`Thou wert awake, Xariffa,' said the
young gazelle-keeper, as he took a seat
by the moon-lit window, which looked
out upon the sparkling water-fall.

`Yes, brother; I cannot sleep when
the moon shines so bright,' she said in a
sweet voice, that was only equalled by
that of Genilla, the Moorish maiden.—
`Where have you been? I went out for
you a little while since.'

`Did you!' he cried with surprise;
`and whom saw you?' he asked, as he
thought he discovered something like
hesitation in her manner.

`I found my father asleep by your
couch, and upon it lay a stranger—a
Moor!'

`And did you not before know he was
here?' he asked, pointedly.

`Teresa, the herd's wife, came in and

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

said you had brought a stranger in, whom
you had found on the mountain; but
when I would have entered the apartment,
my father met me and bade me go
to bed, saying I had no business there.'

`And yet you went again afterwards,'
he said archly.

`Yes, brother. Not being able to sleep,
I was seated by my window looking at
the play of the light upon the cataract,
when I heard a commotion in the gazellefold.
Fearing that a wolf was prewling
near, I went to call you; the door was
unfastened, and I entered; my father
was asleep, and, as I said, I saw the
handsome stranger lying upon your bed.'

`You saw, then, that he was handsome,
Xariffa.

`Yes; and he looked so interesting
and pale that, if he had not been a Moor,
my heart would have felt for him. Still
I could not but pray that his soul might
not be lost.'

`I am glad he saw thee not. Go out
no more while he is here—it were dangerous
for him to see thee!'

Upon hearing her brother say this,
Xariffa refrained from saying further—
that the young stranger did open his eyes
while she was standing looking at him
with sympathizing bosom, and that alarmed
she had fled back to her own room,
and filled with wonder and curiosity to
know who he was and all about him.
She did not tell her brother this, therefore,
nor that it was thinking of the Moor
as, much as the glare of the moonlight
that made her wakeful. She was seated

[figure description] Page 060.[end figure description]

at her window recalling and dwelling
upon his features, when the tap announcing
Alfonzo recalled her to herself.

`I hope you did not stay long when
you discovered him?' said Alfonzo.

`No.'

`And what happened in the fold?—
When was this noise which you heard?'

`An hour ago. When I got back to
my room all was still; I have heard nothing
since, or I should have waked my
father.'

`Why did you not wake him then?'

`For fear he would be displeased at
seeing me there, and also for fear I might
alarm the stranger.'

`I am glad it is no worse. This stranger,
Xariffa, is a Moor. I met him just
at twilight on the mountain: it was at the
meeting of the two paths by the old date
tree—you know that there there is a narrow
ledge?'

`I know it well; it was there you saved
me from the wolf, that would otherwise
have rent me in pieces, dear brother!'
she answered, laying her pretty brown
hand in his, and fixing upon his face from
her dark Andalusian eyes looks of grateful
affection. The moon-beams fell like
a veil of transparent silver upon her pure
brow, and gave a lustre to her beauty
that night and moonlight only can lend.
He let his gaze rest upon her lovely face
for a moment in tender admiration. He
thought how like Genilla were the brow
and deeply shaded eyes; and the voice,
how some of its tones resembled those of
the Moorish maiden;—and he loved Xariffa
more for this resemblance to Genilla,
and his love for Genilla received new impetus
from her likeness to Xariffa.

`On that rock where father Godfrey and
I were resting, with room but for us two,
when this Moor appeared armed with a
broken spear, and with a flushed cheek.
Upon seeing us his bearing became
haughty and he commanded us, calling
us Christian dogs, to let him pass.'

`Alas, he looks so gentle now as he
sleeps?'

`For the sake of Genilla —'

`For her sake! Hast thou not cast
the Moslem girl from thy heart, brother?'
she cried, with surprise and an aspect of
alarm.

`Can I not say for her sake, even if I
have done so? Did I not once love her,
sister Xariffa? Be assured I shall never
hate Genilla,' he said, firmly. `For her
sake, I said I resolved not to resist the
Moor's fierce demand. So I stood aside,
almost hanging over the verge, balanced
by a hold upon the trunk of the date
tree. But the holy hermit, not recognising
the appellation given us, refused to
move, and the fiery Moor aimed a blow
at his breast; but before I could ward it
off, the hand that held the broken spear
dropped by his side powerless and he
sunk at the feet of the good father insensible
and bleeding from a wound which
he before said he had got from an encounter
with a wild boar or a wolf.'

`Father Godfrey at once took pity on
him, for his anger extends not to the unfortunate,
and bade me raise him up and
bear him to the hut. I obeyed. We
dressed his wounds and in the molient
which de poured upon them was a sleeping
power, under which the Moor now
lies. The holy father, who is a skilful
leech, says that by the third day he will
recover and be able to go to his people.'

`Dost thou know who he is, brother?'

`Thou hast too much curiosity, I fear
me, touching him. But thou art discreet,
He is a dangerous person for thee to be
seen by him. He is a Moor! and that is
enough for thee, Xariffa! Thou art
safe now in the ignorance of the lawless
Saracen that so fair a flower as thou art
blooms in the mountain glens; but
whether this man be Prince or peasant,
he will, if he sees thee, bear the fame of
thy beauty to Cordova. From that hour
thou art no longer safe here.'

`There is no danger to me, brother,
from one so noble looking! Prince or
peasant! He is not the latter; and may
be the former.'

