But at a short distance from Burgos, Rodrigo and his squire distinguished, in a south-easterly direction, a dense column of smoke ascending towards the sky, and in succession farther on they saw another in the same direction.
They were the smoke signals which were lit on the watch-towers, in order to give warning whenever the Moors crossed the frontiers.
"The Moors have crossed the Moncayo!" exclaimed Rodrigo. "Before avenging injuries done to myself, I must avenge those against God, the king, and my country. Fernan, let us return to Burgos."
"Yes, let us return," replied Fernan, "and make preparations for an expedition against the Moorish power. As God lives, my heart is almost bursting my breast with joy. It is a long time now, my beloved lance, since thy temper was restored by the blood of those Moslem dogs. Ah, and what splendid thrusts thou wilt give! And you, sir, will have splendid spoils to lay at the feet of my lady Doña Ximena!"
"Fernan," cried Rodrigo, with enthusiasm, "I must have a throne, that Ximena may sit on it! I must have Moorish queens to wait on her!"
And, guiding Babieca close to his squire's horse, he held forth his hand to Fernan, and said warmly—
"Fernan, this hand which clasps yours, and the heart which I feel beating in my breast, shall win a throne and subjugate Moorish queens!"
Fernan, on hearing the words of his master, and on receiving the pressure of his hand, felt a tear trickle down his rough and sunburned cheek.
[1] The place on which stands the original mansion of a noble family.
[2] An old Spanish expression.