mate 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!"

As the Hebrew ended his adjuration he drew a phial from his bosom, and
sprinkled a few drops upon the arid fuel. A pale blue flame suddenly
leaped up; and, as it lighted the haggard but earnest countenance of
the Israelite, Muza felt his Moorish blood congeal in his veins, and
shuddered, though he scarce knew why. Almamen, with his dagger, severed
from his head one of his long locks, and cast it upon the flame. He
watched it until it was consumed; and then, with a stifled cry, fell
upon the earth in a dead swoon. The Moor hastened to raise him; he
chafed his hands and temples; he unbuckled the vest upon his bosom; he
forgot that his comrade was a sorcerer and a Jew, so much had the agony
of that excitement moved his sympathy.

It was not till several minutes had elapsed that Almamen, with a
deep-drawn sigh, recovered from his swoon. "Ah, beloved one! bride of my
heart!" he murmured, "was it for this that thou didst commend to me
the only pledge of our youthful love? Forgive me! I restore her to the
earth, untainted by the Gentile." He closed his eyes again, and a strong
convulsion shook his frame. It passed; and he rose as a man from a
fearful dream, composed, and almost as it were refreshed, by the terrors
he had undergone. The last glimmer of the ghastly light was dying away
upon that ancient altar, and a low wind crept sighing through the trees.

"Mount, prince," said Almamen, calmly, but averting his eyes from the
altar; "we shall have no more delays."

"Wilt thou not explain thy incantation?" asked Muza; "or is it, as my
reason tells me, but the mummery of a juggler?"

"Alas! alas!" answered Almamen, in a sad and altered tone, "thou wilt
soon know all."

CHAPTER V. THE SACRIFICE.

The s