"Very true," rejoined the pacha; "I remember now. Let the kafir taste of our bounty. Give him two pieces of gold; and allow him to depart."

"May the shadow of your sublime highness never be less," said the Spaniard. "I have here a manuscript which I received from an ancient monk of our order when at the point of death. At the time of my capture it was thrown on one side, and I preserved it as curious. It refers to the first discovery of an island. As your highness is pleased to be amused with stories, it may be worth while to have it translated." The Dominican then handed from his breast a discoloured piece of parchment.

"Very good," replied the pacha, rising. "Mustapha let it be put into Arabic by the Greek slave, who shall read it to us some evening when we have no story-tellers."

"Be chesm! Upon my eyes be it," replied Mustapha, bowing low, as the pacha retired to his harem.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FIVE.

The pacha had repeated his perambulations for many nights, without success; and Mustapha, who observed that he was becoming very impatient, thought it advisable to cater for his amusement.

Among those who used to repair to Mustapha when he exercised his former profession, was a French renegade, a man of considerable talent and ready invention, but a most unprincipled scoundrel, who, previous to the elevation of Mustapha, had gained his livelihood by daring piratical attempts in an open boat. He was now in the employ of the vizier, commanding an armed xebeque which the latter had purchased. She passed off as a government cruiser but was in reality a pirate. Selim, for that was the name which the renegade had adopted when he abjured his faith, condemned every vessel that had the misfortune to meet with him, taking out the cargoes, burning the hull, and throwing the crews overboard, with the privilege of swimming on shore if they could. By this plan he avoided the inconveniences attending any appeals from the jurisdiction of the High Court of Admiralty, which he had established upon the seas.

The consequence was, that his cruises were more successful than ever; and Mustapha, who was not content with pillaging the pacha's subjects on dry land, was amassing a large fortune at their expense by his maritime speculations.

Occasionally, bales or packages would be recognised when landed as having the identical marks and numbers of those which had been shipped from the quay but a fortnight before; but the renegade could always give a satisfactory explanation to the vizier; and after a Jew, who could not bear the idea of parting with his property without remonstrance, had been impaled, people shrugged up their shoulders and said nothing.

Now it occurred to Mustapha, that Selim might be able to assist his views. He talked fast and loud, vaunted his own exploits, curled his whiskers as he swore to the most improbable assertions, and had become a general nuisance and terror since he had obtained the vizier's protection.

Mustapha sent for him; and, as a preliminary question, inquired if ever he had read the Arabian Nights.

"Yes; vizier," replied the renegade; "many years before I turned Turk."

"Do you recollect the voyages of Sindbad the Sailor?"

"To be sure I do; he is the only man that could ever hold a candle to me in lying."

"Well, then, his highness the pacha delights in such stories; and it is my wish that you prepare to recount your own voyages, as Sindbad has done before you."

"But what am I to get for it?"

"My good-will and protection; besides which, his highness if pleased, will not fail to order you a handsome present."

"Well," replied Selim, "any man who can produce gold in this world will always be able to change it for base metal. I can coin lies in my mint faster than he can coin sequins in his; and since you wish it, and say that it will be profitable, why—I am very much at his service."

"Then, Selim, observe my directions, for every thing must appear accidental."

In pursuance to the orders received from Mustapha, the renegade remained that evening at the corner of a certain street, through which Mustapha took care that the pacha should pass in his disguise. When he perceived their approach, the renegade exclaimed, "Allah, Allah! when is the happy time to come, promised in my seventh and last voyage?"

"Who are you; and why do you call upon Heaven for happy times?" inquired the pacha.

"I am Huckaback the sailor," replied the renegade, "who, after a life of danger and disaster, am anxiously awaiting the fulfilment of a promise from the Most High."

"I must see this man to-morrow," observed the pacha:—"Mustapha, as you value your life, see that he attends."

The vizier bowed; and the pacha returned to the palace without further adventure.

The next day, as soon as the business of the divan had closed, the renegade was ordered in. Prostrating himself before the pacha, he then rose, and folding his arms over his breast, awaited his commands in silence.

"I have sent for you, Huckaback, to inquire the meaning of the words you made use of last night: and to know what was the promise made to you in your seventh and last voyage; but I will thank you to begin at the first, as I wish to hear the history of all your voyages."

"May it please your highness, as I live but to obey you, all that has occurred in my eventful life shall, if you command it, be submitted to your ear. It will, however, be necessary that I should revert to my early days to enable your highness more fully to comprehend the whole."

"Aferin! well said," replied the pacha; "I don't care how long a story it is, provided that it is a good one:" and Selim having obeyed a sign from his highness, intimating that he might sit down, commenced as follows:—

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HUCKABACK.

