“Blessed be God and all His saints,” said the Cid to his followers. “By this victory we have bettered our quarters for horses and for men. Hear me, all you knights,” and he raised his mighty voice, “we shall get nothing by killing these Moors. Let us make them show us the treasures they have hidden in their houses. That will serve us better than their death.” All this and much more was done, as the Cid said, _por murzar_. Enemies or friends, money must be had. But the great feat of the Cid’s life is his conquest of Valencia, where he was called to protect the Sheikh Yahia along with the Moorish king of Saragossa. Upon whatever cause he went (and the chronicles are extremely confused after he took service with the Moslem), ambition was his motive and pillage his object. From Jativa, on the hills over the sea, he came down with his army into the _Huerta_, an unexampled garden, beautiful in all time: woods of palm and orange-trees, fences of aloes and prickly pear, the glory of the Roman, the pleasaunce of the Goth, the delight of the Arab, who declared “that heaven had fallen here.” Valencia itself lies sweetly on either side of a river, the banks breaking into _bosques_ and gardens, with tall towers shooting into the blue sky. El Miguelete, square and Gothic, its rival Aliberfar, all points, minarets, and domes,--the Zeca (bazaar) and Alcazar,--bridge, twelve gates, and _tapia_ battlements, turreted and machicolated, hemmed in by fruitful plains, the rich country studded with _posadas_ and _quintas_ to the sea-shore, about a mile distant. The Moorish Sheikh Yahia received the Cid honourably, and gave him a great revenue in [Illustration: A DRINKING FOUNTAIN IN SEVILLE. Photo Levy et Fils] return for his protection. But this did not last long. Seeing how powerful he was, King Alfonso suddenly claimed all his conquests as his suzerain, which led to further strife between them, Alfonso attacking Valencia in his absence with the Moors to gain it for himself; in revenge for which act of treason the Campeador carried his arms into his own land, Castile, destroying castles and sacking towns. “Make war and deceive,” was his motto now. He had learned it from the Moors, and acted up to it till he died. Still in his heart he loved the country where he was born and where he had left his wife and children, only that he hated King Alfonso more. * * * * * On his return the gates of Valencia were shut against him, and the terrible siege began, the Cid attacking the city as cruelly as he could, and food becoming dearer every day till at last it was not to be had; the people were carried off in waves of death, dropping and dying in the streets, the Alcazar full of corpses, and no grave with less than ten bodies in it. At last the gates were opened to him by his friend, Abeniaf, the Adelantado, in return for which he had him first stoned, then burned alive in the plaza.