un was now sinking slowly through those masses of purple cloud
which belong to Iberian skies; when, emerging from the forest, the
travellers saw before them a small and lovely plain, cultivated like a
garden. Rows of orange and citron trees were backed by the dark green
foliage of vines; and these again found a barrier in girdling copses
of chestnut, oak, and the deeper verdure of pines: while, far to
the horizon, rose the distant and dim outline of the mountain range,
scarcely distinguishable from the mellow colourings of the heaven.
Through this charming spot went a slender and sparkling torrent, that
collected its waters in a circular basin, over which the rose and orange
hung their contrasted blossoms. On a gentle eminence above this plain,
or garden, rose the spires of a convent: and, though it was still clear
daylight, the long and pointed lattices were illumined within; and,
as the horsemen cast their eyes upon the pile, the sound of the holy
chorus--made more sweet and solemn from its own indistinctness, from the
quiet of the hour, from the sudden and sequestered loveliness of that
spot, suiting so well the ideal calm of the conventual life--rolled its
music through the odorous and lucent air.

But that scene and that sound, so calculated to soothe and harmonise the
thought, seemed to arouse Almamen into agony and passion. He smote his
breast with his clenched hand; and, shrieking, rather than exclaiming,
"God of my fathers! have I come too late?" buried his spurs to the
rowels in the sides of his panting steed. Along the sward, through the
fragrant shrubs, athwart the pebbly and shallow torrent, up the ascent
to the convent, sped the Israelite. Muza, wondering and half reluctant,
followed at a little distance. Clearer and nearer came the voices of the
choir; broader and redder glowed the tapers from the Gothic casements:
the porch of the convent chapel was reached; the Hebrew sprang from his
horse. A small group of the peasants dependent on the convent loitered
reverently round the threshold; pushing through them, as one frantic,
Almamen entered the chapel and disappeared.

A minute elapsed. Muza was at the door; but the Moor paused
irresolutely, ere he dismounted. "What is the ceremony?" he asked of the
peasants.

"A nun is about to take the vows," answered one of them.

A cry of alarm, of indignation, of terror, was heard within. Muza no
longer delayed: he gave his steed to the bystanders, pushed aside the