CHAPTER XIII.

Per gli antri, e per le selve ognun traea Allor la vita, nè fra setà, o lane Le sue ruvide membra ravvolgea.

_Metastasio._

At a short distance from Granada there is a place called _El cerro de los Martires_,[42] which traditionary lore had invested with most appalling histories. This place abounded in deep caverns and subterranean vaults, in which it was a received tradition that the Moors used in former times to shut their Christian captives, and make them undergo dreadful torments. By the vicissitudes of fortune, however, these dungeons were now converted into secure retreats by the fallen and dispersed Moors. Several of these lurking places had already been traced out by the unwearied perseverance of the Spaniards, or betrayed through the treachery of mercenary Moors, but there still were some remaining which baffled every research, and whose existence known only to some of the principal and most faithful Moors, were in no danger at least of immediate discovery.

To these subterraneous habitations a considerable portion of the shattered forces of Cañeri had repaired, whilst some of the bolder party of El Feri de Benastepar had fearlessly sought refuge in Granada, where, in despite of the severe decrees promulgated by the queen, and the examples made of those who had infringed them, the rebels nevertheless found shelter and protection from their fellow-countrymen. Thus while the rebellion seemed quelled to all appearance, it was not entirely extinguished. A secret fire still slumbered under the ashes, ready to burst forth when a master hand could be found to raise the flame. But the want of unity amongst the Moors, and the general dispersion which had ensued after the destruction of their last town, seemed to offer an insurmountable bar to the organization of a second revolt. Besides, the death of El Feri had struck the hearts of his followers with dismay, and there was no Moor of sufficient talent or enterprize to supply his place.

Things were in this state, when at the close of a sultry day three men were seen cautiously traversing the path which led towards _El cerro de los Martires_. The foremost, who appeared to act as guide, from his robust and athletic make, and the lowering expression of his countenance, might be easily recognized as Bermudo, the renegade; the others were strangers, and apparently disguised. They proceeded onwards, slowly, and with care, until at length they stopped at a sequestered spot, overgrown with brambles, and surrounded with high and widely spreading trees, whose sombre foliage offered an impenetrable barrier to the light of day. They plunged into the midst of this wilderness, and presently the renegade blew a soft and hollow blast, when the thicket suddenly seemed to move, and discovered an aperture which had hitherto been concealed. The two Moors, for such they were, and their guide, then descended through the opening into a deep and winding subterraneous passage. After a descent of a few minutes, they found themselves in a spacious vault hewn out of the solid rock and illumined by a solitary lamp, which afforded only light sufficient to render the darkness more dismal, and to give an indistinct view of forms and countenances naturally repulsive, rendered still more so by apparent want and exhaustion. About a dozen men and two or three women were reposing at length in different parts of the cave, without any other covering than their tattered dresses, and bearing on their features an expression of resolute despair.

At the further extremity of the cavern, which was somewhat elevated, and rendered more tenantable by several pieces of an old carpet, reclined a man of better appearance, whose apparel had evidently not undergone such severe service as those of his companions. This personage it might easily be supposed was the chief of those who, from their exterior, might, without any great deviation from the rules of inferences, be denominated a gang of desperate robbers. But it seldom happens that robbers in the vicinity of a rich and populous city are to be found in a state of such utter destitution; and if such were really the case, it might puzzle the beholder to discover what possible inducement they could have to continue in so unprofitable a profession.

As soon as the renegade and his two companions entered that cheerless and uncomfortable dwelling, all those woe-begone and lugubrious countenances suddenly acquired a degree of animation. It was not without reason; for the renegade and one of his companions laid down some provisions, whilst the other stood with his arms folded, a calm spectator of these proceedings, contemplating with deep attention the group before him.

"Alagraf! Malique!" cried the seated personage above designated: "Who is that stranger?"

"Fear not, Cañeri," whispered the renegade, "this is a friend--nay, perhaps the sincerest adherent and the bravest supporter of the Moors in their present condition."

"Certainly from his proud bearing in our presence," replied Cañeri, with offended dignity, "one might, indeed, be led to suppose him a person of consequence, did not those unseemly habiliments contradict such a conclusion."

