The horsemen dashed over the body of the stunned and insensible Spaniard.
Tree and mountain glided by; gradually the valley vanished, and a thick
forest loomed upon their path. Still they made on, though the interlaced
boughs and the ruggedness of the footing somewhat obstructed their way;
until, as the sun began slowly to decline, they entered a broad and
circular space, round which trees of the eldest growth spread their
motionless and shadowy boughs. In the midmost sward was a rude and
antique stone, resembling the altar of some barbarous and departed creed.
Here Almamen abruptly halted, and muttered inaudibly to himself.

"What moves thee, dark stranger?" said the Moor; "and why dost thou
mutter and gaze on space?"

Almamen answered not, but dismounted, hung his bridle to a branch of a
scathed and riven elm, and advanced alone into the middle of the space.
"Dread and prophetic power that art within me!" said the Hebrew, aloud,--
"this, then, is the spot that, by dream and vision, thou hast foretold me
wherein to consummate and record the vow that shall sever from the spirit
the last weakness of the flesh. Night after night hast thou brought
before mine eyes, in darkness and in slumber, the solemn solitude that I
now survey. Be it so! I am prepared!"

Thus speaking, he retired for a few moments into the wood: collected in
his arms the dry leaves and withered branches which cumbered the desolate
clay, and placed the fuel upon the altar. Then, turning to the East, and
raising his hands he exclaimed, "Lo! upon this altar, once worshipped,
perchance, by the heathen savage, the last bold spirit of thy fallen and
scattered race dedicates, O Ineffable One! that precious offering Thou
didst demand from a sire of old. Accept the sacrifice!"