still alone in the dwelling of the stranger."

"Unhappy child!" muttered Isabel to herself; "thou knowest not his
treason nor his fate--yet why shouldst thou? Ignorant of what would
render thee blest hereafter, continue ignorant of what would afflict
thee here. Be cheered, maiden," answered the queen, aloud. "No doubt,
there are reasons sufficient to forbid your meeting. But thou shalt not
lack friends in the dwelling-house of the stranger."

"Ah, noble queen, pardon me, and one word more! There hath been with me,
more than once, a stern old man, whose voice freezes the blood within my
veins; he questions me of my father, and in the tone of a foe who would
entrap from the child something to the peril of the sire. That man--thou
knowest him, gracious queen--he cannot have the power to harm my
father?"

"Peace, maiden! the man thou speakest of is the priest of God, and the
innocent have nothing to dread from his reverend zeal. For thyself, I
say again, be cheered; in the home to which I consign thee thou wilt see
him no more. Take comfort, poor child--weep not: all have their cares;
our duty is to bear in this life, reserving hope only for the next."

The queen, destined herself to those domestic afflictions which pomp
cannot soothe, nor power allay, spoke with a prophetic sadness which
yet more touched a heart that her kindness of look and tone had already
softened; and, in the impulse of a nature never tutored in the rigid
ceremonials of that stately court, Leila suddenly came forward, and
falling on one knee, seized the hand of her protectress, and kissed it
warmly through her tears.

"Are you, too, unhappy?" she said. "I will pray for you to _my_ God!"

The queen, surprised and moved at an action which, had witnesses been
present, would only perhaps (for such is human nature) have offended
her Castilian prejudices, left her hand in Leila's grateful clasp; and
laying the other upon the parted and luxuriant ringlets of the kneeling
maiden, said, gently,--"And thy prayers shall avail thee and me when thy
God and mine are the same. Bless thee, maiden! I am a mother; thou art
motherless--bless thee!"

CHAPTER II. THE TEMPTATION OF THE JEWESS,--IN WHICH THE HISTORY PASSES FROM THE
OUTWARD TO THE INTERNAL.

It was about the very hour, almost the very moment, in which Almamen
effected his mysterious escape from the tent of the Inquisition, that
the train accompanying the litter which bore Leila, and which was
c