At length, Antonio’s health was sufficiently restored to enable him to return to his lodgings in Granada.  He felt uneasy, however, at leaving the tower, while lurking danger might surround its almost defenceless inmates.  He dreaded lest Don Ambrosio, recovered from his wounds, might plot some new attempt, by secret art, or open violence.  From all that he had heard, he knew him to be too implacable to suffer his defeat to pass unavenged, and too rash and fearless, when his arts were unavailing, to stop at any daring deed in the accomplishment of his purposes.  He urged his apprehensions to the alchymist and his daughter, and proposed that they should abandon the dangerous vicinity of Granada.

“I have relations,” said he, “in Valentia, poor indeed, but worthy and affectionate.  Among them you will find friendship and quiet, and we may there pursue our labours unmolested.”  He went on to paint the beauties and delights of Valentia, with all the fondness of a native, and all the eloquence with which a lover paints the fields and groves which he is picturing as the future scenes of his happiness.  His eloquence, backed by the apprehensions of Inez, was successful with the alchymist, who, indeed, had led too unsettled a life to be particular about the place of his residence; and it was determined, that, as soon as Antonio’s health was perfectly restored, they should abandon the tower, and seek the delicious neighbourhood of Valentia.[9]

[Footnote 9:  Here are the strongest silks, the sweetest wines, the excellent’st almonds, the best oyls, and beautifull’st females of all Spain.  The very bruit animals make themselves beds of rosemary, and other fragrant flowers hereabouts; and when one is at sea, if the winde blow from the shore, he may smell this soyl before he comes in sight of it, many leagues off, by the strong odoriferous scent it casts.  As it is the most pleasant, so it is also the temperat’st clime of all Spain, and they commonly call it the second Italy; which made the Moors, whereof many thousands were disterr’d, and banish’d hence to Barbary, to think that Paradise was in that part of the heavens which hung over this citie.—­HOWELL’S Letters.]

To recruit his strength, the student suspended his toils in the laboratory, and spent the few remaining days, before departure, in taking a farewell look at the enchanting environs of Granada.  He felt returning health and vigour, as he inhaled the pure temperate breezes that play about its hills; and the happy state of his mind contributed to his rapid recovery.  Inez was often the companion of his walks.  Her descent, by the mother’s side, from one of the ancient Moorish families, gave her an interest in this once favourite seat of Arabian power.  She gazed with enthusiasm upon its magnificent monuments, and her memory was filled with the traditional tales and ballads of Moorish chivalry.  Indeed, the solitary life she had led, and the visionary turn of her father’s mind, had produced an effect upon her character, and given it a tinge of what, in modern days, would be termed romance.  All this was called into full force by this new passage; for, when a woman first begins to love, life is all romance to her.