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For three long and anxious months did the
good knight Pelistes and his cavaliers defend
their sacred asylum against the repeated assaults
of the infidels. The standard of the true faith
was constantly displayed from the loftiest tower,
and a fire blazed there throughout the night, as
signals of distress to the surrounding country.
The watchman from his turret kept a wary look
out over the land, hoping in every cloud of dust
to descry the glittering helms of christian warriors.
The country, however, was forlorn and
abandoned, or if perchance a human being was
perceived, it was some Arab horseman, careering
the plain of the Guadalquivir as fearlessly as
if it were his native desert.

By degrees the provisions of the convent were
consumed, and the cavaliers had to slay their
horses, one by one, for food. They suffered the
wasting miseries of famine without a murmur,
and always met their commander with a smile.
Pelistes, however, read their sufferings in their
wan and emaciated countenances, and felt more

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for them than for himself. He was grieved at
heart that such loyalty and valour should only
lead to slavery or death, and resolved to make
one desperate attempt for their deliverance.
Assembling them one day in the court of the convent,
he disclosed to them his purpose.

“Comrades and brothers in arms,” said he,
“it is needless to conceal danger from brave
men. Our case is desperate; our countrymen
either know not or heed not our situation, or
have not the means to help us. There is but one
chance of escape; it is full of peril, and, as your
leader, I claim the right to brave it. Tomorrow
at break of day I will sally forth and make for
the city gates at the moment of their being opened;
no one will suspect a solitary horseman; I
shall be taken for one of those recreant christians
who have basely mingled with the enemy.
If I succeed in getting out of the city I will hasten
to Toledo for assistance. In all events I shall
be back in less than twenty days. Keep a vigilant
look out toward the nearest mountain. If
you behold five lights blazing upon its summit,
be assured I am at hand with succour, and prepare
yourselves to sally forth upon the city as I
attack the gates. Should I fail in obtaining aid
I will return to die with you.”

When he had finished, his warriors would fain
have severally undertaken the enterprise, and

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they remonstrated against his exposing himself
to such peril; but he was not to be shaken from
his purpose. On the following morning, ere the
break of day, his horse was led forth, caparisoned,
into the court of the convent, and Pelistes
appeared in complete armour. Assembling his
cavaliers in the chapel, he prayed with them for
some time before the altar of the holy Virgin.
Then rising and standing in the midst of them,
“God knows, my companions,” said he, “whether
we have any longer a country; if not, better
were we in our graves. Loyal and true have
ye been to me, and loyal have ye been to my
son, even to the hour of his death; and grieved
am I that I have no other means of proving my
love for you, than by adventuring my worthless
life for your deliverance. All I ask of you before
I go, is a solemn promise to defend yourselves
to the last like brave men and christian
cavaliers, and never to renounce your faith, or
throw yourselves on the mercy of the renegado
Magued, or the traitor Julian.” They all pledged
their words, and took a solemn oath to the same
effect before the altar.

Pelistes then embraced them one by one, and
gave them his benediction, and as he did so his
heart yearned over them, for he felt towards
them, not merely as a companion in arms and as
a commander, but as a father; and he took leave

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of them as if he had been going to his death.
The warriors, on their part, crowded round him
in silence, kissing his hands and the hem of his
surcoat, and many of the sternest shed tears.

The gray of the dawning had just streaked
the east, when Pelistes took lance in hand, hung
his shield about his neck, and mounting his steed,
issued quietly forth from a postern of the convent.
He paced slowly through the vacant
streets, and the tramp of his steed echoed afar in
that silent hour; but no one suspected a warrior,
moving thus singly and tranquilly in an armed
city, to be an enemy. He arrived at the gate
just at the hour of opening; a foraging party was
entering with cattle and with beasts of burden,
and he passed unheeded through the throng.
As soon as he was out of sight of the soldiers
who guarded the gate, he quickened his pace,
and at length, galloping at full speed, succeeded
in gaining the mountains. Here he paused, and
alighted at a solitary farm house to breathe his
panting steed; but had scarce put foot to ground
when he heard the distant sound of pursuit, and
beheld a horseman spurring up the mountain.

Throwing himself again upon his steed, he
abandoned the road and galloped across the
rugged heights. The deep dry channel of a torrent
checked his career, and his horse stumbling
upon the margin, rolled with his rider to the

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bottom. Pelistes was sorely bruised by the fall,
and his whole visage was bathed in blood. His
horse, too, was maimed and unable to stand, so
that there was no hope of escape. The enemy
drew near, and proved to be no other than Magued
the renegado general, who had perceived
him as he issued forth from the city and had followed
singly in pursuit. “Well met, señor
alcayde!” exclaimed he, “and overtaken in
good time. Surrender yourself my prisoner.”

Pelistes made no other reply than by drawing
his sword, bracing his shield, and preparing
for defence. Magued, though an apostate,
and a fierce warrior, possessed some sparks of
knightly magnanimity. Seeing his adversary
dismounted, he disdained to take him at a disadvantage,
but, alighting, tied his horse to a
tree.

The conflict that ensued was desperate and
doubtful, for seldom had two warriors met so well
matched or of equal prowess. Their shields were
hacked to pieces, the ground was strewed with
fragments of their armour, and stained with their
blood. They paused repeatedly to take breath;
regarding each other with wonder and admiration.
Pelistes, however, had been previously
injured by his fall, and fought to great disadvantage.
The renegado perceived it, and sought
not to slay him, but to take him alive. Shifting

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his ground continually, he wearied his antagonist,
who was growing weaker and weaker from the
loss of blood. At length Pelistes seemed to
summon up all his remaining strength to make a
signal blow; it was skilfully parried, and he fell
prostrate upon the ground. The renegado ran
up, and putting his foot upon his sword, and the
point of his scimitar to his throat, called upon
him to ask his life; but Pelistes lay without
sense, and as one dead. Magued then unlaced
the helmet of his vanquished enemy, and seated
himself on a rock beside him, to recover breath.
In this situation the warriors were found by
certain moorish cavaliers, who marvelled much
at the traces of that stern and bloody combat.

Finding there was yet life in the christian
knight, they laid him upon one of their horses,
and aiding Magued to remount his steed, proceeded
slowly to the city. As the convoy
passed by the convent, the cavaliers looked
forth and beheld their commander borne along
bleeding and a captive. Furious at the sight,
they sallied forth to the rescue, but were repulsed
by a superior force and driven back to
the great portal of the church. The enemy entered
pell mell with them, fighting from aisle to
aisle, from altar to altar, and in the courts and
cloisters of the convent. The greater part of
the cavaliers died bravely, sword in hand; the

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rest were disabled with wounds and made prisoners.
The convent, which was lately their
castle, was now made their prison, and in aftertimes,
in commemoration of this event, was consecrated
by the name of St. George of the Captives.

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