returned to the spot equally in vain, his impatience and alarm could no longer be restrained; he resolved to lie in watch by the portals of the house night and day, until, at least, he could discover some one of the inmates, whom he could question of his love, and perhaps bribe to his service. As with this resolution he was hovering round the mansion, he beheld, stealing from a small door in one of the low wings of the house, a bended and decrepit form: it supported its steps upon a staff; and, as now entering the garden, it stooped by the side of a fountain to cull flowers and herbs by the light of the moon, the Moor almost started to behold a countenance which resembled that of some ghoul or vampire haunting the places of the dead. He smiled at his own fear; and, with a quick and stealthy pace, hastened through the trees, and, gaining the spot where the old man bent, placed his hand on his shoulder ere his presence was perceived.
Ximen—for it was he—looked round eagerly, and a faint cry of terror broke from his lips.
"Hush!" said the Moor; "fear me not, I am a friend. Thou art old, man—gold is ever welcome to the aged." As he spoke, he dropped several broad pieces into the breast of the Jew, whose ghastly features gave forth a yet more ghastly smile, as he received the gift, and mumbled forth,
"Charitable young man! generous, benevolent, excellent young man!"
"Now then," said Muza, "tell me—you belong to this house—Leila, the maiden within—tell me of her is she well?"
"I trust so," returned the Jew; "I trust so, noble master."
"Trust so! know you not of her state?"
"Not I; for many nights I have not seen her, excellent sir," answered Ximen;" she hath left Granada, she hath gone. You waste your time, and mar your precious health amidst these nightly dews: they are unwholesome, very unwholesome, at the time of the new moon."
"Gone!" echoed the Moor; "left Granada!—woe is me!—and whither? there, there, more gold for you,—old man, tell me whither?"
"Alas! I know not, most magnanimous young man; I am but a servant—I know nothing."
"When will she return?"
"I cannot tell thee."
"Who is thy master? who owns yon mansion?"
Ximen's countenance fell; he looked round in doubt and fear, and then, after a short pause, answered,—"A wealthy man, good
