The excitement caused by this tragic affair gradually subsided. Years rolled on—Abenhabuz was never again seen—and the fate of his daughter was nearly forgotten;—when one morning the Governor of Ronda was no where to be found. Diligent search was of course made, and at length his corpse was discovered in the rocky bed of the Guadiaro, immediately beneath the miraculous bridge, which was now seen for the first time!—On examining the body, it was found to be much bruised and mutilated, as if—which indeed was evident—Don Guiterre had fallen in an attempt to cross the hazardous bridge, and although one deep wound seemed to have been inflicted by some sharp instrument, yet it might have been given by the pointed rocks with which the bed of the rivulet is strewed, and there was no other reason to suppose that he had fallen by the hands of bandits; since nothing had been taken from his person. His sword was found lying near him, but it might have dropt from its scabbard.
The cause of the Governor’s visit to this secluded spot nobody could divine; but the general astonishment on this head was still further increased, when, a few days after, the body of a near relative of Don Guiterre—one of the principal officers of the Holy Inquisition—was discovered at the very same spot, and bearing marks of having met with a similar death.
A clue to the solution of these mysterious and appalling events was at length, however, obtained; though it still left many of the particulars open to conjecture. An old and faithful servant of the late Governor was, not many days after, found in the bed of the stream, having also, as it appeared, fallen from the enchanted bridge. Life, however, was not extinct. He was conveyed to a neighbouring monastery, where every attention was paid to his wounds, though without the slightest hope of his ultimate recovery. The excessive pain, caused by a severe wound in the head, brought on delirium; so that little information could be gathered from him; but in his paroxysms he raved of a brilliant light that shone constantly before his eyes, which, with piercing cries for mercy, intermixed with frightful imprecations on Don Guiterre, he fervently invoked.—But in the last moments of his wretched existence, he became somewhat more tranquil; and the monk who attended him, (a brother of one of my distant ancestors) collected at intervals the following particulars of his melancholy story.
His master it appeared had willingly entered into the plot—already alluded to—projected by the old Moor. The inquisitorial visit, planned by these two fiends in human form, was brought about by information secretly furnished to the Holy Tribunal, by the wretched maniac himself. Their professed object in procuring Hinzára’s incarceration was, to frighten her into a marriage with Don Guiterre, whose influence over the Inquisitor, his relative, was to be employed in procuring her liberation, on condition that she gave proof of her innocence by consenting to marry him.—Each of these miscreants imagined, however, that he was making a dupe of his confederate; for each breathed only vengeance on the innocent Hinzára. Don Guiterre could not forgive her contemptuous rejection of his suit; and, his ungovernable passion continuing unabated, he hoped, by acceding to the terms on which only it was proposed, she should obtain her liberation,—to have her in his power to satisfy his revenge, after he had gratified his yet more hateful passion: or, should she, contrary to his expectations, continue obdurate, to feast his eyes on the tortures of his hapless victim. Abenhabuz, on the other hand, knew his daughter too well to imagine she would consent to purchase life on the terms proposed. His sole object was to procure her death,—which, as he conceived, was merited as much by her disobedience to his commands, as by the unpardonable sin of deserting the faith of her forefathers;—and, as he himself could not inflict the punishment without exciting suspicion, he hit upon the plan of making Don Guiterre a tool to effect his purpose. But, in the words of the Roman Fabulist, “Vindictæ cupidus sibi malum accersit.” Each of these monsters reaped the just fruit of his crime.
Whether the terms of liberation before alluded to were ever proposed to the daughter of Abenhabuz, I cannot inform you, Don Carlos:—most probably not, however.—Don Guiterre doubtless overrated his influence with the Holy Tribunal,—the vast powers and inaccessible character of which were at that early period of its establishment not known even to Spaniards themselves. At all events, the governor, finding that the doom of his victim was irrevocably fixed, and—ignorant of the secret wishes of the Moor—fearing that the full weight of Abenhabuz’s resentment would fall upon him on the discovery of the failure of their scheme,—resolved, ere the Auto da fé was announced to take place, to prevent the possibility of the Moor’s attempting to save his daughter, by confessing the plot, and making known the share he—Guiterre—had taken in it.
The wretch, who, in his dying moments, confessed these atrocities, was an accomplice in the crime by which this object was attained.—The foul deed committed, the corpse of Abenhabuz was destroyed by quick lime, and his papers were minutely examined, lest any proof should be furnished by them of the plot against Hinzára. Letters were then found from the sons of the murdered Moor, (who it appeared had joined the discontented inhabitants of the Alpujarras, at that time about to take up arms against the government,) which brought to light a project on the eve of being carried into execution, to seize upon the city of Ronda. These, after being made up in a sealed parcel, were dropt, by the governor’s faithful agent, on the road to Marbella, and, being picked up by a chance traveller, were brought to Don Guiterre.
The importance of their contents caused them of course to be forwarded to the seat of government, accompanied by a statement, that diligent but unavailing search having been made for Abenhabuz, it was supposed he had escaped to the mountains, and must, in the hurry of his flight, have lost these papers, containing indubitable proofs of his treason.
The policy of keeping these events secret was suggested by the artful Guiterre, on the plea, that it might lead to the detection of other persons engaged in the conspiracy; which recommendation, having been approved of, it soon came to be believed that the missing Abenhabuz was, as well as his daughter, an inmate of the dungeon of the Inquisition.
By what means Don Guiterre met with his death still remained a matter of mystery.—By his servant’s statement it appeared that he had fallen in an attempt to pass over the rustic bridge, leading to the cavern under the quinta of the deceased Moor; whither by an anonymous communication he had been invited to repair unattended, under the promise of having the spot shown to him where the Alchymist’s riches were buried.—The wretched Lopez, who had followed his master at a distance, saw a bright light shining to point out the passage made across the deep chasm, and heard his cries on falling; but, overcome by fear, he immediately took to flight, and for obvious reasons had not given any information on the subject.
Whatever further particulars—if any—were gathered from him ere his death, never became public. Sufficient, however, was known to cause the spot to be held in great awe; so much so, indeed, that, after the miraculous abstraction of various goats, sheep, &c., from the flocks grazing in the neighbourhood, not a soul would venture near it; the common opinion being, that some vindictive fairy had taken up his abode in the cavern, and amused himself by playing off his malicious pranks upon mankind.