Monina, will sail for ever with thy father on the less barbarous sea."
De Faro's companion was named Lord Barry. He was baron of Buttevant, in the county of Cork, and allied to the Geraldines, chiefs of that soil. He had fought at Stoke, and been attainted by Henry; so that he was forced to wander a banished man. Eager to reinstate himself, every Yorkist plot numbered him among its warmest partizans. He had for some time resided either at Paris or at Brussels, where he often held counsel with Lady Brampton. Weary of delay, he at last stole back to Ireland, to see whether his noble kinsmen there would abet and rise in favour of the duke of York. He came away, proud and delighted with his success; promises of service for the White Rose had been showered on him—his eloquence and enthusiasm conquered even Lady Brampton. War also seemed impending between France and England; if that were once declared, every objection would be obviated. At any rate, the times seemed so fair, that she agreed with Lord Barry to visit the present home of the young English prince; and, as if to further their designs. Sir Edward Brampton was at that moment requested by the Archduke Maximilian to undertake a private embassy to Lisbon. Thither they had sailed, and now, leaving this lady in Portugal, Lord Barry had continued his voyage to Andalusia, with the intention of returning again to Lisbon, accompanied by the promise and hope of the house of York. He met De Faro in the port of Malaga: the name was familiar to him. They journeyed together to Alcala-la-Real.
Lord Barry was all eagerness that the English prince should immediately join Lady Brampton at Lisbon. It was agreed that they should proceed thither in De Faro's caravel. The mariner abhorred the name of warfare betwen Spaniard and Moor; and Madeline's death only added poignancy to this sensation. He would not look on the siege of Granada. While the Irish noble and Monina proceeded to the camp to prepare the cousins, he returned to Malaga to bring round his vessel to the nearer port of Almeria. Lord Barry and the fair Moor commenced their journey on the morning of a most burning day; they wound down the steep declivities of the Sierra, and entered upon the bright blooming plain. Noon with all its heat approached. They rested under a grove of mulberries, reposing by a brook, while Lord Barry's horse. and Monina's mule were tied to the nearest shrubs. Slight accidents are the wires and pullies on which the machinery of our lives hang. Stung by flies, the noble horse grew restive, broke his rein, and galloped
