She who, were her brother dead, would be proclaimed by the small remnant of her people Queen of the Goths, was fair as became her race and of good proportions. A native loftiness in features and bearing took from her all notion of the insipidity which attaches itself to that complexion; her eyes were blue, untouched by the unnatural glitter so loved by the Moorish women, and her profuse flaxen hair fell in ringlets about her neck, on which a solid gold chain and heavy medallion rested. A kirtle over a vest, open at the throat, of blue taffetas worked in coloured silks, formed a loose robe lined with fur, and a veil of silk, falling at the back of her neck, concealed the snowy skin of her neck and bosom and served as a covering to her hair. “You have no reason to fear me,” cries Kerim, but the base passion which looked out of his eyes gave to his words a very different interpretation. “There can be no peace between us,” answers Onesinda, trembling in every limb, as she presses closer and closer to the wooden pillars at her back. “Had your purpose been honest, you would not have captured me treacherously and kept me here. Pelayo’s sister will never yield to force. To plant that steel in my breast,” pointing to the richly set dagger he wore at his waist, “is the only service you can do me.” “But you must listen,” retorts Kerim, drawing so near his hot breath fell on her cheek; “for the sake of Pelayo. To further the good of this growing kingdom of the Moors, I desire to ally myself with the royal blood of Spain and rally about me those Christians who still gather round your brother. The throne of Cordoba is too distant, the empire too vast. Abdurraman needs able lieutenants. Kerim will free him of these northern provinces and govern them himself. It is a feeble mind which waits for Fortune’s wheel, the brave must seize it, and turn it for themselves. Under me the sons of the Goths shall serve, Alonso and Friula and the rest, Pelayo above all, next to myself, for the fair Onesinda’s sake! Again I ask you, Christian Princess, will you pledge me to our success?” And his hand again seizes the goblet, which he holds to her lips. Had Onesinda seen the look which accompanied this gesture she would have sunk insensible to the earth, so revolting was the effect of love in such a form, so savage and brutal the nature; but her head had fallen on her bosom, and her closed eyes and deadly pallor disconcerted Kerim, who, with widely opened eyes, contemplated his victim in doubt if she were not already dead. A slight trembling of the eyelids and a convulsive motion about the lips relieved him of this fear. With the utmost care he placed her on a divan, and pouring into her white lips some of the sherbet contained in the goblet, anxiously watched the efforts which Nature made to revive her. As she heaved a deep sigh, she opened her eyes, then closed them again with a shrill cry at the sight of the black visage of Kerim bent over her.