“But the crusaders were sometimes defeated,” said Fernando.
“Ah, my lord, doubtless they had not the true spirit,” said Northberry, with something of earnestness, carried off by the apparent sneer.
Fernando moved away towards his brother, and, pulling his sleeve to attract his attention, repeated some of the foregoing conversation.
“Did Enrique think it possible that they might be defeated?”
“Surely,” said Enrique, “it is possible, if it were God’s will, but,” he added, colouring with enthusiasm, “I think, we are so well prepared, it is not likely.”
“But could it be God’s will that the infidels should triumph?”
“Why, yes,” said Enrique; “you do not think what you say. It is His will that we should offer ourselves to his service; but it is not always His will to give us the victory. Else there would have been no martyrdoms. But yet,” he continued, with the grave ardour peculiar to him, “there is a blessing on zeal and self-devotion. I, for one, would risk the result!”
Fernando looked satisfied, and then demanded if Enrique thought that the Moors were really man-eaters.
No; Enrique did not think so. They were very cruel and treacherous; kept no faith with Christians; but they were not, so far as he understood, savages. In fact, he hardly thought that they would treat prisoners of distinction otherwise than well.
“What else?” he added, smiling, as Fernando still looked thoughtful.