But the evil star of Boabdil prevailed. The news of the insurrection in
the city reached him. Two aged men from the lower city arrived at the
Alhambra--demanded and obtained an audience; and the effect of that
interview was instantaneous upon Boabdil. In the popular frenzy he saw
only a justifiable excuse for the Christian king to break the conditions
of the treaty, rase the city, and exterminate the inhabitants. Touched
by a generous compassion for his subjects, and actuated no less by a high
sense of kingly honor, which led him to preserve a truce solemnly sworn
to, he once more mounted his cream-coloured charger, with the two elders
who had sought him by his side; and, at the head of his guard, rode from
the Alhambra. The sound of his trumpets, the tramp of his steeds, the
voice of his heralds, simultaneously reached the multitude; and, ere they
had leisure to decide their course, the king was in the midst of them.

"What madness is this, O my people?" cried Boabdil, spurring into the
midst of the throng,--"whither would ye go?"

"Against the Christian!--against the Goth!" shouted a thousand voices.
"Lead us on! The santon is risen from the dead, and will ride by thy
right hand!"

"Alas!" resumed the king, "ye would march against the Christian king!
Remember that our hostages are in his power: remember that he will desire
no better excuse to level Granada with the dust, and put you and your
children to the sword. We have made such treaty as never yet was made
between foe and foe. Your lives, laws, wealth--all are saved. Nothing
is lost, save the crown of Boabdil. I am the only sufferer. So be it.
My evil star brought on you these evil destinies: without me, you may
revive, and be once more a nation. Yield to fate to-day, and you may