he fierce and quick-sighted Zegris
instantly suspected some evil intention in his visit; and when Muza, in
surprise, yielded to the prayer of the vizier for a private audience,
it was with scowling brows and sparkling eyes that the Moorish warriors
left the darling of the nobles alone with the messenger of their king.

"By the tomb of the prophet!" said one of the Zegris, as he quitted the
hall, "the timid Boabdil suspects our Ben Abil Gazan. I learned of this
before."

"Hush!" said another of the band; "let us watch. If the king touch a
hair of Muza's head, Allah have mercy on his sins!"

Meanwhile, the vizier, in silence, showed to Muza the firman and the
signet; and then, without venturing to announce the place to which he
was commissioned to conduct the prince, besought him to follow at once.
Muza changed colour, but not with fear.

"Alas!" said he, in a tone of deep sorrow, "can it be that I have fallen
under my royal kinsman's suspicion or displeasure? But no matter; proud
to set to Granada an example of valour in her defence, be it mine to
set, also, an example of obedience to her king. Go on--I will follow
thee. Yet stay, you will have no need of guards; let us depart by a
private egress: the Zegris might misgive, did they see me leave
the palace with you at the very time the army are assembling in the
Vivarrambla, and awaiting my presence. This way."

Thus saying, Muza, who, fierce as he was, obeyed every impulse that the
oriental loyalty dictated from a subject to a king, passed from the hall
to a small door that admitted into the garden, and in thoughtful silence
accompanied the vizier towards the Alhambra. As they passed the copse in
which Muza, two nights before, had met with Almamen, the Moor, lifting
his head suddenly, beheld fixed upon him the dark eyes of the magician,
as he emerged from the trees. Muza thought there was in those eyes a
malign and hostile exultation; but Almamen, gravely saluting him, passed
on through the grove: the prince did not deign to look back, or he might
once more have encountered that withering gaze.

"Proud heathen!" muttered Almamen to himself, "thy father filled his
treasuries from the gold of many a tortured Hebrew; and even thou, too
haughty to be the miser, hast been savage enough to play the bigot. Thy
name is a curse in Israel; yet dost thou lust after the daughter of our
despised race, and, could defeated passion sting thee, I were avenged.
Ay, sweep on, with th