I am a native of Marseilles, your highness, where I was brought up to the profession of my father; a profession (continued the wily renegade) which, I have no hesitation to assert, has produced more men of general information, and more men of talent, than any other—I mean that of a barber.

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"Wallah thaib; well said by Allah!" observed Mustapha.

The pacha nodded his approbation; and the renegade proceeded with his story.

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I was gifted by nature with a ready invention, and some trouble and expense were bestowed upon my education. To the profession of a barber my father added that of bleeding and tooth-drawing. At ten years old I could cut hair pretty well. People did say, that those upon whom I had operated, looked as if their heads had been gnawed by the rats; but it was the remark of envy; and, as my father observed, "there must be a beginning to every thing."

At fifteen, I entered upon the rudiments of shaving; and after having nearly ruined my father's credit, from the pounds of flesh which I removed with the hair of my customers, who were again consoled by his observing, that "there must be a beginning to every thing," I became quite expert. I was subsequently initiated into the higher branches of tooth-drawing and bleeding. In the former, at first I gave great dissatisfaction, either from breaking the decayed tooth short off, and leaving the stump in the socket, or from mistaking the one pointed out, and drawing a sound engine of mastication in its stead. In the latter, I made more serious mistakes, having more than once cut so deep as to open the artery, while I missed the vein; in consequence of which I was never afterwards employed, except by a husband to relieve a scolding wife, or by nephews who were anxious about the health of an everlasting uncle. But, as my father wisely observed, "there must be a beginning to every thing;" and, as I could only practise upon living subjects, "individuals must suffer for the good of the community at large." At the age of twenty I was an accomplished barber.

But rapid as was my career, I was not fated to continue in it long. Like the shot propelled from the mouth of the cannon, which, in its extreme velocity, is turned from the direction which has been given it by glancing along the weakest substance, so was my course of life changed from its direction by meeting with a woman.

My father had a good customer; he had shaved him every morning for years, had extracted every tooth in his head, and was now winding up his long account by bleeding him daily, under the direction of an ignorant apothecary. I was often at the house,—not to bleed him, for my father either thought him too valuable, or was too grateful for past favours to trust him in my hands;—but I held the basin, procured water, and arranged the bandages. He had a daughter, a lovely girl, whom I adored in secret; but her rank in life was too far above mine to allow me to express my feelings. I was then a handsome young man, although Time has since exerted his utmost, through jealousy, to make me appear almost as old and ill-favoured as himself. The young lady took a fancy to me, complained of the tooth-ache, and asked for remedies. I offered to extract the tooth; but either having heard of my reputation, or not wishing to remove the excuse for our interviews, or, what is still more probable, having no tooth-ache whatever, she would not consent.

The death of her mother, which had taken place when she was a child, had left her without guidance,—and the helpless situation of her father, without protection. Naturally of a warm temperament, and yielding to the impulse of her feelings, she carried on an intimacy which could only end in her disgrace; and, at the expiration of a year, her situation could no longer be concealed. I was now in a dilemma. She had two brothers in the army, who were returning home, and I dreaded their vengeance.

I loved her very much, but I loved myself more; so, one evening, I packed up all that I could call my own, and all that I could lay my hands on belonging to my honoured parent, and shipped on board a Genoese vessel, which was then standing out of the harbour. She was a large ship, mounting twelve long guns, with a complement of sixty men; being what is termed in European countries a "letter of marque." This implies that she fights her way without convoy, capturing any of the enemy's vessels she may happen to fall in with, who are not strong enough to resist her. We had cleared out for Genoa with a cargo of lead, which lay at the bottom of the hold, and which merely served for ballast.

I soon found out, by the conversation of the crew, that we were not to proceed to Genoa direct; in fact, your highness, she was a pirate, manned by a most desperate set of men. As soon as my qualifications were made known, I had the honour to remove the beards of sixty of the greatest villains that ever were permitted to exist, receiving nothing but blows and curses for my trouble. I certainly improved very much in my profession; for it was as much as my life was worth to draw blood, although they made no scruple of carrying on a conversation during the whole time of the operation. We had taken the cargoes out of several vessels, all of which were added to the "manifest" by our correct captain; when one day, we were chased by an English frigate. I never met the English on shore, but I must say that, afloat, they are the most impertinent people that swim on the seas. They cannot be content with minding their own business, although they have plenty on their hands, but they must interfere in that of others. They board you, and insist upon knowing where you come from, whither you are bound and what you have on board; examining you with as much scrutiny as if they had been the delegated custom-house officers of the whole world.

