“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 is the king’s bond!”
The Hebrew took up the scroll with imperturbable composure, “My child!” said he; “will your majesty summon back my child? we would depart.”
“A sturdy mendicant this, by the Virgin!” muttered the king; and then, speaking aloud, “Give me the paper, I will scan it.”
Running his eyes hastily over the words, Ferdinand paused a moment, and then drew towards him the implements of writing, signed the scroll, and returned it to Almamen.
The Israelite kissed it thrice with oriental veneration, and replaced it in his breast.
Ferdinand looked at him hard and curiously. He was a profound reader of men’s characters; but that of his guest baffled and perplexed him.
“And how, stranger,” said he, gravely,—“how can I trust that man who thus distrusts one king and sells another?”
“O king!” replied Almamen (accustomed from his youth to commune with and command the possessors of thrones yet more absolute),—“O king! if thou believest me actuated by personal and selfish interests in this our compact, thou has but to make, my service minister to my interest, and the lore of human nature will tell thee that thou hast won a ready and submissive slave. But if thou thinkest I have avowed sentiments less abject, and developed qualities higher than those of the mere bargainer for sordid power, oughtest thou not to rejoice that chance has thrown into thy way one whose intellect and faculties may be made thy tool? If I betray another, that other is my deadly foe. Dost not thou, the lord of armies, betray thine enemy? The Moor is an enemy bitterer to myself than to thee. Because I betray an enemy, am I unworthy to serve a friend? If I, a single man, and a stranger to the Moor, can yet command the secrets of palaces, and render vain the counsels of armed men, have I not in that attested that I am one of whom a wise king can make an able servant?”
“Thou art a subtle reasoner, my friend,” said Ferdinand, smiling gently. “Peace go with thee! our conference for the time is ended. What ho, Perez!” The attendant appeared.
“Thou hast left the maiden with the queen?”
“Sire, you have been obeyed.”
“Conduct this stranger to the guard who led him through the camp. He quits us under the same protection. Farewell! yet stay—thou art assured that Muza Ben Abil Gazan is in the prisons of the Moor?”
“Yes.”
“Blessed be the Virgin!”
“Thou hast heard our conference, Father Tomas?” said the king, anxiously, when the Hebrew had withdrawn.
“I have, son.”
“Did thy veins freeze with horror?”
“Only when my son signed the scroll. It seemed to me then that I saw the cloven foot of the tempter.”
“Tush, father, the tempter would have been more wise than to reckon upon a faith which no ink and no parchment can render valid, if the Church absolve the compact. Thou understandest me, father?”
“I do. I know your pious heart and well-judging mind.”
“Thou wert right,” resumed the king, musingly, “when thou didst tell us that these caitiff Jews were waxing strong in the fatness of their substance. They would have equal laws—the insolent blasphemers!”
“Son!” said the Dominican, with earnest adjuration, “God, who has prospered your arms and councils, will require at your hands an account of the power intrusted to you. Shall there be no difference between His friends and His foes—His disciples and His crucifiers?”
“Priest,” said the king, laying his hand on the monk’s shoulder, and with a saturnine smile upon his countenance, “were religion silent in this matter, policy has a voice loud enough to make itself heard. The Jews demand equal rights; when men demand equality with their masters, treason is at work, and justice sharpens her sword. Equality! these wealthy usurers! Sacred Virgin! they would be soon buying up our kingdoms.”
The Dominican gazed hard on the king. “Son, I trust thee,” he said, in a low voice, and glided from the tent.
CHAPTER II. THE AMBUSH, THE STRIFE, AND THE CAPTURE
The dawn was slowly breaking over the wide valley of Granada, as Almamen pursued his circuitous and solitary path back to the city. He was now in a dark and entangled hollow, covered with brakes and bushes, from