sciences, but have felt too ignorant and diffident to give myself up
to them. You have acquired experience; you have amassed the knowledge
of a lifetime; it were a pity it should be thrown away. You say you
are too old to renew the toils of the laboratory; suffer me to
undertake them. Add your knowledge to my youth and activity, and what
shall we not accomplish? As a probationary fee, and a fund on which to
proceed, I will bring into the common stock a sum of gold, the residue
of a legacy, which has enabled me to complete my education. A poor
scholar cannot boast much; but I trust we shall soon put ourselves
beyond the reach of want; and if we should fail, why, I must depend,
like other scholars, upon my brains to carry me through the world."
The philosopher's spirits, however, were more depressed than the
student had imagined. This last shock, following in the rear of so
many disappointments, had almost destroyed the reaction of his mind.
The fire of an enthusiast, however, is never so low but that it may be
blown again into a flame. By degrees, the old man was cheered and
reanimated by the buoyancy and ardour of his sanguine companion. He at
length agreed to accept of the services of the student, and once more
to renew his experiments. He objected, however, to using the student's
gold, notwithstanding that his own was nearly exhausted; but this
objection was soon overcome; the student insisted on making it a
common stock and common cause;--and then how absurd was any delicacy
about such a trifle, with men who looked forward to discovering the
philosopher's stone!
While, therefore, the alchymist was slowly recovering, the student
busied himself in getting the laboratory once more in order. It was
strewed with the wrecks of retorts and alembics, with old crucibles,
boxes and phials of powders and tinctures, and half-burnt books and
manuscripts.
As soon as the old man was sufficiently recovered, the studies and
experiments were renewed. The student became a privileged and frequent
visitor, and was indefatigable in his toils in the laboratory. The
philosopher daily derived new zeal and spirits from the animation of
his disciple. He was now enabled to prosecute the enterprise with
continued exertion, having so active a coadjutor to divide the toil.
While he was poring over the writings of Sandivogius, and Philalethes,
and Dominus de Nuysment, and endeavouring to comprehend the symbolical
language in which they have locked up their mysteries, Antonio would
occupy himself among the retorts and crucibles, and keep the furnace
in a perpetual glow.
With all his zeal, however, for the discovery of the golden art, the
feelings of the student had not cooled as to the object that first
drew him to this ruinous mansion. During the old man's illness, he had
frequent opportunities of being near the daughter; and every day made
him more sensible to her charms. There was a pure simplicity, and an
almost passive gentleness, in her manners; yet with all this was
mingled something, whether mere maiden shyness, or a consciousness of
high descent, or a dash of Castilian pride, or perhaps all united,
that prevented undue familiarity, and made her difficult of approach.
The danger of her father, and the measures to be taken for his relief,
had at first overcome this coyness and reserve, but as he recovered
and her alarm subsided, she seemed to shrink from the familiarity she
had indulged with the youthful stranger, and to become every day more
shy and silent.
Antonio had read many books, but this was the first volume of
womankind that he had ever studied. He had been captivated with the
very title-page; but the further he read, the more he was delighted.
She seemed formed to love; her soft black eye rolled languidly under
its long silken lashes, and wherever it turned, it would linger and
repose; there was tenderness in every beam. To him alone she was
reserved and distant. Now that the common cares of the sick-room were
at an end, he saw little more of her than before his admission to the
house. Sometimes he met her on his way to and from the laboratory, and
at such times there was ever a smile and a blush; but, after a simple
salutation, she glided on and disappeared.
"'Tis plain," thought Antonio, "my presence is indifferent, if not
irksome to her. She has noticed my admiration, and is determined to
discourage it; nothing but a feeling of gratitude prevents her
treating me with marked distaste--and then has she not another lover,
rich, gallant, splendid, musical? how can I suppose she would turn her
eyes from so brilliant a cavalier, to a poor obscure student, raking
among the cinders of her father's laboratory?"
