"I want neither money nor armor," said the ferocious knight; "tell this
to the Alfaqui, Jew. And I will keep the child, his daughter, to serve
the messes for my dogs, and clean the platters for my scullions."
"Deprive not the old man of his child," here interposed the Knight
of Ivanhoe; "bethink thee, brave Don Beltran, she is but an infant in
years."
"She is my captive, Sir Knight," replied the surly Don Beltran; "I will
do with my own as becomes me."
"Take 200,000 dirhems," cried the Jew; "more!--anything! The Alfaqui
will give his life for his child!"
"Come hither, Zutulbe!--come hither, thou Moorish pearl!" yelled
the ferocious warrior; "come closer, my pretty black-eyed houri of
heathenesse! Hast heard the name of Beltran de Espada y Trabuco?"
"There were three brothers of that name at Alarcos, and my brothers slew
the Christian dogs!" said the proud young girl, looking boldly at Don
Beltran, who foamed with rage.
"The Moors butchered my mother and her little ones, at midnight, in our
castle of Murcia," Beltran said.
"Thy father fled like a craven, as thou didst, Don Beltran!" cried the
high-spirited girl.
"By Saint Jago, this is too much!" screamed the infuriated nobleman; and
the next moment there was a shriek, and the maiden fell to the ground
with Don Beltran's dagger in her side.
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