The blind man continued his ballad, calling for vengeance on him who had stolen his daughter.
"You have already been avenged!" said solemnly some of the listeners, amongst whom was Rui-Venablos, for all of them knew of the tragic end of Sancha, and of the unhappy life to which Don Suero Gonzalez was condemned.
The Cid approached the mendicant and said to him—
"Old man, if the sword of a cavalier has not struck the head of the Count of Carrion, the justice of God has sentenced him to misery, to infamy, to loneliness, and to despair, which are worse than death. Your daughter disowned you, and ceased thinking of you almost as soon as she was separated from you; but she also has suffered the chastisement which her crimes deserved. Do not weep for her: she merits oblivion and not your curse. Have you not a family which will console your grief and support your old age? Yes, you will find such in my castle. Get into one of the litters, and come to share the happiness which smiles on the lords of Vivar."
The old man then got into a litter, weeping with gratitude and joy, and the travellers continued their way, all joyous, contented, and happy, for even Fernan and Mayor were beginning to make peace.
THE END.
M. H. GILL AND SON, DUBLIN.