The stranger answered not, but contented himself with casting a look of mingled pity and scorn on the mighty potentate of the cavern. The chief, however, was prevented from inquiring more minutely into the pretensions of one who appeared little disposed to pay him unqualified deference, by the shrill and croaking voice of Marien Rufa, who at that moment was actively engaged in heaping a redundance of abuse on the devoted head of her husband Aboukar. The squabble, as far as it could be ascertained amidst the confused din, originated in some provisions which the provident Aboukar, in his capacity of ex-master of the household, judiciously concluded ought to come by right under his control; accordingly, _secundum artem_, he had entered on his official duties by secreting a portion of the said provisions for his own private use, before they were either served up to Cañeri, or finally distributed amongst his hungry and rapacious band. Marien Rufa had observed the sly larceny, but what in the name of conjugal regard could have induced the crone to so unkind and unmatrimonial an action as the exposure of her own husband, is not easily to be determined. An upright and indulgent person might be tempted to believe it was a proper regard and tenderness for the purity of his character; but others, not quite so considerate, would suspect, and perhaps with a nearer semblance of truth, that the unamiable spouse was instigated by a less honorable motive. It was a fact, not to be contradicted, that Marien Rufa and her once beloved Aboukar, at present detested as cordially as they had formerly loved each other; which curious phenomenon in the condition of matrimony is not of such rare occurrence as to need any particular investigation into its nature or origin.

As soon as Cañeri observed the disturbance, conjecturing from the character of the belligerents that the commotion was likely to increase apace, he rose suddenly from his seat, an action which clearly indicated the extent of his indignation, and with vehemence exclaimed--

"Silence! What means this disturbance? Slaves, is this your respect for your chief? Explain; what is the cause of this unwarrantable breach of decorum?"

No sooner had Cañeri uttered the word "explain," than Marien Rufa, conscious no doubt of her explanatory talents, in a most discordant tone began:--

"Please your Mightiness, the cause of----"

"Stop, stop," cried Cañeri; "I do not wish _thee_ to explain." Then, turning, he demanded an explanation from Malique, who, in a few words, corroborated the statement of Marien Rufa respecting the ugly trick of which Aboukar stood accused. Upon this, Cañeri, after pondering some time, and gently striking his forehead as if to conjure some luminous idea,--

"Malique," he cried, "bring hither the source of contention."

The provisions were immediately placed before him, and the sapient chief, after putting aside a portion for his own use, wisely proceeded to give his judgment.

"Here, Malique," he said, "distribute these amongst you all, except the convicted culprit and his accuser."

This retributive justice was greatly applauded by the surrounding party, whose looks clearly indicated the high opinion they entertained of their chief's wise decision; although their ravenous hunger might have, indeed, contributed somewhat to the enhancement of their approbation. The renegade and the new comer stood silent spectators of the scene, but they could not disguise the expression of their contempt both for the degraded state of their companions, and the foolish importance with which the vain-glorious Cañeri comported himself.

Peace being thus restored by the chief's sagacious intervention,--

"Now, Alagraf," he said, "what tidings dost thou bring from Granada? Will thy expectations be fulfilled, and my wishes crowned with success? What further inquiries hast thou made relating to Theodora?"

"I have not been idle," sullenly answered the renegade.

"And yet," returned Cañeri, "I fear exceedingly that our mutual hopes will be disappointed."

"Not so, Cañeri," retorted Bermudo; "but this is no time to enter upon that subject, for another of greater importance has a previous claim to our notice."

"By the holy Prophet!" exclaimed Cañeri, with displeasure, "I should imagine that an affair in which I am interested, is, of itself, sufficient to command immediate attention: Explain, then," he added impatiently, "that which concerns me most."

"Moor!" cried the renegade with anger, "thou surely must forget that I am not thy slave: no, by my sword, I will not speak of these matters until I think the time befitting."

Cañeri was thunderstruck at this open act of insubordination; he rolled his eyes in choler, and looked on his band as if appealing to them to chastise the insolence of the renegade. But though those bold words had thrown the Moors into some consternation, yet no one dared to move a step, so much were they awed by the composed demeanor with which the renegade gazed upon them.

"Alagraf," said Cañeri, disguising his indignation, "are then my injunctions openly to be disregarded before my people?"

