They
reminded him of the tales of enchanted halls current in the
Alhambra; and the tortoise-shell cat might be some spell-bound
princess.
He knocked gently at the door. A beautiful face peeped out from a
little window above, but was instantly withdrawn. He waited, expecting
that the door would be opened, but he waited in vain; no footstep
was to be heard within- all was silent. Had his senses deceived him,
or was this beautiful apparition the fairy of the tower? He knocked
again, and more loudly. After a little while the beaming face once
more peeped forth; it was that of a blooming damsel of fifteen.
The page immediately doffed his plumed bonnet, and entreated in
the most courteous accents to be permitted to ascend the tower in
pursuit of his falcon.
"I dare not open the door, senor," replied the little damsel,
blushing, "my aunt has forbidden it."
"I do beseech you, fair maid- it is the favorite falcon of the
queen. I dare not return to the palace without it."
"Are you then one of the cavaliers of the court?"
"I am, fair maid; but I shall lose the queen's favor and my place,
if I lose this hawk."
"Santa Maria! It is against you cavaliers of the court my aunt has
charged me especially to bar the door."
"Against wicked cavaliers doubtless, but I am none of these, but a
simple harmless page, who will be ruined and undone if you deny me
this small request.
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