Now it did not exactly suit our captain to submit to such a rigorous search; he therefore made all sail for an island about seven miles distant, and anchored under the protection of a battery. Austria—the nation to whom the island belonged—was not at war with England; she was preserving what is called an "armed neutrality."

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"Pray what is the meaning of an armed neutrality?" demanded the pacha.

"It varies according to circumstances, your highness, but, generally speaking, it means a charge of bayonets."

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The frigate followed; and being prevented by the shallowness of the water from approaching sufficiently near to us herself, sent her boats to examine us: but as there were six of them full of men, and each mounting a gun at her bow, our captain thought it advisable to refuse them permission to come on board. As a hint that he disapproved of their measures, he poured his whole broadside of round and grape into them, when they were about a quarter of a mile distant: upon which they gave three cheers, and were obstinate enough to pull faster towards us than ever.

We received them with all the honours of war, in the shape of cutlasses, pistols, and boarding pikes but they were very determined. As soon as one was knocked down, another jumped up in his place; and somehow or another they had possession of the ship in less time than I have been telling the story. I was on the poop when an English sailor, with a pigtail as thick as a cable, made a cut at me; I ran back to avoid the blow, and, in so doing, came with such force against another of their men, that we both tumbled overboard together. I lost my cutlass, but he had not parted with his; and as soon as we rose to the surface, he seized me by the collar, and presented the point to my breast. It seemed to be all the same to him whether he fought on the deck or in the water. Fortunately I shifted a little on one side, and he only drove it through my jacket. I recollected that I had my razor in my pocket, which I took out under the water unperceived, and, closing with him before he could repeat his thrust, I cut his throat from ear to ear, and then made for the shore as fast as I could. As I swam remarkably well, I had no great difficulty in reaching it. As soon as I landed, I looked back, and observing that the English boats were towing our vessel out, I made all the haste I could to the fort, which was close at hand. There I was hospitably received; and we sat up till past midnight, drinking, smoking, and abusing the English.

The next morning, a felucca anchored to procure some water; and, as she was proceeding to Toulon, I requested a passage. We sailed with a fine breeze; but a heavy gale came on, which tossed us about for many days, and the master of the vessel had no idea to where she had been driven. He consoled us, however, by asserting that we could never go to the bottom, as there was a lady of great sanctity passenger in the cabin, who had been sent for to assume the office of lady abbess of a convent near Marseilles, and whom the saints would indubitably preserve.

This was some comfort, although fine weather would have been greater. The gale continued; and the next morning we thought that we descried land on the lee beam. The following night we were certain of our conjectures having been correct, for the vessel was thrown on shore, and in a few minutes went to pieces. I had the good fortune to save myself upon a part of the wreck, and lay half-dead upon the beach until the morning. When the day broke, I looked around me: there were the fragments of the vessel strewed upon the beach, or tossed in mockery by the surge; and close to me lay the dead body of the lady, whose sanctity the captain had assured us would be a safeguard to us all. I then turned from the beach to look at the inland country, and perceived, to my astonishment, that I was not three miles from my native city, Marseilles. This was a horrid discovery; for I knew that I should receive no mercy, and could not proceed a mile without being recognised. What to do was now the subject of my thoughts; and at last, as I viewed the body of the dead lady, it occurred to me that I might pass myself off for her.

I stripped it of its outer garment; and having then hauled my own clothes upon the corpse, and covered it over with sea-weed, I dressed myself in the religious habit which she had worn, and sat down awaiting the arrival of the people, which I knew must soon take place. I was then without a symptom of beard; and from the hardship and ill-treatment which I had received on board of the Genoese, was thin and sallow in the face. It was easy in a nun's dress to mistake me for a woman of thirty-five years of age, who had been secluded in a cloister. In the pockets of her clothes I found letters, which gave me the necessary clue to my story, and I resolved to pass myself off as La Soeur Eustasie, rather than he put in prison, or run through the body.

I had scarcely time to finish reading these documents when a party, attracted by the fragments on the beach, came up to me. I narrated the loss of the vessel, the death of the whole crew, my name and condition, my having come over at the request of the bishop to assume the guidance of the convent of St. Therese; and added, that I had called upon the Virgin in my distress, who had come to my aid, and floated me on shore with as much care and comfort as if I had been reposing on cushions of down. The report was spread, and credited; for the circumstance of a helpless woman being the sole survivor of a whole crew was miracle enough in itself.

The bishop's carriage was sent for me, and I was conducted into the town, followed by a concourse of priests, monks and common people, who were anxious to kiss even the ground that had been trod upon by a personage so especially under the protection of Heaven. I was conducted to the bishop's palace, where I held a sort of court, being visited by deputations from the official bodies, the governor, and all the people of consequence. After a sojourn of three days, I removed to the convent of which I was the supposed abbess, and was enthusiastically received by the nuns, who flocked round me with mingled veneration and delight.

