"Allah Akbar! God is great!" exclaimed he; "in his hands are all
secret things- he alone governs the destiny of princes! Know, O
prince, that this land is full of mysteries, hidden from all but those
who, like myself, can grope after knowledge in the dark. Know that
in the neighboring mountains there is a cave, and in that cave there
is an iron table, and on that table there lies a suit of magic
armor, and beside that table there stands a spell-bound steed, which
have been shut up there for many generations."
The prince stared with wonder, while the owl, blinking his huge
round eyes, and erecting his horns, proceeded.
"Many years since, I accompanied my father to these parts on a
tour of his estates, and we sojourned in that cave; and thus became
I acquainted with the mystery. It is a tradition in our family which I
have heard from my grandfather, when I was yet but a very little
owlet, that this armor belonged to a Moorish magician, who took refuge
in this cavern when Toledo was captured by the Christians, and died
here, leaving his steed and weapons under a mystic spell, never to
be used but by a Moslem, and by him only from sunrise to mid-day. In
that interval, whoever uses them will overthrow every opponent."
"Enough, let us seek this cave!" exclaimed Ahmed.
Guided by his legendary mentor, the prince found the cavern, which
was in one of the wildest recesses of those rocky cliffs which rise
around Toledo; none but the mousing eye of an owl or an antiquary
could have discovered the entrance to it.
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