Eleazar gnawed his beard. “Is it not already loose?” he asked drily. “Have you gone further than I know?” “What do you know?” “You are so far as that, then? Well! It is all over with my beautiful Spain!” “Nothing comes to an end; it only changes when its time is over. Spain had its time when it gave Emperors to Rome--Trajan, Hadrian, Antonius, Marcus Aurelius, Theodosius, who may just as likely have been Iberians and Phoenicians. Spain gave Rome learned men and poets, Seneca, Lucan, Martial, Quintilian, Pomponius, Mela, Columella. That is now five hundred years ago, and now we have had barbarism introduced by the Christian Norsemen from the Baltic. Now we might use something Oriental!” “Do you believe on the future of Islam?” “Yes, certainly. Mussa has sworn that he will march by Hannibal’s route through Gaul and Germany to Rome, in order to turn the ‘heathen and women-worshippers’ to the one true God.” “You know that! Then there is no turning back.” “No! It is too late. On the 19th of July the half-moon rises over Spain, and it will continue to wax through its phases to the full moon. What follows then we know not, and have nothing to do with, for One rules--the Lord Zebaoth.” * * * * * On the 17th of July, 711 A.D., when it had become dark, fire was kindled on the southernmost point of Spain, Punta de Europa. On the African coast, two miles distant, this was answered by a similar signal. A west wind blew from the Atlantic, and brought across the fleet of the Saracens, with five thousand men and horses. On the Punta de Europa, afterwards called Gibraltar, high above the precipitous cliff stood long-bearded citizens, and fanned the fire and threw fuel on it. In the morning the first troops landed at the foot of the cliff, and the conquest of Spain by the Moors began. Mussa ibn Nazir came on the following day with the chief body. The King of the West Goths assembled as rapidly as possible a hundred thousand men, and, believing himself invincible, marched thither to view the victory. Clothed in silk and gold, like a Byzantine Emperor, he lay in a chariot of ivory drawn by two white mules, and followed by his attendants and the women of his harem. For three days all went well, but on the fourth day, something unexpected happened. Shut in between the mountains and rivers of Andalusia, his troops could hardly move, and the King had encamped on the bank of the Guadalete. Then he saw his people pouring down like a stream from the heights--one division under Archbishop Oppas, the other under Count Julius.