On the second day of my establishment as abbess, the two elder sisters, who could with difficulty he got rid of even when I retired to bed the night before, introduced the whole of the nuns in rotation, beginning with the elder, and ending with those who last took the vow of chastity. I felt little interest, I must confess, at the commencement of my levee; but as it came near to a close, many beautiful countenances attracted my attention, and I gave the kiss of peace with more zest than prudence would have justified. The last of the sisterhood came forward, and was introduced as Soeur Marie. Gracious Heaven! it was the poor girl whom I had deserted. I started when I saw her advance: her eyes were bent upon the ground, as if in reverence to my acknowledged sanctity. As she knelt before me to receive the kiss, she raised them up. Love can pierce through all disguises.—At the moment, she thought that she beheld her fugitive lover, and caught her breath in amazement— but recollection pointed out to her the utter impossibility of the fact, and she sighed at the uncommon likeness, as she received the kiss from those lips which had indeed been so often pressed to hers before.

When the ceremony had been gone through I complained of fatigue, and requested to be left alone.

I wished to reflect upon what had passed, and determine how I was to act: to escape the danger which threatened me, I had placed myself in a situation of still greater difficulty. Where could it end? After a long reverie, I decided that I would make Marie my confidante, and trust to circumstances to guide my future conduct. I rang the bell, and, requesting the presence of the elder sister of the convent, commenced an inquiry into the different characters of the nuns who had been presented.

Flattered by the confidence demanded, there was no end to the loquacity and the ill-natured remarks of the old beldame: she held her list in her hand, and ran over the families and private history of each. It was two hours before she had finished, which she did with Marie, of whose history she gave me a most minute detail; and if she was as correct in her reports of all the others, I certainly had no reason to compliment myself upon being abbess, so far as the previous characters of the nuns under my surveillance were concerned. "Good sister," replied I, "I thank you for your information, which I shall not fail to profit by in my plans for the improvement of the morality of those under my charge. I have always made it a rule, that one of the sisterhood should remain in my room every night, to watch and do penance. I have found that when coupled with my seasonable exhortations, it has produced an excellent effect. Of course I allude not to sage and devout women like you; I refer to those who in their folly and their flow of youthful passions, have not yet humbled themselves sufficiently by abstinence and mortification. Who would you propose to watch here this night?"

The old beldame, who I had perceived by the violence of her manner had a dislike to Marie, immediately mentioned her as one to whom severe penance would be of especial benefit. I conversed with her for another half-hour; then, wishing her good night, prepared for bed, and requested that Marie might be summoned to attend.

Marie entered with her book of Prieres in her hand, and, bowing humbly to me as she passed, sat down near to the lamp which was lighted before an image of the Virgin, at the farther end of the room, and commenced her task of watching and of prayer.

"Marie," said I, as I stood by the bed: she uttered a faint scream as she heard my voice for the first time, and throwing herself down upon her knees before the image of the Virgin, covered her face with her hands, and appeared to be in silent but earnest supplication.

"Marie," again said I, "come here." She rose, and came trembling to the foot of the bed. "To you, and to you alone, do I intrust a secret which, if discovered, would subject me to a painful and ignominious death. You were not deceived, when you started at the face beneath the nun's attire! and you must now be certain, from the voice which you have heard, that I am indeed Francois. How I became the lady abbess of this convent you have yet to learn." I then narrated what I have already done to your highness. "By what means," continued I, "I am to deliver myself from this dangerous situation, I know not; I have, however, one consolation, in finding myself once more in company with the object of my love. Come hither, Marie; it is indeed your own Francois."

Marie remained at the foot of the bed, but advanced not; and I perceived that the tears fell fast, as she cast her eyes to heaven.

"Speak to me, Marie, if ever you loved me."

"That I loved you, Francois, you know full well: not even your unkind desertion could affect that love, which was unchangeable. I dared all for your sake; my brothers, my father, could not extort the secret from me, and their suspicions although directed towards you, could never be confirmed. I bore the offspring of my guilt in solitary anguish, afterwards loaded with reproaches when I needed comfort and consolation, and stunned with imprecations when I required soothing and repose. I buried it with shame and sorrow and contumely. You had abandoned me, and I felt that all ties to this world were over. I took the veil; and never was the world quitted by so willing a votary as myself. I have since been peaceful, if not happy."

"And now, Marie, you shall be happy," cried I, stretching out my arms to her. "Come to me, I will explain my motives for leaving Marseilles, and what my future intentions were, if they had not been frustrated by unforeseen events. All shall yet be well."

