I would be alone."

"We meet to-morrow, at midnight, mighty Boabdil," said Almamen, with his
usual unmoved and passionless tones. "May the king live for ever."

The king turned; but his monitor had already disappeared. He went as he
came--noiseless and sudden as a ghost.




CHAPTER III.

THE LOVERS.

When Muza parted from Almamen, he bent his steps towards the hill that
rises opposite the ascent crowned with the towers of the Alhambra; the
sides and summit of which eminence were tenanted by the luxurious
population of the city. He selected the more private and secluded paths;
and, half way up the hill, arrived, at last, before a low wall of
considerable extent, which girded the gardens of some wealthier
inhabitant of the city. He looked long and anxiously round; all was
solitary; nor was the stillness broken, save as an occasional breeze,
from the snowy heights of the Sierra Nevada, rustled the fragrant leaves
of the citron and pomegranate; or as the silver tinkling of waterfalls
chimed melodiously within the gardens. The Moor's heart beat high: a
moment more, and he had scaled the wall; and found himself upon a green
sward, variegated by the rich colours of many a sleeping flower, and
shaded by groves and alleys of luxuriant foliage and golden fruits.