`Thou talkest as if thou didst wish it
would prove so. What is it matter to
thee, sister, whether he be the one or the
other. Which wouldst thou most regard
a Christian Peasant, or a Saracen Emir.'

`The peasant, brother. Why shouldst
thou ask me?'

`I thought thy words showed a regard
for this Moor.'

`The Virgin forbid! I pitied but his
misfortunes.'

Alfonzo said no more. He knew
that he, a Christian, madly loved a
Moorish maiden and he found that even

[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]

Xariffa might love a handsome Moorish
youth! But then she had no tie of gratitude
to bind her to the stranger. He
had done her no service to awaken attachment
for him in her young and guiIeless
bosom. In a word, thought he
within himself, she has `no motive,' as I
had, for loving. My fears are groundless.
She is too pure a pupil of the holy
father Godfrey to fix her heart upon an
unbeliever. I will see that he does not
see her, and there will be no danger
from what is past!'

`The hour is late for thee to be
awake,' he said. `I will go and look into
the fold. It may be that a wolf has
been abroad! Did you hear Ban give
the alarm?'

`Yes, he barked violently at the time.
But, as I said, all was soon silent again!'

`It was perhaps only a false alarm.
But I will go out and see. I shall then
return to watch with this stranger, who I
wish was safe in Cordova. But it is father
Godfrey's commands that I extend
to him the usages of mountain hospitality
until he is well. Ere many hours he will
awake, and perhaps he will need a
nurse's care.'

`I will give it, brother.'

`No, no! It would be setting the
dove to watch the new-fledged hawk. I
will see Teresa Pablo's wife and entrust
this duty to her. I shall be in the
mountains all day. Wilt thou promise
me one thing, Xariffa?'

`Whatever thou desirest brother. I
can deny nothing to thy request.'

`Then go not near him on the morrow.
Keep out of his sight with discreet care.
I have good reasons for it. Would to
the saints he had never been led this
way, and thus cast upon me. But if we
must harbour the lion, we must take heed
that he does us no harm.'

`I promise you, brother. The Moor is
handsome, but do not fear for my heart,'
she said, laughing. `I could never love
a Moor, were he an angel.'

`I question whether there are many
Moors who are angels, or are like to be.'

`What; not Genilla! But I ought not
to speak to thee of her. Fear not for me.
I care not for him, save that I shall pray
for his soul.'

`Thou hadst best not. It will make
thee think of him in thy prayers, when
thou shouldst be thinking of the Virgin,
and her beloved son. It will do thee no
good to pray for this Infidel, sister. Let
him alone. Only promise me he shall not
see thee.'

`This I have already done.'

`Then good night. I now go to the
fold, and if all is quiet I shall go back to
the room where our guest lies, und there
watch with him till he wakes. Good
night sister. The saints keep thee in
their safe keeping.'

`And guard thee also, brother,' she
answered, as she withdrew her graceful
form from the gentle embrace of his fraternal
arm.

Alfonzo went out to see if all were
quiet in the fold. He passed first along
a narrow walk by the side of the cabin,
and came to a gate-way in a high picketed
enclosure, over which a brow of the
mountain hung like a roof. It was a close
and sheltered covert, and inaccessible to
wolves save only from the rock above;
from which more than once these fierce
beasts had boldly leaped from a height of
thirty feet into the midst of the herd.
But it was a leap to certain death, for escape
being denied them, tbey always
were slain after fiercely combatting with
Gaspar or Alfonzo. The latter now
walked around the fold and found all
quiet. Ban the dog came near, and rubbed
his head against his side, and seemed
unusually alert; but there were no
signs of an enemy. The gazelles were
all quietly nestled in one corner of the
fold, and all wore an air of peace and security.

He then left the spot, pausing an instant
to gaze upon the dark mountains
around him, and casting a glance at the
skies in which the moon walked in her
brightness, attended by the brightest stars
of the night's train.

He now re-entered the cabin and approached
the couch. The Moor awoke
as he came near, or rather raised his eyes
and closed them again, murmuring a few
words. Alfonzo went near him, when
he again raised his eye-lids, and gazed
upon him.

Allah, give me memory,' he said,
where am I? Who art thou?'

`Thy host, Moor. Take this. It is a
portion left thee by a skilful leech.'

The young man took it with looks

[figure description] Page 062.[end figure description]

partly unconscious, and a bewildered air.
Who art thou?' he asked again.

`Thy friend. Sleep and get strength,
for thou hast need of it,' said Alfonzo,
who saw that he was yet but partially
restored to consciousness.

`I have seen a vision. I thought I had
been in Paradise. A houri came and
bent over me, and told me that I was
immortal. But who art thou? What
dreary place is this? This is no paradise,
for thou art a Christian dog.'

`Moor,'—began Alfonzo; but checked
the indignant words that leaped to his
lips. The next moment the Infidel was
buried in profound sleep as before.

`He is asleep. How quickly. He
was not fully awake. What meant he
by that vision. Xariffa is as lovely as
the houri of this Mahommedan's paradise.
Could he have seen her. The Virgin
mother forbid. Yet I feel troubled at his
words. I hope he will sleep well, and
depart sound at early dawn. I will help
him away. I know not why, but I feel a
foreboding of evil weighing upon my
heart through this man. He shall depart
at dawn. if I have to take him again upon
my shoulders and thus carry him within
a stone's throw of the gate of Cordova.'