2. II.
But the eye of Melchior rested not upon the wealth
and splendour which were clustered around him. The
glitter of the mine, the glow of the palace, the pomp of
aught save Heaven, were as nothing in his contemplation.
He turned away from the glare and the tinsel in
his glance, and his eyes rested thoughtfully upon a couch
disposed after the fashion of the Moor, and richly habited
with a profuse drapery of fine silks, fretted and inwrought
with gold. On this couch a youth lay fast
sleeping. His dark skin, his thick, black, glossy hair, the
lightness and symmetry of his limbs,—all told of his
oriental origin; while the narrow face, the finely oval
cheek, impaired, however, by the sudden and enfeebling
sharpness of his chin, as certainly determined him to be
of Hebrew parentage. He was richly habited, and not
seemingly for slumber. He appeared rather to have
thrown himself casually upon the couch, and to have
fallen unconsciously into that luxurious repose which, in
the summer, steals so insidiously and with such lulling
sweetness upon the unwary or exhausted senses. His
tunic was of a thick purple silk, and a long sash encircled
his waist. Gems of value glittered upon his
fingers, and a heavy chain of Moorish workmanship,
even more valuable for the exquisite taste and delicacy
of its construction than for the intrinsic weight of the
metal, hung loosely around his neck.
Melchior, while his guide departed as if in quest of
another, drew nigh and seated himself upon the couch
at the foot of the sleeper. The slumbers of the youth
were uneven and disturbed, though his sleep was unbroken.
His limbs were tossed about at moments,
from side to side, as if his blood was in fever; and
Melchior pressed the pulse of his extended arm with his
finger, as if to satisfy himself that such was not the case.
Long and earnestly did the aged man contemplate the
person of the youth before him with a look full of melancholy
dissatisfaction. While he gazed, muttered words
broke forth from the lips of the sleeper,—words of anger
and defiance; and now an oath, a bitter, blasphemous
oath, startled the venerable man with the atrocious impiety
that seemed to be dwelling, as if at home, in a
bosom so very young—in a form, to the eye, so promising.
He turned away as if sickening at the survey, and
the painful thoughts which it had forced upon him.
