These vigorous measures produced an unexpected result. Not willing to incur the hazard of an attack, and their provisions falling short, the Almoravides, whose watch-fires could already be seen from the towers of the city, retired. Dismay and terror now filled the minds of the Valencians. Unable to protect themselves, they knew not where to turn for aid. Ibn-Tahir, the chief magistrate, did not possess the talents necessary to inspire confidence in such a trying emergency, and his unpopularity reflected upon his family. The tribe of the Beni-Tahir was one of the oldest, the wealthiest, the most honorable in Valencia. But these considerations for public favor could not preserve it from the effects of the incompetency of its chief and the unreasoning fury of the multitude. Ibn-Tahir was deposed, and Ibn-Djahhaf, who, for his own ends, had diligently encouraged the prevailing discontent, was raised to power. A mob attacked the palace of the Beni-Tahir, and the members of that noble family were stoned, insulted, subjected to the most humiliating indignities, and finally sent in chains to the camp of the Cid. The latter offered his protection to Ibn-Djahhaf on the same terms upon which it had formerly been accorded to Kadir, but as he exacted the delivery of his son as a hostage, a condition which the suspicious Arab refused to accede to, negotiations were abruptly terminated. The army of the Cid now closely invested the city, which, unprepared for a siege, was soon exposed to the most frightful of calamities. The sufferings of the inhabitants became intense. The increasing famine caused the most disgusting substances, the most repulsive animals, to be eagerly devoured. Men fought for refuse in the turbid current of the sewers. A rat, esteemed a great delicacy, could hardly be procured for a piece of gold. The wealthy could still obtain a small amount of grain, which was jealously hoarded by its owners and only disposed of in small quantities and at fabulous prices. An ounce of barley sold readily for three dinars. When this supply was exhausted, they endeavored to sustain their failing strength with pieces of leather, leaves, bark, and such vegetation as could be gleaned in the gardens and court-yards of their mansions. The poor had no resource but cannibalism. In the midst of the universal distress, Ibn-Djahhaf, apparently unmindful of the future, maintained the state of a monarch. Within his gates there was no evidence of the want that was hourly driving thousands to despair and death, no sign of approaching retribution. His palace was the daily scene of literary discussions, of dances, of intoxication. A crowd of parasites enjoyed his bounty. The subsistence of the court was secured by the plunder of private granaries. The property of the dead and dying was confiscated. Remonstrance against this tyranny was punished with imprisonment. People fell and expired with hunger in the streets. Great crowds