To the no doubt conscience-stricken Roderic, seated in good old kingly fashion upon his throne, appeared two venerable strangers with a message of mysterious import. When Hercules had founded (as some men say) Toledo, not far from the city, among the mountains, he had reared a tower, of which these uncouth brethren were the guardians, as their ancestors, in an unbroken line, had been before them. On this tower and on its unknown and fearful contents, the demigod had laid a necromantic spell. It had been the custom of each of the Kings of Spain to affix to the massive doors a new lock, and now Roderic was summoned to fulfil this duty, for failing this and if any rash mortal should discover the secret of the tower, ruin, absolute and immediate, must overtake his kingdom. Agog with curiosity, with a brilliant cavalcade, the king clattered through the streets of his capital, and found the wondrous tower in the recesses of the hills. The aged custodians besought him to hasten and to affix his seal to the enchanted doors. In vain! it was with another intention the impetuous sovereign had come hither. He burst open the doors and rushed in, where never man since Hercules had dared to tread. Before him stood a gigantic statue in bronze, which dealt blows with a great mace unceasingly to right and left. On its breast were inscribed the words, _I do my duty_. Roderic sternly adjured the creature of enchantment to let him pass. It obeyed. In the interior of the tower the King found a casket of rich workmanship. A legend thereon warned him of the doom that would overtake him who should open it. Roderic forced open the lid. He beheld a fold of linen on which were painted the figures of Moorish warriors in battle-array. As he gazed the figures seemed to move, to grow larger, to assume the proportions of men. He beheld a battlefield where Goths and Moors contended for the mastery. Breathless, he awaited the issue. The Goths were flying, and he saw his own white steed, Orelia, galloping through the fray--riderless. Affrighted, the king and his attendants rushed to the door. There lay the two ancient custodians, dead. Thunder rolled, a storm burst over the land, and Roderic and his cavaliers drew not rein till they reached the palace of Toledo. Next day the stout-hearted Goths reascended to the hills. But as they approached, behold a great eagle swooped down from the sky holding in its talons a flaming brand! The tower blazed up like matchwood. Then arose a great wind which carried the ashes to every part of Spain; and every man on whom a portion of the ashes fell was afterwards slain in battle by the Moors.