CHAPTER XXVII

An Astounding Revelation

It was now El Zagal’s turn to be amazed at the effect that his words produced on his foeman; for Alured grew pale as death, and swayed in his saddle as if stunned by a blow.

But instantly the wary Englishman was himself again, for the caution taught him by a two years’ struggle with the endless wiles of Moslem war, warned him at once of the imprudence of betraying such emotion before an enemy. Rallying his wonderful self-command, he said with perfect steadiness—

“Marvel not, valiant emir, if thy words amaze me; for, in truth, a good knight of mine own land, who was as like to me as my image in a glass, hath long been accounted dead, and I myself deemed I had seen him slain with my own eyes. If he be yet alive, it is as great a marvel as ever minstrel’s lay hath told.”

This explanation was all the more satisfactory to the emir, that (as his next words showed) it agreed with his own opinion.

“As truly as the Prophet (may his name be exalted!) made the full moon pass through the sleeves of his mantle, it must be as thou sayest, O Christian. At Grenada all men say that this slave of whom I speak hath indeed been raised from the dead, and that no weapon hath power to harm him, even as they say of thee.”

“Know’st thou,” asked Alured, “the land of his birth, or the name he bore?”

But El Zagal shook his head, and frankly owned that he knew nothing of either.

“At some fitter season, then,” said De Claremont, “I will gladly hear all thou canst tell me of him, for I would fain learn if he be in truth my ancient comrade: but now must we go hence with speed, lest we be assailed in turn. Lo! I give thee back thy good blade, which none can wield so well; and if thou wilt pledge thy word to be true prisoner till rescued or ransomed, thou shalt ride among us free and unfettered.”

The Moor’s handsome face brightened at a courtesy that he could well appreciate, the civilized Moslems of Spain having a chivalry of their own, wholly wanting to the savage and ignorant Turks who were then hewing their way into the Greek Empire of Constantinople. He at once gave the required pledge; and when they were clear of the perilous pass, and riding down the northern side of the range to the border fortress of Santa Fé (Holy Faith), then garrisoned by Alured and his men, the emir told freely all he knew of the mysterious captive of Grenada.

He had been bought at Seville by one of the king’s purveyors, some years before, from the crew of a Barbary corsair, who had taken him with a captured Christian ship, after a long and hard fight, which cost them half their number. In this combat the nameless captive had performed prodigies of valour, fighting so desperately that even when sorely wounded, and assailed by five or six at once, he held out for some time after the rest of his comrades. At last he was struck down, and, as every one thought, slain; but when the deck was cleared, he was found still alive, to the amazement of the pirates, who thenceforth treated him with the utmost care, not only on account of the high price such a slave would fetch, but from a superstitious awe of one over whom death seemed to have no power.

“When he came to Grenada,” went on the emir, “he found favour with our king, who loveth strong and valiant men; and he named him ‘El Katoom’ (the strong), and would have had him take the faith of Islam, and be a captain of our host, as being a mighty man of valour. But the Christian said nay; and then was the king wroth, and laid before him the holy Koran and a sharp sword, and bade him choose between them. But the Christian said that he feared not death, and that the king might slay him if he would; but that it was ill done for a king to bid any man do what, in like case, he would not do himself. Then the king marvelled and let him be, and to this day he dwells in the palace unharmed, and all men wonder at him.”

“He is a brave man, be he who he may,” said De Claremont, with sparkling eyes. “Said’st thou, noble emir, that he is not suffered to go forth even of the palace gates?”

“Even so; for a certain wise man read in the stars that it was the fate of one like this slave to do much ill to the servants of the Prophet. Howbeit, methinks that prophecy spake of thee rather than of him; for thou art made in the same likeness as himself, and truly thy sword hath been mighty against the hosts of the faithful.”

Alured made no reply, and seemed lost in thought; and when they entered the fortress, the knight, after seeing the sentries relieved, the rescued captives cared for, and the emir lodged in a commodious upper room near his own, withdrew to think over, as calmly as he could, the astounding possibility of this mysterious slave being his lost brother Hugo, of whose blood he had till now believed himself guilty.

The more he thought of it, the more likely it seemed. Though he had seen Hugo fall, he had no proof of his death, having fled from the spot without looking behind him. And could there be two men in the world so exactly like himself, not only in face and form, but even in look and voice?

Nor was it hard to find an answer to the question how Hugo—if Hugo it were—after being left for dead at Calais, could have reappeared alive in Seville. He well remembered—for every detail of that fatal day was indelibly stamped on his memory—the Black Prince’s charge to him and his brother to watch the shore against a descent of the corsairs who infested the coast. Had some of these rovers landed and found a man in rich armour lying seemingly dead, their first thought would have been to strip him, and then, finding him still alive, to carry him off for ransom or sale as a slave. That the ship taken by the Barbary pirates was one of these corsairs, with Hugo on board, Alured had little doubt, for no peaceful trader could have so long resisted the superior numbers of the Africans, and the unknown Christian’s heroic and long-sustained combat against such fearful odds was just what might be expected of his gallant brother. Lastly, the captive’s strict confinement within the palace walls explained why Hugo—if it were he—had never sent word home that he was still alive.

Putting all this together, he felt sure that his wild guess was right, and his heart bounded with such a thrill of joy as had not pulsed through it for many a weary day.

“If this,” cried he, “be indeed the blessing of which good Brother Michael spake as awaiting me here in the south, he said truly, for all I have were a cheap price to pay for the knowledge that I am free of my brother’s blood, and may yet find him again!”

He lost no time in questioning the emir as to the personal habits and peculiarities of “El Katoom,” and learned that he had the lofty bearing of a man of high birth, that he excelled in all exercises, especially riding, and that, when in deep thought, he was wont to twist his hair round the forefinger of his left hand.

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!”

In fact, the solitary rider who had just come dashing over the crest of a far-off ridge in the last glow of sunset, neared them so fast that the emir’s keen eye was soon able to recognize the messenger he had sent to Grenada; and Alured, with undisguised impatience, hurried down to hear his all-important tidings.

But the reply, for which he had waited so long, crushed all his hopes at one blow; for the king sternly refused to give up “the slave El Katoom” on any terms whatever!