Indeed, the idea of the amorous serenader continually haunted his
mind. He felt convinced that he was a favoured lover; yet, if so, why
did he not frequent the tower?--why did he not make his approaches by
noon-day? There was mystery in this eavesdropping and musical
courtship. Surely Inez could not be encouraging a secret intrigue! Oh!
no! she was too artless, too pure, too ingenuous! But then the Spanish
females were so prone to love and intrigue; and music and moonlight
were so seductive, and Inez had such a tender soul languishing in
every look.--"Oh!" would the poor scholar exclaim, clasping his hands,
"oh, that I could but once behold those loving eyes beaming on me with
affection!"
It is incredible to those who have not experienced it, on what scanty
aliment human life and human love may be supported. A dry crust,
thrown now and then to a starving man, will give him a new lease of
existence; and a faint smile, or a kind look, bestowed at casual
intervals, will keep a lover loving on, when a man in his sober senses
would despair.
When Antonio found himself alone in the laboratory, his mind would be
haunted by one of these looks, or smiles, which he had received in
passing. He would set it in every possible light, and argue on it with
all the self-pleasing, self-teasing logic of a lover.
The country around him was enough to awaken that voluptuousness of
feeling so favourable to the growth of passion. The window of the
tower rose above the trees of the romantic valley of the Darro, and
looked down upon some of the loveliest scenery of the Vega, where
groves of citron and orange were refreshed by cool springs and brooks
of the purest water.
The Xenel and the Darro wound their shining streams along the plain,
and gleamed from among its bowers. The surrounding hills were covered
with vineyards, and the mountains, crowned with snow, seemed to melt
into the blue sky. The delicate airs that played about the tower were
perfumed by the fragrance of myrtle and orange-blossoms, and the ear
was charmed with the fond warbling of the nightingale, which, in these
happy regions, sings the whole day long. Sometimes, too, there was the
idle song of the muleteer, sauntering along the solitary road; or the
notes of the guitar, from some group of peasants dancing in the shade.
All these were enough to fill the head of the young lover with poetic
fancies; and Antonio would picture to himself how he could loiter
among those happy groves, and wander by those gentle rivers, and love
away his life with Inez.
He felt at times impatient at his own weakness, and would endeavour to
brush away these cobwebs of the mind. He would turn his thoughts, with
sudden effort, to his occult studies, or occupy himself in some
perplexing process; but often, when he had partially succeeded in
fixing his attention, the sound of Inez's lute, or the soft notes of
her voice, would come stealing upon the stillness of the chamber, and,
as it were, floating round the tower. There was no great art in her
performance; but Antonio thought he had never heard music comparable
to this. It was perfect witchcraft to hear her warble forth some of
her national melodies; those little Spanish romances and Moorish
ballads, that transport the hearer, in idea, to the banks of the
Guadalquivir, or the walls of the Alhambra, and make him dream of
beauties, and balconies, and moonlight serenades.
Never was poor student more sadly beset than Antonio. Love is a
troublesome companion in a study, at the best of tunes; but in the
laboratory of an alchymist, his intrusion is terribly disastrous.
Instead of attending to the retorts and crucibles, and watching the
process of some experiment intrusted to his charge, the student would
get entranced in one of these love-dreams, from which he would often
be aroused by some fatal catastrophe. The philosopher, on returning
from his researches in the libraries, would find every thing gone
wrong, and Antonio in despair over the ruins of the whole day's work.
The old man, however, took all quietly, for his had been a life of
experiment and failure.
"We must have patience, my son," would he say, "as all the great
masters that have gone before us have had. Errors, and accidents, and
delays are what we have to contend with. Did not Pontanus err two
hundred times, before he could obtain even the matter on which to
found his experiments? The great Flamel, too, did he not labour
four-and-twenty years, before he ascertained the first agent? What
difficulties and hardships did not Cartilaceus encounter, at the very
threshold of his discoveries? And Bernard de Treves, even after he had
attained a knowledge of all the requisites, was he not delayed full
three years? What you consider accidents, my son, are the machinations
of our invisible enemies. The treasures and golden secrets of nature
are surrounded by spirits hostile to man. The air about us teems with
them. They lurk in the fire of the furnace, in the bottom of the
crucible, and the alembic, and are ever on the alert to take advantage
of those moments when our minds are wandering from intense meditation
on the great truth that we are seeking. We must only strive the more
to purify ourselves from, those gross and earthly feelings which
becloud the soul, and prevent her from piercing into nature's arcana."
