Page:Cross, or, The Spanish champion.pdf/26

24 he wandered so far, that the night began to obscure the horizon, which soon grow so dark, that he knew not which way to proceed farther; but perceiving a light at a distance, he bent his steps toward it, and found it to issue from the window of a cottage. Arriving at the door, he knocked loudly for admittance; and a voice from within demanded what he wanted. He answered that he had lost his way, and wished shelter for the night; on which the door was opened by an old woman, who, perceiving by her light that he was a Spaniard, bade him enter.

On his entrance, he perceived a man seated over a few nearly-extinguished embers, who desired him to rest himself. Observing a gloom of melancholy to cloud their brows, he asked the cause of it. The woman with a sigh said, their dejected appearance proceeded from the loss of a beloved boy, who was the prop of their feeble age. "A son!" cried the Spaniard. “No! we cannot say he was our own, but he was reared by us from his childhood, and his great affection to us," said she, "rendered him as dear as if he had." The Spaniard begged to know how they had lost him.

"Thou shalt hear, signior," replied the woman. “It is now many years since my husband, whom you now see before you, and myself resided in a cottage far distant from this spot, where we supported ourselves by selling such refreshments as were necessary to the traveller. Soon after the arrival of the Moors, a party of them, mounted, arrived at our house; behind one of whom was a lady, richly attired, who, in the utmost agitation, and bathed in tears, clasped an infant fondly to her breast. They forced her to alight, and entering the house with her, called for liquor, of which they drank freely, and it was not long before a