
mine eyes! thou hast returned. Welcome--for thou art safe."

The different form of these several salutations struck Boabdil forcibly.
"Thou seest, my mother," said he, "how great the contrast between those
who love us from affection, and those who love us from pride. In
adversity, God keep me, O my mother, from thy tongue!"

"But I love thee from pride, too," murmured Amine; "and for that reason
is thine adversity dear to me, for it takes thee from the world to make
thee more mine own and I am proud of the afflictions that my hero shares
with his slave."

"Lights there, and the banquet!" cried the king, turning from his haughty
mother; "we will feast and be merry while we may. My adored Amine, kiss
me!"