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Taric ben Zeyad had been surprised by the
valour of the christian cavaliers in the recent battles,
and at the number and apparent devotion of
the troops which accompanied the king to the
field. The confident defiance of Don Roderick,
increased his surprise. When the herald had retired,
he turned an eye of suspicion on Count
Julian. “Thou hast represented thy countrymen,”
said he, “as sunk in effeminacy and lost to
all generous impulse; yet I find them fighting
with the courage and the strength of lions. Thou
hast represented thy king as detested by his subjects
and surrounded by secret treason, but I behold
his tents whitening the hills and dales, while
thousands are hourly flocking to his standard.
Woe unto thee if thou hast dealt deceitfully with
us, or betrayed us with guileful words.”

Don Julian retired to his tent in great trouble
of mind, and fear came upon him that the Bishop
Oppas might play him false; for it is the lot of
traitors ever to distrust each other. He called

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to him the same page who had brought him the
letter from Florinda, revealing the story of her
dishonour.

“Thou knowest, my trusty page,” said he,
“that I have reared thee in my household, and
cherished thee above all thy companions. If
thou hast loyalty and affection for thy lord, now
is the time to serve him. Hie thee to the christian
camp, and find thy way to the tent of the
Bishop Oppas. If any one ask thee who thou
art, tell them thou art of the household of the
bishop, and bearer of missives from Cordova.
When thou art admitted to the presence of the
bishop, show him this ring, and he will commune
with thee in secret. Then tell him Count Julian
greets him as a brother, and demands how the
wrongs of his daughter Florinda are to be redressed.
Mark well his reply, and bring it word for
word. Have thy lips closed, but thine eyes and
ears open; and observe every thing of note in
the camp of the king. So, speed thee on thy
errand—away, away!”

The page hastened to saddle a Barbary steed,
fleet as the wind, and of a jet black colour, so as
not to be easily discernable in the night. He
girded on a sword and dagger, slung an Arab
bow with a quiver of arrows at his side, and a
buckler at his shoulder. Issuing out of the
camp, he sought the banks of the Guadalete, and

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proceeded sliently along its stream, which reflected
the distant fires of the christian camp.
As he passed by the place which had been the
scene of the recent conflict, he heard, from time
to time, the groan of some expiring warrior who
had crawled among the reeds on the margin of
the river; and sometimes his steed stepped
cautiously over the mangled bodies of the slain.
The young page was unused to the sights of war,
and his heart beat quick within him. He was
hailed by the sentinels as he approached the
christian camp, and, on giving the reply taught
him by Count Julian, was conducted to the tent
of the Bishop Oppas.

The bishop had not yet retired to his couch.
When he beheld the ring of Count Julian, and
heard the words of his message, he saw that the
page was one in whom he might confide. “Hasten
back to thy lord,” said he, “and tell him to
have faith in me and all shall go well. As yet
I have kept my troops out of the combat. They
are all fresh, well armed, and well appointed.
The king has confided to myself, aided by the
princes Evan and Siseburto, the command of
a wing of the army. Tomorrow, at the hour of
noon, when both armies are in the heat of action,
we will pass over with our forces to the moslems.
But I claim the compact made with
Taric ben Zeyad, that my nephews be placed in

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dominion over Spain, and tributary only to the
Caliph of Damascus.” With this traitorous message
the page departed. He led his black steed
by the bridle to present less mark for observation,
as he went stumbling along near the expiring
fires of the camp. On passing the last
outpost, when the guards were half slumbering
on their arms, he was overheard and summoned,
but leaped lightly into the saddle and put spurs
to his steed. An arrow whistled by his ear, and
two more stuck in the target which he had
thrown upon his back. The clatter of swift
hoofs echoed behind him, but he had learnt of
the Arabs to fight and fly. Plucking a shaft from
his quiver, and turning and rising in the stirrups
as his courser galloped at full speed, he drew
the arrow to the head and launched it at his pursuer.
The twang of the bow-string was followed
by the crash of armour, and a deep groan, as
the horseman tumbled to the earth. The page
pursued his course without further molestation,
and arrived at the moslem camp before the
break of day.

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