CHAPTER IV. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SOLITARY HORSEMAN.
It was a burning and sultry noon, when, through a small valley, skirtedby rugged and precipitous hills, at the distance of several leagues fromGranada, a horseman, in complete armour, wound his solitary way; Hismail was black and unadorned; on his vizor waved no plume. But therewas something in his carriage and mien, and the singular beauty of hiscoal-black steed, which appeared to indicate a higher rank than theabsence of page and squire, and the plainness of his accoutrements,would have denoted to a careless eye. He rode very slowly; and hissteed, with the licence of a spoiled favourite, often halted lazily inhis sultry path, as a tuft of herbage, or the bough of some overhangingtree, offered its temptation. At length, as he thus paused, a noise washeard in a copse that clothed the descent of a steep mountain; and thehorse started suddenly back, forcing the traveller from his reverie.He looked mechanically upward, and beheld the figure of a man boundingthrough the trees, with rapid and irregular steps. It was a form thatsuited well the silence and solitude of the spot; and might have passedfor one of those stern recluses--half hermit, half soldier--who, in theearlier crusades, fixed their wild homes amidst the sands and caves ofPalestine. The stranger supported his steps by a long staff. His hairand beard hung long and matted over his broad shoulders. A rusted mail,once splendid with arabesque enrichments, protected his breast; but theloose gown--a sort of tartan, which descended below the cuirass--wasrent and tattered, and his feet bare; in his girdle was a short curvedcimiter, a knife or dagger, and a parchment roll, clasped and bound withiron.
As the horseman gazed at this abrupt intruder on the solitude, hisframe quivered with emotion; and, raising himself to his full height, hecalled aloud, "Fiend or santon--whatsoever thou art--what seekest thouin these lonely places, far from the king thy counsels deluded, and thecity betrayed by thy false prophecies and unhallowed charms?"
"Ha!" cried Almamen, for it was indeed the Israelite; "by thy blackcharger, and the tone of thy haughty voice, I know the hero of Granada.Rather, Muza Ben Abil Gazan, why art thou absent from the last hold ofthe Moorish empire?"
"Dost thou pretend to read the future, and art thou blind to thepresent? Granada has capitulated to the Spaniard. Alone I have left aland of slaves, and shall seek, in our ancestral Africa, some spot wherethe footstep of the misbeliever hath not trodden."
"The fate of one bigotry is, then, sealed," said Almamen, gloomily; "butthat which succeeds it is yet more dark."
"Dog!" cried Muza, couching his lance, "what art thou that thusblasphemest?"
"A Jew!" replied Almamen, in a voice of thunder, and drawing hiscimiter: "a despised and despising Jew! Ask you more? I am the son ofa race of kings. I was the worst enemy of the Moors till I found theNazarene more hateful than the Moslem; and then even Muza himself wasnot their more renowned champion. Come on, if thou wilt--man to man: Idefy thee"
"No, no," muttered Muza, sinking his lance; "thy mail is rusted withthe blood of the Spaniard, and this arm cannot smite the slayer of theChristian. Part we in peace."
"Hold, prince!" said Almamen, in an altered voice: "is thy country thesole thing dear to thee? Has the smile of woman never stolen beneaththine armour? Has thy heart never beat for softer meetings than theencounter of a foe?"
"Am I human, and a Moor?" returned Muza. "For once you divine aright;and, could thy spells bestow on these eyes but one more sight of thelast treasure left to me on earth, I should be as credulous of thysorcery as Boabdil."
"Thou lovest her still, then--this Leila?"
"Dark necromancer, hast thou read my secret? and knowest thou the nameof my beloved one? Ah! let me believe thee indeed wise, and reveal tome the spot of earth which holds the delight of my soul! Yes," continuedthe Moor, with increased emotion, and throwing up his vizor, as if forair--"yes; Allah forgive me! but, when all was lost at Granada, I hadstill one consolation in leaving my fated birthplace: I had licence tosearch for Leila; I had the hope to secure to my wanderings in distantlands one to whose glance the eyes of the houris would be dim. But Iwaste words. Tell me where is Leila, and conduct me to her feet!"
"Moslem, I will lead thee to her," answered Almamen, gazing on theprince with an expression of strange and fearful exultation in his darkeyes: "I will lead thee to her-follow me. It is only yesternight that Ilearned the walls that confined her; and from that hour to this have Ijourneyed over mountain and desert, without rest or food."
"Yet what is she to thee?" asked Muza, suspiciously.
"Thou shalt learn full soon. Let us on."
So saying, Almamen sprang forward with a vigour which the excitement ofhis mind supplied to the exhaustion of his body. Muza wonderinglypushed on his charger, and endeavoured to draw his mysterious guide intoconversation: but Almamen scarcely heeded him. And when he broke fromhis gloomy silence, it was but in incoherent and brief exclamations,often in a tongue foreign to the ear of his companion. The hardy Moor,though steeled against the superstitions of his race, less by thephilosophy of the learned than the contempt of the brave, felt an awegather over him as he glanced, from the giant rocks and lonely valleys,to the unearthly aspect and glittering eyes of the reputed sorcerer; andmore than once he muttered such verses of the Koran as were esteemed byhis countrymen the counterspell to the machinations of the evil genii.
