"I fear I must give her up," said Caterina, "though Perez lent her the dagger to defend you, and she has returned it. I was beginning to grow fond of her. She must be corrected, Signora."
"Well, truly, I think she must. Let me speak to her first. I dare say she is as hard as a stone. Call her."
To the Duchess's surprise, when Cynthia was brought to the bar of justice, and accused of lèse-majesté, she at once pleaded guilty, saying her proud heart sometimes got the better of her; and kneeling down, kissed the hem of her mistress's garment, in token of submission. This appeased the placable Giulia, who contented herself with asking what business she had with pride.
"You doubted my fidelity, Leila," said Cynthia. "No one must doubt the fidelity of an Abencerrage."
"Tut! how do I know that you are an Abencerrage?" said the Duchess lightly. "And what are the Abencerrages, or any other Moors, in the eyes of Christians?"
"They may be nothing now, but they were something once," said Cynthia proudly; without rising, however, from her knees; or rather, sitting upon her heels. "While the western Caliphate lasted, the Christians were few and straggling in the land; and the mountains of Spain echoed back the cry of the muezzins: 'There is no God but God, and Mahomet is his prophet!'"
"Ah, profanity!" exclaimed the Duchess, in disgust; and at the same instant, her seneschal, bowing low, announced to her the arrival of Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici. The Cardinal was already standing in the doorway, noting at his leisure, and with admiration, the contrast between Giulia's high-born beauty and that of the dusky Moorish girl at her feet.
He then advanced, with the mien of a prince and the tread of a soldier, and said:
"Your peril compelled me to fly to your succour. I have brought a troop of horse, and will not leave you till danger and alarm be past."
"How very good of you!" said the Duchess. "I was, indeed, sorely scared—"