“Alas,” said the hermit, “that it should be so! Have you not been taught, young man, in your own country that God is a surer defence to those who trust Him than those vain material bulwarks which men of blood erect against one another’s rage? Put your trust in God, I say, and He will be able to succour you, even through the least of His servants.”
“Were it the God of the Christians of whom you speak,” replied Fernando, “I would agree that your words were those of wisdom, but in the mouth of an unbeliever they have naught but a blasphemous ring.”
“Sir Knight,” said the hermit, “you are yet a young man, but as you grow older it will be given you to understand that God is the same in all lands, and that division of His personality is one of the fictions with which the Father of Lies seeks to make enmity between the righteous. Argue no longer, I pray you, but take heed to what I say. This remnant of stone is the last remaining turret of an ancient fortalice, beneath which extends a labyrinth of dungeons. Secrete yourselves speedily in the darkness of this labyrinth, I beg you, so that you may evade your pursuers and regain your own country after nightfall.”
“Have a care, Don Fernando,” cried one of the prince’s comrades. “This infidel seeks to beguile us into a trap, where his countrymen will be able to murder us at their leisure.”
“Not so,” replied the prince, “for I can see that the mind of this good and holy man holds a better purpose toward us, and I willingly yield myself to his care. Lead the way, good father, to the hiding-place of which you speak.” The hermit immediately requested the cavaliers to enter the building, and indicated to them a dark and sloping passage, down which they led their horses. They had scarcely had time to conceal themselves in the gloomy recesses to which it led when with a loud clamour the infidels who had been pursuing them rode up. Their leader challenged the hermit and asked him if he had observed any Christian knights pass that way. “Assuredly no Christian knights have passed this way, my son,” replied the man of God; “go in peace.” The Moslem captain with a grave salutation immediately remounted his horse, and the band swept on.
The hermit having entertained the Christian knights to the best of his poor resources, returned to them within a few hours and told them that darkness had now fallen. “You will now be able,” he said, “to make a safe return to your own land.”
“How can I reward you?” cried Fernando, whose generous heart had been deeply stirred by the old man’s unaffected kindness.
“There is one way in which you can do so, young cavalier,” said the recluse, “and that is by trying to form a better opinion of the men of my race.”
“You ask a difficult thing,” said the prince sadly, “for truth compels me to say that I have heard great evil of the Moors, and but little good.”
“That is not surprising,” said the hermit, with a smile, “since you will readily admit that you have not encountered them otherwise than with sword in hand or as prisoners whose hearts are burning with the bitterness of defeat. Open your mind, young man, or rather pray that its doors, until now closed, should be thrown wide to admit the rays of celestial wisdom. Seek for the best in your enemies, and believe me you will not fail to find it.”