"Francois, all is well. I have taken a solemn vow—it is registered in Heaven. You have by fraud and imposition entered into a holy place, and assumed a holy character. Add not to your crime by even harbouring the idea of impropriety, and add not to my humiliation by supposing for a moment that I am capable of being a participator.

"Holy Virgin," cried she, falling on her knees, "I demand thy powerful aid in this conflict of worldly passions and holy wishes. Oh! make me dead to all but thee, and to the spouse whom I have accepted at thy hands."

She then rose, and continued—"How you will be able to leave this convent, Francois, I know not; but your secret is safe with me, provided that you do not again request my presence, as you have this night. My prayers shall ever be for you; but we must meet no more!" and Marie waved her hand mournfully, and quitted the apartment.

Although I had always a great contempt for the Catholic religion, of which I at that period was a member, I was awed by the beauty of virtue as it appeared in Marie, and I passed the night in melancholy reflections. I felt more love for her than ever, and determined upon persuading her to quit the convent and become my wife. The next morning I sent for her.

"Marie, you gave yourself to heaven, when you imagined that you had no tie upon earth. You were deceived; there was one whom you still loved, and who still adored you. Vows made in delusion are not registered. Leave this convent with me, become my wife, and you will do your duty better towards heaven than by pining between these walls, which contain nothing but envy, hatred, and remorse."

"Francois, you have had my answer. What has been done, cannot be undone. Save yourself, and leave me to my unhappy fate," answered Marie: then bursting into tears, "O Francois, why, why did you leave me without one word? Had you but pointed out your danger to me, I should have been the first to have insisted upon your absence, and all, all would have been borne with patience, if not with pleasure, for your sake. If what you now say is truth, all would have been well; but now I have nought to cheer me in my lonely pilgrimage, and nought to wish but that it soon may come unto its close. I forgive you, Francois; but pity me, for I deserve your pity."

"Once more, Marie, I intreat you to consent to my proposal."

"Never, Francois; I will not be less faithful to my God than I was to you: he will not desert me; and if I suffer now, will reward me for it hereafter." And Marie again quitted my apartment.

My situation in the nunnery now became insupportable, and I determined to escape. I pleaded ill-health, and kept my bed. The physician of a neighbouring convent, who had a great reputation, was sent for against my wishes. When I heard of his arrival, I dressed to receive him for I was fearful of some scrutiny. He inquired what ailed me: I answered that I had no pain, but that I was convinced I should soon depart. He felt my pulse, and, not being able to discover symptoms of disease, took his leave.

To the elder sisters who visited me, I spoke in enigmas, and told them that I had a summons, that they must expect soon to find me gone: and the sanctity of my reputation made them receive my innuendoes as inspired remarks. One night, I complained of being much worse, and requested their early retiring: they would have sent for the physician, but I forbad it, telling them I was beyond a physician's cure: kissing them all, and pronouncing over them a solemn blessing, I dismissed them. As soon as it was dark, I threw off my nun's attire, leaving it in my bed, as if I had slipped out of it; and as the windows of my apartment, which looked into the convent garden, were not barred, unclothed as I was I dropped down, and reached the ground in safety. I took the precaution, when I was outside, to shut the window, that my having escaped should not enter their ideas, and climbing a tree which overhung the wall of the garden, dropped from a bough on the other side, and found myself at liberty. As I knew that the farther I was from the nunnery, the less chance I had of being supposed an impostor, I gained the high road, and ran as fast as I could in the direction from Marseilles to Toulouse.

I had proceeded several miles without encountering any body at that still hour of the night, occasionally alarmed at the barking of some snarling cur, as I passed through the small villages in my route,—when, worn out with fatigue and cold, I sat down under a hedge to screen myself from the cold "mistral" which blew. As the wind lulled, I heard sounds of voices in lamentation, which appeared to proceed from the road at a short distance. I rose, and continued my route, when I stumbled over the body of a man. I examined him by the faint light that was emitted from the stars. He was quite dead; and it immediately occurred to me that a robbery had been committed, and the lamentations which I had heard proceeded from those who had escaped with their lives. The cloak of the dead man was lying underneath him; it was a capote, such as are worn by officers. I unclasped it from his neck, round which it was fastened with two bear's-paws chased in silver, and, wrapping it round my benumbed limbs, proceeded further on to where I now occasionally heard voices much plainer than before. I again fell in with two more prostrate bodies, and, as the day had now begun to break, perceived that they were clothed like people of low condition. Passing my hand over their faces, I felt that they were quite dead and stiff. Afraid that if found close to the spot, and unable to give any account of myself, I should be accused of murder, I thought of immediate flight; but the plaintive voice of a woman met my ears, and it was an appeal that I could not resist. I proceeded a few yards further, and perceived a carriage, the horses of which lay dead in their traces, with the driver beside them. To the hind wheels were secured with ropes an elderly man and a young woman.

