of thy servant; thou didst ask me for a surety of my faith; thou didst demand a hostage; and didst refuse further parley without such pledge were yielded to thee. Lo! I place under thy kingly care this maiden—the sole child of my house—as surety of my truth; I intrust to thee a life dearer than my own.”
“You have kept faith with us, stranger,” said the king, in that soft and musical voice which well disguised his deep craft and his unrelenting will; “and the maiden whom you intrust to our charge shall be ranked with the ladies of our royal consort.”
“Sire,” replied Almamen, with touching earnestness, “you now hold the power of life and death over all for whom this heart can breathe a prayer or cherish a hope, save for my countrymen and my religion. This solemn pledge between thee and me I render up without scruple, without fear. To thee I give a hostage, from thee I have but a promise.”
“But it is the promise of a king, a Christian, and a knight,” said the king, with dignity rather mild than arrogant; “among monarchs, what hostage can be more sacred? Let this pass: how proceed affairs in the rebel city?”
“May this maiden withdraw, ere I answer my lord the king?” said Almamen.
The young prince started to his feet. “Shall I conduct this new charge to my mother?” he asked, in a low voice, addressing Ferdinand.
The king half smiled: “The holy father were a better guide,” he returned, in the same tone. But, though the Dominican heard the hint, he retained his motionless posture; and Ferdinand, after a momentary gaze on the friar, turned away. “Be it so, Juan,” said he, with a look meant to convey caution to the prince; “Perez shall accompany you to the queen: return the moment your mission is fulfilled—we want your presence.”
While this conversation was carried on between the father and son, the Hebrew was whispering, in his sacred tongue, words of comfort and remonstrance to the maiden; but they appeared to have but little of the desired effect; and, suddenly falling on his breast, she wound her arms around the Hebrew, whose breast shook with strong emotions, and exclaimed passionately, in the same language, “Oh, my father! what have I done?—why send me from thee?—why intrust thy child to the stranger? Spare me, spare me!”
“Child of my heart!” returned the Hebrew, with solemn but tender accents, “even as Abraham offered up his son, must I offer thee, upon the altars of our faith; but, O Leila! even as the angel of the Lord forbade the offering, so shall thy youth be spared, and thy years reserved for the glory of generations yet unborn. King of Spain!” he continued in the Spanish tongue, suddenly and eagerly, “you are a father, forgive my weakness, and speed this parting.”
Juan approached; and with respectful courtesy attempted to take the hand of the maiden.
“You?” said the Israelite, with a dark frown. “O king! the prince is young.”
“Honour knoweth no distinction of age,” answered the king. “What ho, Perez! accompany this maiden and the prince to the queen’s pavilion.”
The sight of the sober years and grave countenance of the attendant seemed to re-assure the Hebrew. He strained Leila in his arms; printed a kiss upon her forehead without removing her veil; and then, placing her almost in the arms of Perez, turned away to the further end of the tent, and concealed his face with his hands. The king appeared touched; but the Dominican gazed upon the whole scene with a sour scowl.
Leila still paused for a moment; and then, as if recovering her self-possession, said, aloud and distinctly,—“Man deserts me; but I will not forget that God is over all.” Shaking off the hand of the Spaniard, she continued, “Lead on; I follow thee!” and left the tent with a steady and even majestic step.
“And now,” said the king, when alone with the Dominican and Almamen, “how proceed our hopes?”
“Boabdil,” replied the Israelite, “is aroused against both his army and their leader, Muza; the king will not quit the Alhambra; and this morning, ere I left the city, Muza himself was in the prisons of the palace.”
“How!” cried the king, starting from his seat.
“This is my work,” pursued the Hebrew coldly. “It is these hands that are shaping for Ferdinand of Spain the keys of Granada.”
“And right kingly shall be your guerdon,” said the Spanish monarch: “meanwhile, accept this earnest of our favour.” So saying, he took from his breast a chain of massive gold, the links of which were curiously inwrought with gems, and extended it to the Israelite. Almamen moved not. A dark flush upon his countenance bespoke the feelings he with difficulty restrained.
“I sell not my foes for gold, great king,” said he, with a stern smile: “I sell my foes to buy the ransom of my friends.”
“Churlish!” said Ferdinand, offended: “but speak on, man, speak on!”
“If I place Granada, ere two weeks are past, within thy power, what shall be my reward?”
“Thou didst talk to me, when last we met, of immunities to the Jews.”
The calm Dominican looked up as the king spoke, crossed himself, and resumed his attitude of humility.
“I demand for the people of Israel,” returned Almamen, “free leave to trade and abide within the city, and follow their callings, subjected only to the same laws and the same imposts as the Christian population.”
“The same laws, and the same imposts! Humph! there are difficulties in the concession. If we refuse?”
“Our treaty is ended. Give me back the maiden—you will have no further need of the hostage you demanded: I return to the city, and renew our interviews no more.”
Politic and cold-blooded as was the temperament of the great Ferdinand, he had yet the imperious and haughty nature of a prosperous and long-descended king; and he bit his lip in deep displeasure at the tone of the dictatorial and stately stranger.
“Thou usest plain language, my friend,” said he; “my words can be as rudely spoken. Thou art in my power, and canst return not, save at my permission.”
“I have your royal word, sire, for free entrance and safe egress,” answered Almamen. “Break it, and Granada is with the Moors till the Darro runs red with the blood of her heroes, and her people strew the vales as the leaves in autumn.”
“Art thou then thyself of the Jewish faith?” asked the king. “If thou art not, wherefore are the outcasts of the world so dear to thee?”
“My fathers were of that creed, royal Ferdinand; and if I myself desert their creed, I do not desert their cause. O king! are my terms scorned or accepted?”
“I accept them: provided, first, that thou obtainest the exile or death of Muza; secondly, that within two weeks of this date thou bringest me, along with the chief councillors of Granada, the written treaty of the capitulation, and the keys of the city. Do this: and though the sole king in Christendom who dares the hazard, I offer to the Israelites throughout Andalusia the common laws and rights of citizens of Spain; and to thee I will accord such dignity as may content thy ambition.”
The Hebrew bowed reverently, and drew from his breast a scroll, which he placed on the table before the king. “This writing, mighty Ferdinand, contains the articles of our compact.”
“How, knave! wouldst thou have us commit our royal signature to conditions with such as thou art, to the chance of the public eye? The king’s word
