y belonged to other creed and nation than
that of the Moslem.

"Bermudo," said Caneri, addressing himself to the personage in question,
"thou art unusually abstracted to-day, far more than for some time past
I have known thee."

"Bermudo!" exclaimed the other indignantly; "Bermudo! Call me no more by
a name so hateful;--a name that brings to my recollection my miseries
and my crimes. It is an ominous, a detested sound, that rings in my ear,
to tell me that I was once a Christian--an injured man; and that I am
_now_----"

"A valiant Moor," interrupted Caneri.

"A vile renegade!" retorted Bermudo with a sneer. "A renegade; for thou
canst not gild the bitter potion, nor will I attempt to disguise my
character. I am a ruffian; but I have pledged myself to serve the Moors,
and I WILL serve them faithfully, actively, to the last breath of my
loathed existence."

"Thy services, indeed, have been most valuable," said Caneri, "and
grateful are the Moors for the interest thou evincest in their cause."

"Tush," cried the renegade; "thank me not. It is not my love for the
Moors that prompts my services, but my hatred to the Christians. No,
Caneri, I will not admit acknowledgments which I little deserve. You say
that I am brave and active--'tis true. I can endure privations, and
encounter dangers; but in so doing, I look not to advance the interests
of the Moorish cause, but to serve that of my revenge. No, I anticipate
no triumphs; I live merely for the gratification of vengeance for wrongs
long past, but too deeply rooted in this heart to be ever forgotten." As
he pronounced these last words his frame shook with agitation.

"Calm thyself, Alagraf," said Caneri, "since thou hast adopted that
name, and art now----"

"A traitor!" cried the renegade, interrupting him. "I am a traitor to my
faith and country. Nay, do not attempt to palliate a name in which I
glory. I well know the vile thing that I am considered. My career is a
dark one; and the passion which fires my heart, and nerves my arm,
cannot ennoble my deeds of valour, but may at least satisfy my craving:
and that is enough--I am a villain; but woe to the man who made me what
I am. May the curse of despair, may the venom that festers here (and he
forcibly smote his breast) poison and corrode the life of him who
planted it in a heart kind by nature, and designed for virtue; but by
one bad man driven to revolting crime."

"Thy wrongs," interposed Caneri, "shall be ave