that division of the tent might be called) hung with black serge. At the
upper part of the space was an estrado, or platform, on which, by a long
table, sat three men; while at the head of the board was seen the calm
and rigid countenance of Tomas de Torquemada. The threshold of the tent
was guarded by two men, in garments similar in hue and fashion to
those of the figure who had ushered Almamen into the presence of the
inquisitor, each bearing a long lance, and with a long two-edged sword
by his side. This made all the inhabitants of that melancholy and
ominous apartment.

The Israelite looked round with a pale brow, but a flashing and scornful
eye; and, when he met the gaze of the Dominican, it almost seemed as if
those two men, each so raised above his fellows, by the sternness of his
nature and the energy of his passions, sought by a look alone to assert
his own supremacy and crush his foe. Yet, in truth, neither did justice
to the other; and the indignant disdain of Almamen was retorted by the
cold and icy contempt of the Dominican.

"Prisoner," said Torquemada (the first to withdraw his gaze), "a less
haughty and stubborn demeanour might have better suited thy condition:
but no matter; our Church is meek and humble. We have sent for thee in a
charitable and paternal hope; for although, as spy and traitor, thy
life is already forfeited, yet would we fain redeem and spare it to
repentance. That hope mayst thou not forego, for the nature of all of us
is weak and clings to life--that straw of the drowning seaman."

"Priest, if such thou art," replied the Hebrew, "I have already, when
first brought to this camp, explained the causes of my detention amongst
the troops of the Moor. It was my zeal for the king of Spain that
brought me into that peril. Escaping from that peril, incurred in his
behalf, is the king of Spain to be my accuser and my judge? If,
however, my life now be sought as the grateful return for the proffer
of inestimable service, I stand here to yield it. Do thy worst; and tell
thy master, that he loses more by my death than he can win by the lives
of thirty thousand warriors."

"Cease this idle babble," said the monk-inquisitor, contemptuously,
"nor think thou couldst ever deceive, with thy empty words, the mighty
intellect of Ferdinand of Spain. Thou hast now to defend thyself against
still graver charges than those of treachery to the king whom thou didst
profess to serve. Yea, misbeliever as thou