A great man had come among them. He gave rich presents, and to receive these presents all that was required was to take part in a strange little ceremony.

Each day little companies of Moors would present themselves before Ximenes, to receive baptism, a bale of silk and a scarlet hat.

Ximenes felt such delight that he had to curb it. It seemed sinful to be so happy. He was anxious that Talavera and Tendilla should not know what was happening, for he was sure they would endeavour to let the innocent Moors know what they were undertaking when they submitted to baptism.

What did it matter how they were brought into the Church, Ximenes asked himself, as long as they came?

So he continued with his baptisms and his presents. The costliness of the silk and hats was disturbing, but Ximenes had always been ready to dig deep into the coffers of Toledo for the sake of the Faith.

News of what was happening came to the ears of one of the most learned of the alfaquis in Granada; this was Zegri, who, quietly studious, had not known what was taking place in the city.

One of his fellows called on him wearing a magnificent red hat, and he said: ‘But you are extravagant. You have become rich, my friend.’

‘This is not all,’ he was told. ‘I have a silk robe, and both were presents from the great Archbishop who is now in Granada.’

‘Costly presents are often given that costlier presents may be received.’

‘Ah, but all I did to earn these was to take part in some little Christian game called baptism.’

‘Baptism! But that is the ceremony which is performed when one accepts the Christian Faith.’

‘Oh, I was a Christian for a day … and for this I received my silk and hat.’

‘What is this you say?’ cried Zegri. ‘You cannot be a Christian for a day!’

‘It is what the Archbishop told us. “Be baptised,” he said, “and these gifts are yours.” Our fellows are crowding to his Palace each day. We play this little game and come away with our gifts.’

‘Allah preserve us!’ cried Zegri. ‘Do you not know that once you have been baptised you are a Christian, and do you not know what these Christians do to those whom they call heretics?’

‘What do they do?’

Zegri seized his robe as though he would rend it apart. He said: ‘Here in Granada we live in peace. In other parts of Spain, there is that which is called the Inquisition. Those who do not practise Christianity – and Christianity in a particular manner – are called heretics. They are tortured and burned at the stake.’ His visitor had turned pale.

‘It would seem,’ said Zegri impatiently, ‘that our countrymen have been lulled into stupidity by the beauty of the flowers that grow about our city, by the prosperity of our merchants, by the continued brilliance of our sunshine.’

‘But … they are going in their hundreds!’

‘We must call a meeting at once without delay. Send out messages to all. Tell them that I have a stern warning to give. Bring here to me as many of the alfaquis as you can muster. I must stop this at once.’

Ximenes waited for more visitors. They did not come. There were his bales of silk, his scarlet hats, but it seemed that now nobody wanted them.

Ximenes, enraged, sent for Talavera and Tendilla.

They came immediately. Tendilla had discovered what had been happening and was very angry. Talavera also knew, but he was less disturbed; as a Churchman he admired the zeal of Ximenes; never had he seen such rapid proselytism.

‘Perhaps,’ said Ximenes, ‘you can tell me what is happening in this city.’

‘It would seem,’ replied Tendilla lightly, ‘that certain simple men have become Christians without understanding what this means.’

‘You sound regretful,’ accused Ximenes.

‘Because,’ Tendilla answered, ‘these men have accepted baptism without understanding. They have accepted your gifts and in return they wished to give you what you asked – baptism into the Christian Faith for a bale of silk and a red hat. I should be glad to hear they had accepted our Faith without the bribe.’

‘Yet there are more conversions in this city since the Archbishop of Toledo came here,’ Talavera reminded him.

‘I do not call this true conversion to Christianity,’ retorted Tendilla. ‘These simple souls have no knowledge of what they are undertaking.’

‘We need not discuss your views on this matter,’ Ximenes put in coldly. ‘For the last two days there have been no conversions. There must be a reason. These savages cannot have taken a dislike to bales of silk and scarlet hats.’

‘They have become wary of baptism,’ said Tendilla.

‘You two go among them as though you were of the same race. You doubtless know the reason for this sudden absence. I command you to tell me.’

Tendilla was silent, but Talavera, as an Archbishop himself, although of junior rank, answered his superior’s command: ‘It is due to the warnings of Zegri.’

‘Zegri? Who is this man Zegri?’

Tendilla spoke then. ‘He is the leading alfaquis, and not such a simple fellow as some. He understands a little of what baptism into the Christian Faith means. He has heard what has been going on and has warned his fellow Moors that baptism demands more of men and women than the acceptance of gifts.’

‘I see,’ said Ximenes. ‘So it is this man Zegri. Thank you for your information.’

When they had left him he sent for one of his servants, a man named Leon, and he said to him:’ I wish you to take a message from me to the house of the alfaquis, Zegri.’

Zegri stood before Ximenes, while Ximenes showed him two bales of silk. ‘You may take as many of the hats as you wish,’ he told his guest.

‘No,’ said Zegri.’ I know of this baptism. I know what it means. Here in Granada we have not known the Inquisition, but I have heard what it does to Jews who have accepted baptism and go back to their own Faith.’

‘Once you were a Christian you would not wish to go back to your own Faith. Each day you would become more and more aware of the advantages which Christianity has to offer.’

‘I am a Mohammedan. I do not look for advantages.’

‘You are a man stumbling in darkness.’

‘I live very well, I am a happy man … with the love of Allah.’

‘There is only one true Faith,’ said Ximenes. ‘That is the Christian Faith.’

‘Allah forgive you. You know not what you say.’

‘You will go to eternal torment when you die.’

‘Allah will be good to me and mine.’

‘If you become a Christian you will go to Heaven when you die. Allow me to give you baptism and eternal joy shall be yours.’

Zegri smiled and said simply: ‘I am a Mohammedan. I do not change my religion for a bale of silk and a red hat.’ His eyes flashed defiance as he stood there, and Ximenes realised that argument would never convince such a man. Yet it was necessary that he should be convinced. This was a powerful man, a man who would sway a multitude. One word from him and the conversions had ceased.

It was not to be tolerated, and in Ximenes’s eyes all that was done in the service of the Faith was well done.

‘I see,’ he said, ‘that I cannot make you a good Christian.’

‘I do not believe that I could make you a good Mussulman,’ retorted Zegri, smiling widely.

Ximenes crossed himself in horror.

‘Here in Granada we shall continue in our own Faith,’ said Zegri quietly.

But you shall not! thought Ximenes. I have sworn to convert this place to Christianity, and I will do it.

‘I will take my leave of you,’ said Zegri, ‘and I will thank you for receiving me in your Palace, oh mighty Archbishop.’

Ximenes bowed his head and called to his servant Leon.