"Alas!" thought Antonio, "if to be purified from all earthly feeling
requires that I should cease to love Inez, I fear I shall never
discover the philosopher's stone!"
In this way, matters went on for some time, at the alchymist's. Day
after day was sending the student's gold in vapour up the chimney;
every blast of the furnace made him a ducat the poorer, without
apparently helping him a jot nearer to the golden secret. Still the
young man stood by, and saw piece after piece disappearing without a
murmur: he had daily an opportunity of seeing Inez, and felt as if her
favour would be better than silver or gold, and that every smile was
worth a ducat.
Sometimes, in the cool of the evening, when the toils of the
laboratory happened to be suspended, he would walk with the alchymist
in what had once been a garden belonging to the mansion. There were
still the remains of terraces and balustrades, and here and there a
marble urn, or mutilated statue overturned, and buried among weeds and
flowers run wild. It was the favourite resort of the alchymist in his
hours of relaxation, where he would give full scope to his visionary
flights. His mind was tinctured with the Rosicrucian doctrines. He
believed in elementary beings; some favourable, others adverse to his
pursuits; and, in the exaltation of his fancy, had often imagined that
he held communion with them in his solitary walks, about the
whispering groves and echoing walls of this old garden.
When accompanied by Antonio, he would prolong these evening
recreations. Indeed, he sometimes did it out of consideration for his
disciple, for he feared lest his too close application, and his
incessant seclusion in the tower, should be injurious to his health.
He was delighted and surprised by this extraordinary zeal and
perseverance in so young a tyro, and looked upon him as destined to be
one of the great luminaries of the art. Lest the student should repine
at the time lost in these relaxations, the good alchymist would fill
them up with wholesome knowledge, in matters connected with their
pursuits; and would walk up and down the alleys with his disciple,
imparting oral instruction, like an ancient philosopher. In all his
visionary schemes, these breathed a spirit of lofty, though chimerical
philanthropy, that won the admiration of the scholar. Nothing sordid
nor sensual, nothing petty nor selfish, seemed to enter into his
views, in respect to the grand discoveries he was anticipating. On the
contrary, his imagination kindled with conceptions of widely
dispensated happiness. He looked forward to the time when he should be
able to go about the earth, relieving the indigent, comforting the
distressed; and, by his unlimited means, devising and executing plans
for the complete extirpation of poverty, and all its attendant
sufferings and crimes. Never were grander schemes for general good,
for the distribution of boundless wealth and universal competence,
devised than by this poor, indigent alchymist in his ruined tower.
Antonio would attend these peripatetic lectures with all the ardour of
a devotee; but there was another circumstance which may have given a
secret charm to them. The garden was the resort also of Inez, where
she took her walks of recreation; the only exercise that her secluded
life permitted. As Antonio was duteously pacing by the side of his
instructor, he would often catch a glimpse of the daughter, walking
pensively about the alleys in the soft twilight. Sometimes they would
meet her unexpectedly, and the heart of the student would throb with
agitation. A blush, too, would crimson the cheek of Inez, but still
she passed on and never joined them.
He had remained one evening until rather a late hour with the
alchymist in this favourite resort. It was a delightful night after a
sultry day, and the balmy air of the garden was peculiarly reviving.
The old man was seated on a fragment of a pedestal, looking like a
part of the ruin on which he sat. He was edifying his pupil by long
lessons of wisdom from the stars, as they shone out with brilliant
lustre in the dark-blue vault of a southern sky; for he was deeply
versed in Behmen, and other of the Rosicrucians, and talked much of
the signature of earthly things and passing events, which may be
discerned in the heavens; of the power of the stars over corporeal
beings, and their influence on the fortunes of the sons of men.
By degrees the moon rose and shed her gleaming light among the groves.