"God be praised, my dear father, help is at hand!" said the young woman, as I approached; and as I came close to them, she cried out, "Oh, I know him by his cloak; it's the gentleman who defended us so gallantly, and whom we supposed to have been killed. Are you much hurt, sir?"

Aware that I had better be any body than myself; with my usual invention and presence of mind I replied, "Not much, madam, thanks be to Heaven! I was stunned, and they left me for dead: I am happy that I am still alive, to be of service to you:" and I immediately proceeded to cast loose the ropes by which the father and daughter (as by their conversation they appeared to be) had been confined to the wheels. The robbers had stripped them both nearly to the skin, and they were so numbed with the cold that they could scarcely stand when they were unbound,—the poor girl especially, who shivered as if suffering under a tertian ague. I proposed that they should enter the carriage as the best shelter they could receive from the bitter keen wind which blew, and they agreed to the prudence of my suggestion.

"If I am not requesting too great a favour, sir," said the old gentleman, "I wish you would lend my poor daughter that cloak, for she is perishing with the cold."

"I will with pleasure, sir, as soon as you are both in the carriage," replied I; for I had made up my mind how to proceed. I assisted them in, and, shutting the door, slipped off the cloak and put it in at the window, saying, "Believe me, madam, I should have offered it to you before, but the fact is, the rascals served me, as I lay stunned, in the same manner as they have you; and I must now go in search of something to cover myself." I then went off at a quick pace, hearing the young woman exclaim, "Oh, my father, he has stripped himself to cover me." I immediately returned to the body of the gentleman whose cloak I had borrowed, and for whom I had no doubt that I had been mistaken. I stripped off all the clothes from his rigid limbs, and put them on: they fitted me exactly, and, what was more fortunate, were not stained with blood, as he had received his death-wound from a bullet in the brain. I then dragged the body to the other side of the hedge, where I threw it into a ditch, and covered it with long grass, that it might not be discovered. Daylight had made its appearance before I had completed my toilet; and when I came back to the carriage, the old gentleman was loud in his thanks. I told him that in returning to strip one of the other bodies I had found my own clothes in a bundle, which the robbers had left in their haste to escape from pursuit.

The young lady said nothing, but sat shrouded up in the cloak, in one corner of the carriage. I now entered into conversation with the old gentleman, who explained to me how the attack began, before I had come to their assistance: and from the information I received from him, I was enabled to form a very good idea of the story that I was to tell. I found that I had been on horseback with my servant, when I rode to their assistance; that we had been both supposed to be killed, and that we were about five miles from any post town.

By this time it was broad daylight, and I made another discovery, which was, that I was wearing an officer's undress. Anxious to gratify my curiosity by a sight of the young lady, I turned to her as she lay muffled up in the cloak, and expressed a hope that she did not feel cold. She put her head out, and answered in the negative with such a sweet smile, upon such a sweet face as I never had before witnessed. I looked at her as if transfixed, and did not take my eyes off until she blushed, and again sank back as before.

This brought me to my recollection; I offered to go for assistance, and my services were thankfully accepted. I passed by the men who had been killed, as I went on my mission: one was habited in a livery similar to the coach-man who lay dead by his horses; the other was in that of a groom, and I took it for granted that he had been my servant. I searched in his pockets for information; and, collecting the contents, commenced reading them as I walked along.

By his memoranda I found out that I had come from Aix. By letters and papers in my own pockets I ascertained who I was, who my father was, to what regiment I belonged, that I was on leave of absence, and that I had a brother, whose affectionate letter I read carefully for further information. I had not time to count a considerable sum of money, which was in my purse, before I fell in with a countryman, who was leading his horses to the plough. Briefly narrating the circumstances, I offered him a handsome remuneration, if he would mount one of his horses, and procure immediate assistance. Having seen him off in a hand-gallop, I returned to the carriage to try if it were possible to have one more view of that face which had so enchanted me. I stated the good fortune I had met with, and my hopes of a speedy deliverance from their trouble. I answered the old gentleman's inquiry of the name and condition of the person to whom he and his daughter had been so much indebted; talked of my father the Comte de Rouille, of my regiment; and then requested a similar confidence.

He was le Marquis de Tonseca, and the young lady was his daughter; they were proceeding to their chateau about seven miles distant, where he hoped I would accompany them, and allow him an opportunity of showing his gratitude.

