Upon Musa approaching the city to supersede Tarik, the latter broke off and concealed one of the legs of the table. Musa was already incensed against his lieutenant for having deprived him of the glory of the conquest of Spain, and emphasised his reprimands with strokes of a whip. When he found that the leg of the table was missing, his anger was very great. Tarik assured him he had found it in that mutilated condition, and Musa caused the missing leg to be replaced by one of gold. His subordinate, however, he cast into prison, where the One-Eyed One remained till released by orders from the Khalifa himself. He was amply revenged on Musa, when upon the latter presenting the table to his sovereign as his own discovery, he was able triumphantly to give him the lie by producing the missing leg of emerald. And so the wonderful Table of Solomon, of emerald, or of gold, or of both, passes out of the ken of history. We hear of Musa’s son, Abd-ul-Aziz (or “Belasis,” as he is quaintly termed by old Spanish writers) marrying King Roderic’s widow, Exilona, at Toledo. Abd-ul-Aziz, however, was Governor of Seville, where he met his death, and it is not unlikely, if he married the queen at all, that he did so in that southern city, where she may have been left by her first consort to await the result of the battle of the Guadalete. If there be any truth in the legend that Exilona was of Moorish origin herself, the story of this second and apparently cold-blooded union seems less improbable. Tradition has it that the widow of the Goth only consented to the match on Abd-ul-Aziz promising to observe towards her all the deference due to a Christian queen. He kept his promise only too faithfully, and his forcing his officers to bend the knee to a woman and an infidel, is said to have contributed to bring about his assassination in the mosque at Seville. The conquerors here, as in other parts of the kingdom, acted generously towards the conquered. A moderate tribute was levied on the Christians, who were allowed to practise their religion and be governed by their own laws and customs. Seven churches were allotted to their use, the names of these being Santa Eulalia, Santa Maria de Alficem, Santa Justa, San Sebastian, San Marcos, San Torcuato, and San Lucas. But these privileges must have hardly consoled the citizens for the loss of the town’s rank as capital of Spain. It became, as it had been under the Romans, “a strong place,” of which the dominant race valued the advantages, but, in consequence of the rise of Cordoba and Seville it sank to the condition of a provincial town.