Antonio apparently listened with fixed attention to the sage, but his
ear was drinking in the melody of Inez's voice, who was singing to her
lute in one of the moonlight glades of the garden. The old man, having
exhausted his theme, sat gazing in silent reverie at the heavens.
Antonio could not resist an inclination to steal a look at this coy
beauty, who was thus playing the part of the nightingale, so
sequestered and musical. Leaving the alchymist in his celestial
reverie, he stole gently along one of the alleys. The music had
ceased, and he thought he heard the sound of voices. He came to an
angle of a copse that had screened a kind of green recess, ornamented
by a marble fountain. The moon shone full upon the place, and by its
light he beheld his unknown, serenading rival at the feet of Inez. He
was detaining her by the hand, which he covered with kisses; but at
sight of Antonio he started up and half drew his sword, while Inez,
disengaged, fled back to the house.
All the jealous doubts and fears of Antonio were now confirmed. He did
not remain to encounter the resentment of his happy rival at being
thus interrupted, but turned from the place in sudden wretchedness of
heart. That Inez should love another, would have been misery enough;
but that she should be capable of a dishonourable amour, shocked him
to the soul. The idea of deception in so young and apparently artless
a being, brought with it that sudden distrust in human nature, so
sickening to a youthful and ingenuous mind; but when he thought of the
kind, simple parent she was deceiving, whose affections all centred in
her, he felt for a moment a sentiment of indignation, and almost of
aversion.
He found the alchymist still seated in his visionary contemplation of
the moon. "Come hither, my son," said he, with his usual enthusiasm,
"come, read with me in this vast volume of wisdom, thus nightly
unfolded for our perusal. Wisely did the Chaldean sages affirm, that
the heaven is as a mystic page, uttering speech to those who can
rightly understand; warning them of good and evil, and instructing
them in the secret decrees of fate."
The student's heart ached for his venerable master; and, for a moment,
he felt the futility of his occult wisdom. "Alas! poor old man!"
thought he, "of what avails all thy study? Little dost thou dream,
while busied in airy speculations among the stars, what a treason
against thy happiness is going on under thine eyes; as it were, in thy
very bosom!--Oh Inez! Inez! where shall we look for truth and
innocence, where shall we repose confidence in woman, if even you can
deceive?"
It was a trite apostrophe, such as every lover makes when he finds his
mistress not quite such a goddess as he had painted her. With the
student, however, it sprung from honest anguish of heart. He returned
to his lodgings, in pitiable confusion of mind. He now deplored the
infatuation that had led him on until his feelings were so thoroughly
engaged. He resolved to abandon his pursuits at the tower, and trust
to absence to dispel the fascination by which he had been spellbound.
He no longer thirsted after the discovery of the grand elixir: the
dream of alchymy was over; for, without Inez, what was the value of
the philosopher's stone?
He rose, after a sleepless night, with the determination of taking his
leave of the alchymist, and tearing himself from Granada. For several
days did he rise with the same resolution, and every night saw him
come back to his pillow, to repine at his want of resolution, and to
make fresh determinations for the morrow. In the meanwhile, he saw
less of Inez than ever. She no longer walked in the garden, but
remained almost entirely in her apartment. When she met him, she
blushed more than usual; and once hesitated, as if she would have
spoken; but, after a temporary embarrassment, and still deeper
blushes, she made some casual observation, and retired. Antonio read,
in this confusion, a consciousness of fault, and of that fault's being
discovered. "What could she have wished to communicate? Perhaps to
account for the scene in the garden;--but how can she account for it,
or why should she account for it to me? What am I to her?--or rather,
what is she to me?" exclaimed he, impatiently, with a new resolution
to break through these entanglements of the heart, and fly from this
enchanted spot for ever.
He was returning that very night to his lodgings, full of this
excellent determination, when, in a shadowy part of the road, he
passed a person whom he recognized, by his height and form, for his
rival: he was going in the direction of the tower. If any lingering
doubts remained, here was an opportunity of settling them completely.
