outhern horizon. One night it was only visible from Granada, and then Spain saw it no more. That same day--'twas in the fifteenth century--Boabdil el Chico surrendered the keys of Granada, and the Arabs fled, obeying the retreating star's call.
To-day they are waiting in the north of Africa for Sohail to move once again to the north: when she does so, they will rise again as a single man, and regain their passionately loved Alhambra, their beautiful kingdom of Andalusia.
Tradition is fond of showing us a nucleus of fervent Christian patriots obliged by the invading Arab hordes to retire to the north-western corner of the Iberian peninsula. Here they made a stand, a last glorious stand, and, gradually increasing in strength, they were at last able to drive back the invader inch by inch until he fled across the straits to trouble Iberia no more.
Nothing is, however, less true. The noblemen and monarchs of Galicia, Leon, and Oviedo--later of Castile, Navarra, and Aragon--were so many petty l