Almamen, in the meanwhile, sought, through dark and subterranean
passages, known only to himself, his accustomed home. He passed much of
the night alone; but, ere the morning star announced to the mountain tops
the presence of the sun, he stood, prepared for his journey, in his
secret vault, by the door of the subterranean passages, with old Ximen
beside him.

"I go, Ximen," said Almamen, "upon a doubtful quest: whether I discover
my daughter, and succeed in bearing her in safety from their
contaminating grasp, or whether I fall into their snares and perish,
there is an equal chance that I may return no more to Granada. Should
this be so, you will be heir to such wealth as I leave in these places I
know that your age will be consoled for the lack of children when your
eyes look upon the laugh of gold."

Ximen bowed low, and mumbled out some inaudible protestations and thanks.
Almamen sighed heavily as he looked round the room. "I have evil omens
in my soul, and evil prophecies in my books," said he, mournfully. "But
the worst is here," he added, putting his finger significantly to his
temples; "the string is stretched--one more blow would snap it."

As he thus said, he opened the door and vanished through that labyrinth
of galleries by which he was enabled at all times to reach unobserved
either the palace of the Alhambra or the gardens without the gates of the
city.

Ximen remained behind a few moments in deep thought. "All mine if he
dies!" said he: "all mine if he does not return! All mine, all mine!
and I have not a child nor a kinsman in the world to clutch it away from