He determined to follow this unknown cavalier, and, under favour of
the darkness, observe his movements. If he obtained access to the
tower, or in any way a favourable reception, Antonio felt as if it
would be a relief to his mind, and would enable him to fix his
wavering resolution.
The unknown, as he came near the tower, was more cautious and stealthy
in his approaches. He was joined under a clump of trees by another
person, and they had much whispering together. A light was burning in
the chamber of Inez; the curtain was down, but the casement was left
open, as the night was warm. After some time, the light was
extinguished. A considerable interval elapsed. The cavalier and his
companion remained under covert of the trees, as if keeping watch. At
length they approached the tower, with silent and cautious steps. The
cavalier received a dark-lantern from his companion, and threw off his
cloak. The other then softly brought something from the clump of
trees, which Antonio perceived to be a light ladder: he placed it
against the wall, and the serenader gently ascended. A sickening
sensation came over Antonio. Here was indeed a confirmation of every
fear. He was about to leave the place, never to return, when he heard
a stifled shriek from Inez's chamber.
In an instant, the fellow that stood at the foot of the ladder lay
prostrate on the ground. Antonio wrested a stiletto from his nerveless
hand, and hurried up the ladder. He sprang in at the window, and found
Inez struggling in the grasp of his fancied rival; the latter,
disturbed from his prey, caught up his lantern, turned its light full
upon Antonio, and, drawing his sword, made a furious assault; luckily
the student saw the light gleam along the blade, and parried the
thrust with the stiletto. A fierce, but unequal combat ensued. Antonio
fought exposed to the full glare of the light, while his antagonist
was in shadow: his stiletto, too, was but a poor defence against a
rapier. He saw that nothing would save him but closing with his
adversary, and getting within his weapon: he rushed furiously upon
him, and gave him a severe blow with the stiletto; but received a
wound in return from the shortened sword. At the same moment, a blow
was inflicted from behind, by the confederate, who had ascended the
ladder; it felled him to the floor, and his antagonists made their
escape.
By this time, the cries of Inez had brought her father and the
domestic into the room. Antonio was found weltering in his blood, and
senseless. He was conveyed to the chamber of the alchymist, who now
repaid in kind the attentions which the student had once bestowed upon
him. Among his varied knowledge he possessed some skill in surgery,
which at this moment was of more value than even his chymical lore. He
stanched and dressed the wounds of his disciple, which on examination
proved less desperate than he had at first apprehended. For a few
days, however, his case was anxious, and attended with danger. The old
man watched over him with the affection of a parent. He felt a double
debt of gratitude towards him, on account of his daughter and himself;
he loved him too as a faithful and zealous disciple; and he dreaded
lest the world, should be deprived of the promising talents of so
aspiring an alchymist.
An excellent constitution soon medicined his wounds; and there was a
balsam in the looks and words of Inez, that had a healing effect on
the still severer wounds which he carried in his heart. She displayed
the strongest interest in his safety; she called him her deliverer,
her preserver. It seemed as if her grateful disposition sought, in the
warmth of its acknowledgments, to repay him for past coldness. But
what most contributed to Antonio's recovery, was her explanation
concerning his supposed rival. It was some time since he had first
beheld her at church, and he had ever since persecuted her with his
attentions. He had beset her in her walks, until she had been obliged
to confine herself to the house, except when accompanied by her
father. He had besieged her with letters, serenades, and every art by
which he could urge a vehement, but clandestine and dishonourable
suit. The scene in the garden was as much of a surprise to her as to
Antonio. Her persecutor had been attracted by her voice, and had found
his way over a ruined part of the wall. He had come upon her unawares;
was detaining her by force, and pleading his insulting passion, when
the appearance of the student interrupted him, and enabled her to make
her escape. She had forborne to mention to her father the persecution
which she suffered; she wished to spare him unavailing anxiety and
distress, and had determined to confine herself more rigorously to the
house; though it appeared that even here she had not been safe from
his daring enterprise.
Antonio inquired whether she knew the name of this impetuous admirer?
She replied that he had made his advances under a fictitious name; but
that she had heard him once called by the name of Don Ambrosio de
Loxa.