"And of course he met his death?" interrupted the Chief.
"He did, after a long struggle, for a more desperate man we have seldom seen! he now dangles on a tree, like many others of his countrymen, a fit scarecrow to rambling adventurers."
"Proceed—" said Cañeri gravely.
"A moment after," resumed Malique, "chance led us to the spot where another Christian slept in fancied security."
"And didst thou slay the wretch?" inquired the Chief.
"No, most noble Cañeri. It was a female, and therefore I brought her here, for she is a most bewitching creature—such as seldom meets the enamoured gaze of an enraptured lover. The rose in its opening bloom looks not more lovely in the garden of the faithful, than this beauteous captive. Indeed the fascination of her person is peculiarly striking, though at present the gloom that preys upon her mind, tends considerably to diminish the lustre of her charms. Still I thought she might find favor in the sight of our illustrious Chief, and be honored with his smile."
"A young Christian maiden," cried Cañeri, "sleeping in the Alpujarras!—'tis strange!—how came she there? Malique, didst thou learn? Knowest thou the nature of her sorrows?"
"Yes," answered Malique,—"she bitterly deplores the fate of him we slew. Apparently, he was a husband or a lover. At all events the Christian people cannot boast of a nobler or braver warrior."
"Knowest thou his name?" demanded Cañeri.
"I learnt it," replied Malique, "from the captive herself;—it is Don Lope Gomez Arias."