died in murmurs. A faint flush overspread the features of Boabdil, and
there was a momentary pause of embarrassment which the Moor was the first
to break.

"Fair queen," said he, with mournful and pathetic dignity; "thou canst
read the heart that thy generous sympathy touches and subdues: this is
thy last, nor least glorious, conquest. But I detain ye: let not my
aspect cloud your triumph. Suffer me to say farewell."

"May we not hint at the blessed possibility of conversion?" whispered the
pious queen through her tears to her royal consort.

"Not now--not now, by St. Iago!" returned Ferdinand, quickly, and in the
same tone, willing himself to conclude a painful conference. He then
added, aloud, "Go, my brother, and fair fortune with you! Forget the
past."

Boabdil smiled bitterly, saluted the royal pair with profound and silent
reverence, and rode slowly on, leaving the army below, as he ascended the
path that led to his new principality beyond the Alpuxarras. As the
trees snatched the Moorish cavalcade from the view of the king, Ferdinand
ordered the army to recommence its march; and trumpet and cymbal
presently sent their music to the ear of the Moslems.

Boabdil spurred on at full speed till his panting charger halted at the
little village where his mother, his slaves, and his faithful Amine (sent
on before) awaited him. Joining these, he proceeded without delay upon
his melancholy path.

They ascended that eminence which is the pass into the Alpuxarras. From