and disease and want began to invade the hostile camp. Then Alfonso determined to retreat. One way alone was open, for the mountains which separated him from his kingdom were already white with snow, and the active Moslems, anticipating a favorable turn of affairs, had long since occupied the passes in his rear. Abandoning his allies, who had sacrificed honor, allegiance, and liberty in obedience to his summons, the King of Aragon marched southward. Threading the perilous defiles of the Alpujarras, the Christians emerged at length upon the tropical coast of Velez-Malaga. The cavaliers of the inhospitable North were enchanted with the delightful prospect presented by the plantations of cotton and sugar, the groves of oranges and palms, and the profusion of odoriferous shrubs and flowers whose blossoms filled the air with their fragrance. But the pleasures of this paradise could not be long enjoyed by the invaders. Behind them the entire country was in arms. All the forces available for that purpose had been collected throughout the Moslem dominions to intercept their retreat. It was certain death for a straggler to venture beyond the limits of the camp. Provisions could be obtained with the greatest difficulty, owing to the fears of the Mozarabes and the vigilance of the enemy. To add to the embarrassment of the King, his following had been increased by the undesirable presence of a great number of non-combatants, who consumed the supplies while hampering the movements and diminishing the security of the army. Ten thousand Mozarabes, many of whom were accompanied by their families, preferring the doubtful issue of a military campaign and the hardships of a long and tedious march to the certain severities of Moorish vengeance, impeded the march of the Christians. It was hardly consistent with the dictates of humanity to desert these refugees, connected with his race by the double ties of blood and religion; and Alfonso was forced, much against his will, to tolerate their presence and assure them of his protection. After a few days’ sojourn at Velez-Malaga, the army began its homeward march through the mountains of Guadix. From that moment until the boundary of Aragon was reached, its progress was marked by incessant battle. The country swarmed with Moorish horsemen. The camp was repeatedly stormed. The noonday halt, the passage of a stream, the approach to a mountain defile, was certain to provoke a bloody encounter. Hundreds of exhausted women and children, unable to bear the fatigue of the march, were, with the wounded, daily abandoned to the rage of a vindictive enemy. When Alfonso entered his capital, it would have been difficult to recognize in his emaciated and dejected followers, whose ragged garments and battered armor bore evidence of many a hotly contested skirmish, the splendid array of knights which almost a year before had with exultant confidence set forth, as upon a holiday excursion, to capture the city of Granada.