'Hold!' said Ryno. 'Why should we senselessly destroy that which, uninjured, would make one of us happy. Let us calmly and peacefully determine our respective claims by an appeal to argument and reason.'
'I never will resign my claim,' scornfully exclaimed Idallan. 'If you persist in yours, the sword must decide.'
Ryno.--You are my brother in arms, and wounded; I will not fight with you!
Idallan.--Has the struggle with the Moors already exhausted your stock of courage?
Ryno.--Idallan! Even this shall not provoke me!
Idallan in a rage seized the veil, which Ryno reluctantly released, to save it from destruction. He hung it upon a high branch, and placed himself before it with his sword drawn. 'The veil is mine, if you are too cowardly to contend for it.' The noble Ryno half drew his sword, but, recollecting himself, immediately returned it to its sheath, and was about to mount his horse.
'Do you slight me?' roared Idallan, running after him sword in hand. Ryno was compelled to turn and draw, and a furious battle commenced over the dead bodies of the Moors. The attack and defence were conducted on both sides with equal courage and skill, so that neither obtained any advantage over the other. Sparks flew at every encounter of their weapons, the frightened birds flew screaming from the place, and the timid deer fled to the protection of the remotest thickets.
CHAPTER III.
Under a natural arch of primeval granite, in the most secluded recess of a wild and savage mountain, was situated the deeply indented cave of the sorceress, Hiorba. The cavern was filled with sieves and cauldrons, mummies and bundles of herbs, hieroglyphics and mirrors, crystal globes and crocodiles, in mystical confusion. Two torches, held by skeleton hands, lighted the whole. In a circle of strange characters and human bones, lay the aged and despairing Hiorba, her face to the ground, frantically tearing the last remains of her silver hair with her withered hands. Two large black cats were caressingly and soothingly purring about her. Suddenly she appeared to be shaken as by an electric shock. She arose with flashing eyes, stretched out her magic wand towards the largest of the mirrors, and murmured some words of unknown meaning. Strange confused images appeared upon the clear crystal. As she anxiously watched the figures her interest seemed to increase every moment, and every moment her joy became more plainly visible, until at length she gave a cry of ecstatic delight as Aliande and Daura, her charming foster-daughters, rushed breathlessly into the cave.
'Here we are, good mother,' cried Daura, embracing her with ardor.