He approached, and for a moment stood gazing over the sleeping beauty, his eyes glistening with savage pleasure; then pulling her gently by the arm,—
"Awake, fair maiden, awake!" he said, in as soothing a tone as the roughness of his nature would permit.
With a fitful start Theodora awoke. She opened her eyes. Oh, horror! horror! Surely she was labouring under the impression of a fearful delusion. Yes, it must be the wild chimera of her feverish fancy. She saw herself surrounded by a band of appalling figures, each seeming to vie with his fellow who should display in his appearance the greatest terror.
The pale moon that now slowly arose from behind the clouds, threw around streams of chilling, unearthly light, which served to illumine countenances still more chilling and unearthly. Strange black eyes, wildly rolling under their darksome covering, were all intensely gazing on her; and horrid grins, which were peculiar to those features, served to increase the natural ferocity of their ruffian aspect. Poorly attired they were,—outcast and rebellious spirits, who had the caverns of the forest for their resting place, and the wild mountain for their country. The tranquil recklessness of their wandering life was depicted in all their movements; and the cold expression of their bronzed features betokened a hardihood in the commission of crime, and in the unwearied pursuit of vengeance.
"Fair Christian, be not afraid," said Malique; "we will not harm thee."
Theodora looked at the speaker and closed her eyes, as if unable to endure the sight. Words coming from so terrible a source could convey no confidence; and kindness and assurances of safety, offered by such a being, seemed a refinement of cruelty, to render dishonor and death more poignant. A broad face, of swarthy complexion, was rendered frightful by an enormous mouth, where large white projecting teeth seemed to be placed more to disfigure than to adorn it. A large scar extended across the face, dividing the eyebrows, and adding new terrors to that already repulsive physiognomy.
When Theodora recovered a little from her first emotion, she became a prey to the most harrowing recollections. Alas! her reason seemed to return only to augment the poignancy of her distress.
"My love! my own Lope!" she franticly cried, "where art thou? Come, come and protect thy poor Theodora!"
The hardened Moors raised a laugh at those piteous exclamations, whilst Malique observed—
"Nay, lady, if that same Lope be thy husband, or lover, call him not; for I presume he is not within ear-shot, and can afford thee no assistance; so be composed, and yield submissively to thy fate, since there is no other alternative left thee."