he honor of
his falling house. Don Manuel was a man, and this transitory feeling of
regret was natural to a father under his affliction, who knew not to
whom to turn for consolation and advice.

Gomez Arias, who had insensibly won his favor, departed the next day
for Granada, in which quarter he had no longer any danger to apprehend.
He was anxious to assume his station in the war against the rebel Moors.
Monteblanco considered his intention not only just, but highly
commendable, and a tear coursed down the old man's cheek, as he took
leave of the seducer of his child, and the cause of his present
misfortunes.

CHAPTER XIII.

D'une secrete horreur je me sens frissoner;
Je crains, malgre moi-meme, un malheur que j'ignore.

_Racine._

Senor Gomez Arias
Duelete de mi
Que soy nina y sola
Nunca en tal me vi.

_Calderon._

It was a rich and splendid summer evening. The sun was slowly sinking
behind the giant mountains of the Alpujarras, whose dark fantastic
shadows were gradually lengthening along the plains below. No intruding
sound broke upon the soft stillness of the scene, save when the
feathered tenants of the forest warbled their evening song, or the
tolling of a distant convent bell reverberated through the sombre
recesses of the mountains. A soft languor prevailed over the sylvan
scenery. The fancifully wreathing clouds, streaked with the red and
gold of the lingering sun--the variegated tints of those quiet
solitudes--the warm, chequered streams of light that glanced on the
broad-leafed tree, or fitfully quivered over the straggling
streamlet--the calm repose which reigned over that wide extending
landscape, all tended to raise the mind to contemplation, and to
interest the heart.

At this tranquil hour, a group, consisting of three persons, were seen
slowly ascending a green sloping height, which seemed designed by nature
as a first resting place in the severe ascent of the gigantic mountain.
The first of the party was a knight of most gallant bearing, and mounted
on a shining black steed. Close by his side rode a beautiful damsel,
whose long redundant tresses were with difficulty restrained in a fillet
of silver lace. She wore a long riding habit; a Spanish hat, ornamented
with a plume of black feathers, was hanging gracefully on one side of
her head. Having thrown aside the thick veil which had protected her
fro