After some time had elapsed, a light appeared in the window where he had seen the beautiful arm.  The curtain was down, but it was so thin that he could perceive the shadow of some one passing and repassing between it and the light.  He fancied that he could distinguish that the form was delicate; and, from the alacrity of its movements, it was evidently youthful.  He had not a doubt but this was the bed-chamber of his beautiful unknown.

Presently he heard the sound of a guitar, and a female voice singing.  He drew near cautiously, and listened.  It was a plaintive Moorish ballad, and he recognized in it the lamentations of one of the Abencerrages on leaving the walls of lovely Granada.  It was full of passion and tenderness.  It spoke of the delights of early life; the hours of love it had enjoyed on the banks of the Darro, and among the blissful abodes of the Alhambra.  It bewailed the fallen honours of the Abencerrages, and imprecated vengeance on their oppressors.  Antonio was affected by the music.  It singularly coincided with the place.  It was like the voice of past times echoed in the present, and breathing among the monuments of its departed glory.

The voice ceased; after a time the light disappeared, and all was still.  “She sleeps!” said Antonio, fondly.  He lingered about the building, with the devotion with which a lover lingers about the bower of sleeping beauty.  The rising moon threw its silver beams on the gray walls, and glittered on the casement.  The late gloomy landscape gradually became flooded with its radiance.  Finding, therefore, that he could no longer move about in obscurity, and fearful that his loiterings might be observed, he reluctantly retired.

The curiosity which had at first drawn the young man to the tower, was now seconded by feelings of a more romantic kind.  His studies were almost entirely abandoned.  He maintained a kind of blockade of the old mansion; he would take a book with him, and pass a great part of the day under the trees in its vicinity; keeping a vigilant eye upon it, and endeavouring to ascertain what were the walks of his mysterious charmer.  He found, however, that she never went out except to mass, when she was accompanied by her father.  He waited at the door of the church, and offered her the holy water, in the hope of touching her hand; a little office of gallantry common in Catholic countries.  She, however, modestly declined without raising her eyes to see who made the offer, and always took it herself from the font.  She was attentive in her devotion; her eyes were never taken from the altar or the priest; and, on returning home, her countenance was almost entirely concealed by her mantilla.

Antonio had now carried on the pursuit for several days, and was hourly getting more and more interested in the chase, but never a step nearer to the game.  His lurkings about the house had probably been noticed, for he no longer saw the fair face at the window, nor the white arm put forth to water the flowers.  His only consolation was to repair nightly to his post of observation, and listen to her warbling; and if by chance he could catch a sight of her shadow, passing and repassing before the window, he thought himself most fortunate.