"Cañeri," answered the renegade resolutely, "you urge me too far, and you ought to know me better."

A murmur of discontent prevailed among the band, which was about to break forth against the renegade, when, suddenly, their movement was checked by the stranger Moor, who advanced towards them in a threatening attitude.

"Peace!" he exclaimed; "peace! ye abject, paltry slaves!"

"And who art thou," demanded Cañeri, trembling with rage, "that darest thus arrogate to thyself the power of dictating in my presence?"

"I am, Cañeri," answered the stranger haughtily, "thy superior in all, except in vice."

"Seize him!" roared out Cañeri. "Seize the wretch!"

"Stay!" cried Malique, interposing; "lay not your hands upon that man.--Most mighty Cañeri," he then added, addressing the indignant chief, "Mohabed Alhamdem, our opulent brother at Granada, has intrusted that Moor to our care, commanding us to lead him hither; he has most important matters to communicate, and, if the word of Mohabed is to be credited, it is from this stranger alone that the Moors may expect their salvation."

"Who, then, is this mighty personage?" demanded Cañeri, with a scornful sneer.

"He will himself inform you," replied the renegade. "Cañeri, you know how firmly I am devoted to the Moorish cause; why then was I insulted when it was only to advance the interests of that cause I spoke? But let that pass; I am no pettish boy to quarrel with my associates for a word uttered intemperately in an unguarded moment."

He held his hand in token of reconciliation, and then continued:--"Theodora, if appearances amounting almost to certainty deceive me not, will be yours, ere long."

"Is it possible?" exclaimed Cañeri. "When?"

"To-night or never," replied Bermudo. "Shortly I shall disclose to you all the particulars of my transaction; and now let us examine on what resources we can depend for a renewal of the insurrection."

"Resources! None," said Cañeri, "Our surviving men are dispersed and worn out by repeated misfortunes; most of our chiefs are dead, or have passed over to Africa, and the only man who had the power of rallying the straggling Moors, he who alone succeeded in imparting confidence to his followers, El Feri de Benastepar, is now no more: fallen by the arm of Aguilar, he shared the fate of those brave men who mingled their own ashes with those of Alhacen."

"El Feri de Benastepar is not dead," cried the renegade.

Cañeri and his men started from the ground with an instinctive impulse of returning courage, and all, with one accord, sent up an exclamation of joyful surprise.

"But where is the chief, then?" demanded Cañeri.

"There!" replied Bermudo, pointing to the stranger.

"Yes," said he, throwing aside his disguise; "yes, Cañeri, in this humble garb, which necessity has compelled me to adopt, do you again behold El Feri; conquered by Alonso de Aguilar, but miraculously rescued from the grasp of death to redeem the tarnished glories of the Moorish name; to close again in combat with the proud Christian chief, and, with the assistance of the holy Prophet, to doom him to that untimely death which he vainly imagines he has inflicted on me."

A simultaneous murmur of approbation ran through the surrounding party; even Cañeri, jealous as he was of the superior power and glory of El Feri, hailed with real satisfaction his unexpected appearance amongst them; for in the imagination of Cañeri were revived those hopes of asserting the station of fancied dignity from which he had been hurled by the late overthrow of the Moors. He again clung to the fond idea that the Moslem cause would ultimately triumph, and then he of necessity must succeed to a conspicuous share of power, to which he conceived himself entitled by his distinguished birth.

Thus the Moors, whom, but a moment before, we have seen in the lowest state of dejection, now flew to the opposite extreme: they pictured to their fancy the wonderful powers of El Feri, and the magic influence which his name would possess in calling again his countrymen to arms, while the desperate nature of such an undertaking, and the obstacles with which it was on every side beset, vanished altogether before their sanguine expectations.

The renegade beheld this general emotion with more signs of discontent than satisfaction; he argued little advantage to be derived from men, who could so easily pass from the depths of despondence to the summit of hope; for to a man like himself, endowed with strong passions, but accustomed to watch progressively their workings, such sudden transitions betrayed a weakness utterly incompatible with desperate enterprises.

"But how," now inquired Cañeri, addressing El Feri, "has thy precious life been preserved?"

