"My horse did not gallop fast enough," replied the child.
"Well, then," said Fernan, "get ready for a second charge, and take care not to miss your aim."
"You will see, you will see how I shall hit the mark this time."
The little Moor got ready again, and Fernan pulled the cord more rapidly than before; Ismael, however, made the thrust too soon, and went even farther from the mark than on the first occasion.
"By the soul of Beelzebub," cried the squire, stamping fiercely on the ground, "that would put holy Job himself out of patience. He thinks, I suppose, that he will do better by making his thrusts too soon."
"I won't charge any more now," said the boy, more vexed by his own want of dexterity than by the annoyance of Fernan. Then throwing away the tin cover and the stick, he began to run back to the place from which the squire had taken him.
"Come back, my son, come back," cried Fernan; but it was in vain, for Ismael was already with Lambra and Mayor.
"Curses on my impatience!" exclaimed Fernan, giving himself a cuff on the side of his head. "What else could the poor little fellow do but run away from me, when I treated him worse than a slave?"
He then went off in search of the little Moor, and shortly afterwards they were playing together as if both were children.
Whilst Fernan was thus amusing himself with Ismael, another scene, not less interesting, was being performed in a large apartment, in which the De Vivar family usually assembled. Rodrigo was relating to his parents and to his wife the innumerable brave deeds of his soldiers at the battle of Oca, remaining silent as to his own, for the noble cavalier was as modest as he was valiant. He spoke also of the bravery of the enemy, for he was so just and honourable that he could not refrain from praising merit wherever it might be found.