It might be an hour that they had thus journeyed together, when Almamenpaused abruptly. "I am wearied," said he, faintly; "and, though timepresses, I fear that my strength will fail me."
"Mount, then, behind me," returned the Moor, after some naturalhesitation: "Jew though thou art, I will brave the contamination for thesake of Leila."
"Moor!" cried the Hebrew, fiercely, "the contamination would be mine.Things of yesterday, as thy Prophet and thy creed are, thou canst notsound the unfathomable loathing which each heart faithful to the Ancientof Days feels for such as thou and thine."
"Now, by the Kaaba!" said Muza, and his brow became dark, "another suchword and the hoofs of my steed shall trample the breath of blasphemyfrom thy body."
"I would defy thee to the death," answered Almamen, disdainfully; "butI reserve the bravest of the Moors to witness a deed worthy of thedescendant of Jephtha. But hist! I hear hoofs."
Muza listened; and his sharp ear caught a distinct ring upon the hardand rocky soil. He turned round and saw Almamen gliding away throughthe thick underwood, until the branches concealed his form. Presently,a curve in the path brought in view a Spanish cavalier, mounted on anAndalusian jennet: the horseman was gaily singing one of the popularballads of the time; and, as it related to the feats of the Spaniardsagainst the Moors, Muza's haughty blood was already stirred, and hismoustache quivered on his lip. "I will change the air," muttered theMoslem, grasping his lance, when, as the thought crossed him, he beheldthe Spaniard suddenly reel in his saddle and lay prostrate on theground. In the same instant Almamen had darted from his hiding-place,seized the steed of the cavalier, mounted, and, ere Muza recovered fromhis surprise, was by the side of the Moor.
"By what harm," said Muza, curbing his barb, "didst thou fell theSpaniard--seemingly without a blow?"
"As David felled Goliath--by the pebble and the sling," answeredAlmamen, carelessly. "Now, then, spur forward, if thou art eager to seethy Leila."
The horsemen dashed over the body of the stunned and insensibleSpaniard. Tree and mountain glided by; gradually the valley vanished,and a thick forest loomed upon their path. Still they made on, thoughthe interlaced boughs and the ruggedness of the footing somewhatobstructed their way; until, as the sun began slowly to decline, theyentered a broad and circular space, round which trees of the eldestgrowth spread their motionless and shadowy boughs. In the midmost swardwas a rude and antique stone, resembling the altar of some barbarous anddeparted creed. Here Almamen abruptly halted, and muttered inaudibly tohimself.
"What moves thee, dark stranger?" said the Moor; "and why dost thoumutter and gaze on space?"
Almamen answered not, but dismounted, hung his bridle t
o a branch of ascathed and riven elm, and advanced alone into the middle of thespace. "Dread and prophetic power that art within me!" said the Hebrew,aloud,--"this, then, is the spot that, by dream and vision, thou hastforetold me wherein to consummate and record the vow that shall severfrom the spirit the last weakness of the flesh. Night after night hastthou brought before mine eyes, in darkness and in slumber, the solemnsolitude that I now survey. Be it so! I am prepared!"
Thus speaking, he retired for a few moments into the wood: collectedin his arms the dry leaves and withered branches which cumbered thedesolate clay, and placed the fuel upon the altar. Then, turning to theEast, and raising his hands he exclaimed, "Lo! upon this altar, onceworshipped, perchance, by the heathen savage, the last bold spirit ofthy fallen and scattered race dedicates, O Ineffable One! that preciousoffering Thou didst demand from a sire of old. Accept the sacrifice!"
As the Hebrew ended his adjuration he drew a phial from his bosom, andsprinkled a few drops upon the arid fuel. A pale blue flame suddenlyleaped up; and, as it lighted the haggard but earnest countenance ofthe Israelite, Muza felt his Moorish blood congeal in his veins, andshuddered, though he scarce knew why. Almamen, with his dagger, severedfrom his head one of his long locks, and cast it upon the flame. Hewatched it until it was consumed; and then, with a stifled cry, fellupon the earth in a dead swoon. The Moor hastened to raise him; hechafed his hands and temples; he unbuckled the vest upon his bosom; heforgot that his comrade was a sorcerer and a Jew, so much had the agonyof that excitement moved his sympathy.
It was not till several minutes had elapsed that Almamen, with adeep-drawn sigh, recovered from his swoon. "Ah, beloved one! bride of myheart!" he murmured, "was it for this that thou didst commend to methe only pledge of our youthful love? Forgive me! I restore her to theearth, untainted by the Gentile." He closed his eyes again, and a strongconvulsion shook his frame. It passed; and he rose as a man from afearful dream, composed, and almost as it were refreshed, by the terrorshe had undergone. The last glimmer of the ghastly light was dying awayupon that ancient altar, and a low wind crept sighing through the trees.
"Mount, prince," said Almamen, calmly, but averting his eyes from thealtar; "we shall have no more delays."
"Wilt thou not explain thy incantation?" asked Muza; "or is it, as myreason tells me, but the mummery of a juggler?"
"Alas! alas!" answered Almamen, in a sad and altered tone, "thou wiltsoon know all."