"When I fell by the arm of Aguilar," returned El Feri, "it was more from the excessive fatigue which I had for several days endured, than from the nature of the wounds inflicted--they were not mortal; and as I lay extended and helpless on the ground, I thought upon my country, and my heart sunk within me when I considered that my life, which might still have been preserved to her service, would soon, alas! be lost in a fiery grave. The town was deserted--nought was heard but the crackling of the flames, and the groans of those that were dying around me. Our enemies were gone, and I, collecting my small remaining strength, with much difficulty contrived to drag myself from that place of desolation. At length, exhausted, I sunk under a tree, and there, for want of timely assistance, I might have breathed my last, when, to my joy, I observed two or three of our party, who had escaped in the general confusion, advancing towards me, and the hopes which had almost abandoned me again began to revive. My preservers removed me immediately to a place of security, and administered all the remedies that their limited means could afford. When I had sufficiently recovered my strength, in various disguises we arrived at Granada, and made ourselves known to Mohabed Alhamdem: at his dwelling the plan of a second rising has been concerted, and I am come here to ask your support to the undertaking."

"Noble and beloved companion," replied Cañeri, "next to the pleasure of seeing thee alive, comes, certainly, that of hearing thy proposal. I rejoice that, notwithstanding our little trivial disagreements, thou hast thought of me in the hour of an important crisis: command me freely, and command all mine."

As he delivered these words with his habitual affectation of dignity, he looked around upon his reduced followers, who all inclined their heads in token of blind acquiescence.

"And is this all thou canst command, Cañeri?" asked El Feri.

"No, not all; for at a moment's notice, I can assemble a considerable number, now prudently scattered in little parties, the better to avoid observation. They lie concealed in some neighbouring caves, and will at the first summons readily obey my orders. But what are thy designs, my noble friend? Dost thou contemplate the surprise of some fort? or hast thou in meditation a second expedition to the _Sierra Nevada_?

"Neither;" replied El Feri: "my plans of operation are now widely different; I mean to strike the blow far from the city of Granada: more I will impart to thee at a future period. Art thou well determined to second my exertions?"

"Yes," answered Cañeri, bowing his head. "In the name of the holy Prophet, I swear to follow thy instructions."

"Well then," returned El Feri, satisfied, "this very night I set out for the _Sierra Bermeja_, attended only by Mohabed and a servant: that opulent Moor has enthusiastically joined our cause, and several of his friends, slow to contribute with their persons towards the result, have at least liberally assisted us with their gold. Thou, Cañeri, must not tarry here, but with the utmost expedition march to Alhaurin, a town neglected by the Christians, which thou wilt easily surprise; this is to serve as a rallying place for all those who may flock to our standard. I am assured that the mountain inhabitants of the _Sierra Bermeja_ are prepared to join me,--thus, while the proud Spaniard triumphs in security, and rejoices at the supposed death of El Feri, he will suddenly dissolve the charm, and summon his enemies again to encounter the effects of his wrath and vengeance. And now, Cañeri, remember that Alagraf and Malique are the only persons through whom we are to communicate: so to your post, and there await my further instructions. Farewell! and when we meet again, may victory have rewarded our exertions!"

He said; and the two chiefs taking friendly leave of each other, El Feri, without delay, returned to Granada. Cañeri, scarcely able to contain his joy, rose and paced around the cave as if he were already dictating from his palace at Alhacen.

"Now, my brave followers!" he cried, suddenly halting, "be prepared to march at a moment's notice."

Such an injunction was perfectly useless; for it so happened that his gallant followers had no other preparation to make than to rise and march, having no baggage to encumber their operations beyond the very slender equipments which they carried on their persons.

"But!" exclaimed Cañeri, in the midst of his exultation, "Alagraf, if we depart immediately, how is thy promise concerning the fair Christian to be fulfilled?"

"Fear not, Cañeri," answered the renegade; "I have promised you that Theodora will be yours to-night or never."

"Or never!" re-echoed Cañeri, dismally shaping his face into most unwarrantable elongation: "Or never! We have yet some time to remain, and I would gladly wait for such a prize."

"It wants," observed the renegade, "but an hour to midnight,--the time approaches,--my heart feels confident Theodora, will soon be in your power, and I shall then have the means of accomplishing my revenge."