I hesitated, talked of engagements—not that I intended to refuse the invitation, but because the young lady had not joined in the request. My plan had the desired effect; again the lovely face appeared from under the cloak, and the sweetest voice in the world expressed a wish that I would not refuse her father's invitation. I blushed, and stammered consent. Pleased at her victory, she smiled, and again was folded up in the cloak, which I could have torn to pieces for its envious concealment.

Assistance had now arrived; a crowd of people, headed by an officer to take the proces verbal, and two pair of post-horses came up; the deposition of the marquis and myself were briefly taken; his, as to what he had seen, and mine "to the best of my knowledge and belief." The papers were signed, the dead bodies were carried off, the horses put to; and, at the request of the marquis, I took my seat in the carriage between him and his daughter, and we proceeded to the chateau.

In two hours we arrived at a magnificent pile, which bespoke the wealth and ancestry of the owner; and I had the pleasure of carrying in my arms, up the long flight of steps by which we ascended to the entrance, the beautiful girl, muffled up as she was in the cloak. As soon as I had laid her down upon a sofa, I left her to the care of the females who were in attendance, and quitted the room. The marquis had retired to his own apartment, to supply the deficiencies in his attire, and for a short time I was left alone to my own reflections. What is to be the result of all this? thought I. Is there to be no end of my assumption of the clothes and titles of other people,—this continual transmigration before death? Yet how much more has it depended upon circumstances than upon myself!

After much reflection, I determined upon letting things take their own course, trusting to my own ready invention and good fortune for the issue. I felt it to be impossible to tear myself from the sweet creature whose personal charms had already fascinated me, and I vowed that there was no risk, no danger, that I would not brave to obtain her love.

In an hour we met at the breakfast-table, and I was more than ever enchanted;—but I will not detain your highness by dwelling too long upon the subject.

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"No, don't, yaha bibi, my friend," said the pacha, yawning, "your story gets very dry already. We'll suppose the cypress waist, the stag's eyes, and full moon of her face. We Musselmen don't talk so much about women; but I suppose as you were a Frenchman, and very young then, you knew no better. Why you talk of women as if they had souls!" The renegade did not think it advisable to express his opinion in contradiction to that of his highness, and the assertions of the Prophet. "It cannot be said that I behaved to them as if they had," replied he; "and before I changed my religion, I was often smitten with remorse for my selfish and unfeeling conduct towards Marie; but all that is passed, I am now a Turk;" and the renegade passed his hand over his brow; for some long, smothered feelings of virtue had been conjured up by remorse, as he was reminded of the career of guilt which he had run through, and which he had climaxed by the denial of his Redeemer. After a short pause he continued—

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For a week I remained in the society of the marquis and his daughter, daily ingratiating myself more and more with both. I had not declared my passion to his daughter, for there was something that irresistibly prevented me; yet I knew that I was not viewed with indifference. Our party was then increased by the appearance of the Bishop of Toulouse, the brother of the marquis, who came to congratulate him and his niece upon their fortunate escape. I was presented as the gentleman who had so materially assisted. The bishop stared at me with surprise.

"It is strange," observed he, "that a body has been found in a ditch, near to where the robbery occurred, and has been recognised to be that of the very young officer to whom you now introduce me. How can this be?"

The marquis and his daughter appeared astonished at the intelligence (and in truth so was I), but it was only for a second. "How say you, sir," exclaimed I, with trepidation, "a body recognised as the son of the Comte de Rouille? My poor, poor brother! my dear Victor have you then perished? what injustice have I done you!"

Throwing myself on the fauteuil, I covered my face with my handkerchief, as if overpowered with grief; but, in reality, I was reflecting what I should say next.

"Your brother!" exclaimed the marquis in surprise.

"Yes, marquis, my brother. I will now state the circumstances which induced me to conceal from you that he was in my company at the time of the attack. When I galloped to your assistance, I was followed by my brother, who was riding with me to Marseilles, and of whom you recollect I have spoken; but after the first discharge of fire-arms I found that he was not at my side, and I imagined that he had deserted me from fear. I could not bear that such a disgrace upon the family should be known, and I therefore made no mention of him when I came back. Little did I think, that while I was accusing him in my heart of cowardice, he was dead, and his heart's blood had been poured out in my defence. Victor, my dear Victor!" continued I, "how great has been my injustice, and what can repay me for your loss?" and I threw myself down on the sofa, as if frantic with grief.

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"Huckaback," observed the pacha, "it appears to me that in your younger days you were a great scoundrel."

"I acknowledge it," replied the renegade; "but, in extenuation, your highness must call to mind that at that time I was a Christian."

"By the beard of the Prophet, that is well said, and very true!" replied the pacha.

