The Argosy — page 61: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

48 The Cruse of the Reserve Squadron. through the columns; it gleams and glitters upon those tiles that now. almost look like some molten substance throwing out great flames and flashes that confuse the sight. ‘The mind is bewildered, im- agination is dazzled. Where are we, and what can be all this magic influence P Not on earth, surely, and not in a building composed of earthly elements ? Opening from the Court of Lions, passing under the arcades and beyond the slender pillars, is the lovely Hall of the Abencerrages, so named from the legend attributing to Boabdil the murder of the chiefs at the Fountain of Lions, after treacherously inviting them to a ban- quet. ‘Tradition says (and why contradict it ?) that sometimes, in the I y ‘ ii if so mm it Wwe Adyy. de? BALD WEE 4, ii Hiss ult ! ie ae zt mi Ni ii ne iti i HiT me tel os Hi ne i : i if i oa ia th Hin Hast hi ; i ee f i Ate ee ih | | ita i i Mi ae ee it a i Bi “ae | i = ib Mai i. WG sil ™ i COURT OF THE MYRTLES. ——— dead of night, you may hear the groans of the murdered, and a sound as of the distant clanking of chains. But the act, if ever committed, was due to Abn Hasen and not Boabdil, who answers for many of the sins of his father. As we have seen, Boabdil was gentle and kindly, though perhaps wanting in the iron firmness necessary to govern a kingdom. He was born under an unlucky star, and his virtues are eclipsed and forgotten in his misfor- tunes. The last king of the Moors, the loser of his kingdom, a wan- derer flying for his life across the desolate mountains—this is the picture and impression of poor Boabdil as it has come down to pos- terity. His picture hangs in the Generalife, and the calm face, and mild, melancholy eyes gaze at you with a sadness that seems to be at once a revelation of his fate and a reproach to history. COMNIEMOOOKS Conn