Part 19 (1/2)
”She is mine! she is my daughter! I claim her from thee as a father, in the name of the great Sire of Man!”
”Seize the sorcerer! seize him!” exclaimed the Inquisitor, as, with a sudden movement, Almamen cleared his way through the scattered and dismayed group, and stood with his daughter in his arms, on the first step of the consecrated platform.
But not a foot stirred--not a hand was raised. The epithet bestowed on the intruder had only breathed a supernatural terror into the audience; and they would have sooner rushed upon a tiger in his lair, than on the lifted dagger and savage aspect of that grim stranger.
”Oh, my father!” then said a low and faltering voice, that startled Muza as a voice from the grave--”wrestle not against the decrees of Heaven.
Thy daughter is not compelled to her solemn choice. Humbly, but devotedly, a convert to the Christian creed, her only wish on earth is to take the consecrated and eternal vow.”
”Ha!” groaned the Hebrew, suddenly relaxing his hold, as his daughter fell on her knees before him, ”then have I indeed been told, as I have foreseen, the worst. The veil is rent--the spirit hath left the temple.
Thy beauty is desecrated; thy form is but unhallowed clay. Dog!”
he cried, more fiercely, glaring round upon the unmoved face of the Inquisitor, ”this is thy work: but thou shalt not triumph. Here, by thine own shrine, I spit at and defy thee, as once before, amidst the tortures of thy inhuman court. Thus--thus--thus--Almamen the Jew delivers the last of his house from the curse of Galilee!”
”Hold, murderer!” cried a voice of thunder; and an armed man burst through the crowd and stood upon the platform. It was too late: thrice the blade of the Hebrew had pa.s.sed through that innocent breast; thrice was it reddened with that virgin blood. Leila fell in the arms of her lover; her dim eyes rested upon his countenance, as it shone upon her, beneath his lifted vizor-a faint and tender smile played upon her lips--Leila was no more.
One hasty glance Almamen cast upon his victim, and then, with a wild laugh that woke every echo in the dreary aisles, he leaped from the place. Brandis.h.i.+ng his b.l.o.o.d.y weapon above his head, he dashed through the coward crowd; and, ere even the startled Dominican had found a voice, the tramp of his headlong steed rang upon the air; an instant--and all was silent.
But over the murdered girl leaned the Moor, as yet incredulous of her death; her head still unshorn of its purple tresses, pillowed on his lap--her icy hand clasped in his, and her blood weltering fast over his armour. None disturbed him; for, habited as the knights of Christendom, none suspected his faith; and all, even the Dominican, felt a thrill of sympathy at his distress. How he came hither, with what object,--what hope, their thoughts were too much locked in pity to conjecture.
There, voiceless and motionless, bent the Moor, until one of the monks approached and felt the pulse, to ascertain if life was, indeed, utterly gone.
The Moor at first waved him haughtily away; but, when he divined the monk's purpose, suffered him in silence to take the beloved hand. He fixed on him his dark and imploring eyes; and when the father dropped the hand, and, gently shaking his head, turned away, a deep and agonising groan was all that the audience heard from that heart in which the last iron of fate had entered. Pa.s.sionately he kissed the brow, the cheeks, the lips of the hushed and angel face, and rose from the spot.
”What dost thou here? and what knowest thou of yon murderous enemy of G.o.d and man?” asked the Dominican, approaching.
Muza made no reply, as he stalked slowly through the chapel. The audience was touched to sudden tears. ”Forbear!” said they, almost with one accord, to the harsh Inquisitor; ”he hath no voice to answer thee.”
And thus, amidst the oppressive grief and sympathy of the Christian throng, the unknown Paynim reached the door, mounted his steed, and as he turned once more and cast a hurried glance upon the fatal pile, the bystanders saw the large tears rolling down his swarthy cheeks.
Slowly that coal-black charger wound down the hillock, crossed the quiet and lovely garden, and vanished amidst the forest. And never was known, to Moor or Christian, the future fate of the hero of Granada. Whether he reached in safety the sh.o.r.es of his ancestral Africa, and carved out new fortunes and a new name; or whether death, by disease or strife, terminated obscurely his glorious and brief career, mystery--deep and unpenetrated, even by the fancies of the thousand bards who have consecrated his deeds--wraps in everlasting shadow the destinies of Muza Ben Abil Gazan, from that hour, when the setting sun threw its parting ray over his stately form and his ebon barb, disappearing amidst the breathless shadows of the forest.
CHAPTER VI. THE RETURN--THE RIOT--THE TREACHERY--AND THE DEATH.
It was the eve of the fatal day on which Granada was to be delivered to the Spaniards, and in that subterranean vault beneath the house of Almamen, before described, three elders of the Jewish persuasion were met.
”Trusty and well-beloved Ximen,” cried one, a wealthy and usurious merchant, with a twinkling and humid eye, and a sleek and unctuous aspect, which did not, however, suffice to disguise something fierce and crafty in his low brow and pinched lips--”trusty and well-beloved Ximen,” said this Jew--”truly thou hast served us well, in yielding to thy persecuted brethren this secret shelter. Here, indeed, may the heathen search for us in vain! Verily, my veins grow warm again; and thy servant hungereth, and hath thirst.”
”Eat, Isaac--eat; yonder are viands prepared for thee; eat, and spare not. And thou, Elias--wilt thou not draw near the board? the wine is old and precious, and will revive thee.”
”Ashes and hyssop--hyssop and ashes, are food and drink for me,”
answered Elias, with pa.s.sionate bitterness; ”they have rased my house--they have burned my granaries--they have molten down my gold. I am a ruined man!”
”Nay,” said Ximen, who gazed at him with a malevolent eye--for so utterly had years and sorrows mixed with gall even the one kindlier sympathy he possessed, that he could not resist an inward chuckle over the very afflictions he relieved, and the very impotence he protected--”nay, Elias, thou hast wealth yet left in the seaport towns sufficient to buy up half Granada.”
”The Nazarene will seize it all!” cried Elias; ”I see it already in his grasp!”
”Nay, thinkest thou so?--and wherefore?” asked Ximen, startled into sincere, because selfish anxiety.
”Mark me! Under licence of the truce, I went, last night, to the Christian camp: I had an interview with the Christian king; and when he heard my name and faith, his very beard curled with ire. 'Hound of Belial!' he roared forth, 'has not thy comrade carrion, the sorcerer Almamen, sufficiently deceived and insulted the majesty of Spain? For his sake, ye shall have no quarter. Tarry here another instant, and thy corpse shall be swinging to the winds! Go, and count over thy misgotten wealth; just census shall be taken of it; and if thou defraudest our holy impost by one piece of copper, thou shalt sup with Dives!' Such was my mission, and mine answer. I return home to see the ashes of mine house! Woe is me!”
”And this we owe to Almamen, the pretended Jew!” cried Isaac, from his solitary but not idle place at the board. ”I would this knife were at his false throat!” growled Elias, clutching his poniard with his long bony fingers.