De Claremont’s heart leaped at the last words, for he well remembered this habit of his lost brother. There could be no more doubt; Hugo was alive, and not far away!
“This seems a true picture of my lost comrade,” said he, as composedly as he could; “and whether it be he or no, it were a good deed to save so bold a warrior from captivity. Think’st thou, brave emir, thy king would set him free if I offer him thy freedom in exchange? I trow he hath in his host few like thee!”
El Zagal acknowledged the compliment with a stately bow, but his grave look showed that he doubted the success of the plan.
“Thy words are gracious as thy deeds, noble knight; but a servant of the Prophet cannot lie, and thou must hear the truth from me, though it be bitter as an unripe date. Our king might miss me, were I to return no more; but not for my ransom, nor for the best jewel in his crown, would he free yon slave, who is to work such ill to the hosts of the faithful.”
“But if, as thou say’st, the prophecy spake not of him, but of me, what boots it to hold him captive?”
“Most true. Yet it will not be easy to convince the king that it is so. But this will I do; I will write with mine hand a letter to the king, and tell him how the case standeth, and what terms thou dost ask for my ransom; and then let him do as Allah (God) shall guide him.”
The letter was sent off to Grenada at once, but for several weary weeks the impatient Alured waited in vain for an answer.
Trying as it was, however, this interval was not wasted; for, both from a wish to lighten his gallant foe’s captivity, and because the cultivated Moor was a pleasanter companion than his own rude spearmen, he improved his acquaintance with El Zagal till the two brave men, widely as they differed in all points, felt to each other as old friends rather than foes. Thus De Claremont gained a far better knowledge than before of the manners, customs, beliefs, and even superstitions of the Grenada Moors, which was hereafter to do him good service.
At last, as the two stood side by side on the walls one evening, watching the stormy sunset fade over the dark mountains, El Zagal said suddenly—
“Yonder comes a rider in the dress of my people, as one in haste!”