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"you are those men of England who boarded the _San Antonio_ and escaped
when she was sinking, are you not?"
Castell nodded, then answered:
"We boarded her to seek----"
"Never mind what you sought," the captain answered; "the names of
exalted ladies should not be mentioned before strange men. But you have
been in trouble again since then, at the inn yonder, where this tall
senor bore himself very bravely. Oh! we have heard all the story, and
give him honour who can wield a sword so well in the dark."
"We thank you," said Castell, "but what is your business with us?"
"Senor, we are sent by our master, his Excellency, the high Lord and
Marquis of Morella, to find you and bring you to be his guests
"So the priest has told. I thought as much," muttered Peter.
"We pray you to come without trouble, as we do not wish to do any
violence to such gallant men," went on the captain. "Be pleased to mount
two of these horses, and ride with us."
"I am a merchant, with friends of my own at Granada," answered Castell.
"Cannot we go to them, who do not seek the hospitality of the marquis?"
"Senor, our orders are otherwise, and here the word of our master, the
marquis, is a law that may not be broken."
"I thought that Boabdil was king of Granada," said Castell.
"Without doubt he is king, Senor, and by the grace of Allah will remain
so, but the marquis is allied to him in blood; also, while the truce
lasts, he is a representative of their Majesties of Spain in our city,"
and, at a sign, two of the Moors dismounted and led forward their
horses, holding the stirrups, and offering to help them to the saddle.
"There is nothing for it," said Peter; "we must go." So, awkwardly
enough, for they were very stiff, they climbed on to the beasts and rode
away with their captors.
The sun was sinking now, for they had slept long, and by the time they
reached the gates of Granada the muezzins were calling to the sunset
prayer from the minarets of the mosques.
It was but a very dim and confused idea that Peter gathered of the great
city of the Moors, as, surrounded by their white-robed escort, he rode
he knew not whither. Narrow winding streets, white houses, shuttered
windows, crowds of courteous, somewhat silent people, all men, and all
clad in those same strange, flowing dresses, who looked at them
curiously, and murmured words which afterwards he came to learn meant
"Christian prisoners," or sometimes "Christian dogs"; fretted and
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