Informing the governor of Hinzára’s determined opposition to their wishes, he imparted to him the diabolical scheme he contemplated to force her into compliance; and in the vile Spaniard he unfortunately found a too willing abettor of his infamous project.
The cavern under the Moor’s habitation contained numerous chambers opening into each other, the innermost of which was known only to Abenhabuz himself; the entrance being concealed by tapestry, and closed by means of secret springs. On the plea of having some repairs executed to the quinta, Hinzára and her father retired to the subterranean apartments; Abenhabuz occupying that which communicated with the staircase, Hinzára the one from which the secret chamber opened; the intermediate chamber serving as their common refectory.
One afternoon, as the sun was closing his diurnal course, an officer of the Holy Inquisition, accompanied by numerous Aquazils and masked attendants, appeared suddenly before the abode of the renegade Moor. The terrified domestics fell on their knees, repeating their Pater nosters, too much alarmed to give notice of the approach of the visiters; and the officer, followed by his satellites, proceeded straight to the entrance of the Souterrain, and demanded instant admission.
“Who is he,” inquired Abenhabuz from within, “that thus unannounced requires entry? If his business be of worldly affairs, let him choose some more fitting time, nor disturb a good Christian at his evening devotions; but, if aught else, enter—the latch is now raised.” The party immediately rushed forward, but the superior stopped short at the scene before him—Abenhabuz, clothed in sackcloth, stretched prostrate on the bare floor before an image of the blessed Virgin! Beside him lay a scourge, with which he had evidently been inflicting self-punishment!
“What want ye of me?” demanded the Moor, without rising from the rocky floor.—“With you we have now no further business, good Abenhabuz,” replied the officer. “We must however see your daughter—for such is our duty—though doubtless she follows the example of her pious father.”—“Hinzára,” said the Moor, “is within that second chamber,” pointing to the door—then raising his voice, he called out in Spanish—“Hinzára, my child, open, that these worthy Señores may bear witness to the piety of Abenhabuz’ daughter;” but Hinzára answered not.
“What is this?” exclaimed the Moor—“the heat of the summer sun has surely overcome her.—Hinzára, my beloved, open quickly”—but still Hinzára replied not.
“Force open the door, then,” said the officer, “but quietly—disturb not her sleep, if such be the cause of her silence. Excuse this apparent rudeness, worthy Alfaqui; our orders are imperative.”
Admittance was quickly gained, and disclosed to the spectators the lovely form of Hinzára, extended on a divan, her eyes closed in profound sleep. Her right arm, passed across her gently heaving bosom, hung over the side of the couch, and on the floor beneath it lay a book, which to all appearance had fallen from it.—That book was the Koran!
The exclamations of the astonished spectators, but, above all, the wailings of old Abenhabuz, soon brought the sleeper to her senses. But not to detain you, Don Carlos, with superfluous details: suffice it to say, that further search was made; the secret doorway was discovered, and exposed to view a small apartment furnished with the Mehrab,[107] denoting it to be a Mohammedan place of worship.
No one of the assembled group was, or rather appeared to be, so much shocked as Abenhabuz.—“Father! Father!” exclaimed the frantic Hinzára in tones of the most piercing anguish:—but, overcome by the intensity of her emotion, she could utter no more, and fell senseless to the ground.