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The marquis and his brother were shocked at having so unintentionally plunged me into affliction. They offered consolation; but finding their endeavours fruitless, quitted the room, thinking it advisable to leave me to myself. Cerise, for that was the name of the daughter, remained, and after a short pause came to me, and in her silvery voice, as she laid her hand upon my shoulder, addressed me:—

"Console yourself, my dear Felix;" but I made no answer. "How unhappy I am!" said she: "it was in my defence that he lost his life: it was to your courage that I am indebted for my preservation:—he is dead, and you are miserable. Can nothing repay you for the loss of your brother?—Nothing, Felix?"

I raised my head; her eyes were swimming with tears, and beaming with love. As I resumed my seat upon the sofa, I drew her gently towards me. She offered no resistance, and in a moment she had sunk down by my side, as my arms entwined her beauteous form.

"Yes," murmured I, "Cerise, I am repaid." Smiling through her blushes, she disengaged herself, and rose to depart. Returning once more at my request, I imprinted a kiss upon her brow: she waved her hand, and hastened out of the room.

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"That was a very nice girl, by your description," interrupted the pacha: "pray what might you pay for such a girl in your country?"

"She was beyond all price," replied the renegade, with an absent air, as if communing with times past. "Love is not to be bought. The Moslem purchases the slave and blind submission to his will, but he makes not love."

"No, he buys it ready made," replied the pacha; "and I must say I wish you had done the same; for, with all this love-making, you get on but slowly with your story. Proceed."

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I remained another week, when the bishop, who had not yet taken his departure, one morning drove over to Marseilles, and returned to dinner. "I was sent for," observed he, as we sat down to table, "to consult as to the propriety of requesting from the Pope the canonisation of the Soeur Eustasie, of whom you have heard so much, and whose disappearance has been attributed to miraculous agency: but during our consultation, a piece of information was sent in, which has very much changed the opinion of parties as to her reputed sanctity. It appears that near the spot where the vessel was wrecked they have discovered the body of a woman dressed in man's clothes; and it is now supposed that some miscreant has personified her at the convent, and has subsequently escaped. The officers of justice are making the strictest search; and if the individual is found, he will be sent to Rome to be disposed of by the Inquisition."

As your highness may imagine, this was not very agreeable news: I almost started from my chair when I heard it; but I had sufficient mastery over myself to conceal my feelings, although every morsel that I put into my mouth nearly choked me.

But before dinner was over the plot thickened; a letter was brought to the marquis from my adopted father, the Comte de Rouille, stating that such contradictory reports had been received, that he could not ascertain the truth. From one he heard that his eldest son was alive, and at the chateau; from others that he had been murdered; others congratulated him in their letters upon the escape of one of his sons. He requested the marquis to inform him of the real state of affairs, and to let him know by the bearer whether his eldest son was with him, or whether he had met with the unfortunate death that was reported; and as his youngest son was at home, and had been there for some months, he could not but imagine, as both of them were mentioned in the reports, that there might be some imposture in the business.

I perceived by the change of countenance in the marquis that affairs were not going well, and was to a certain degree prepared, when he gravely handed the letter to the bishop; who; having read it, passed it over to me, saying, with a stern look, "This concerns you, sir." I read it with a composed countenance, and, returning it to the marquis, I observed with a sigh, "There is no kindness in such deception; the blow will only fall heavier upon the old man when it does come. You are aware, sir, I mentioned, it to you (or rather, I believe, it was to Mademoiselle Cerise), that my father is blind, and has been so for the last two years. They have been afraid to tell him the truth, and have made him believe that Victor is there. You must know, sir, that it was clandestinely that my dear brother quitted his father's house to accompany me. Unhappy hour when I yielded to his intreaties! But, monsieur le marquis, I perceive that it is now imperative that I should go to my father; he will need the assurance of my existence to support him in his grief. I will therefore, with your permission, write a few lines by the bearer of this communication, and to-morrow morning at daylight must unwillingly tear myself away from your charming society."

The cool and confident air with which I answered, removed suspicion; and having written a few lines to the comte, and requested from the marquis the loan of his seal, I applied the wax, and desired the servant to deliver it as an answer to the messenger, whom I was not sorry to see galloping by the window. "Oh," cried I, "'tis Pierre: had I known that, I should have asked him some questions."

This well-timed exclamation of mine, I perceived, did not fail to have its weight. We again sat down to table, and I was treated with more than usual kindness by the marquis and his brother, as if in compensation for their having, for a moment, harboured a suspicion of my honesty. But I was ill at ease; and I felt that I never had acted with more prudence than in proposing my early departure.

In the evening I was alone with Cerise. Since the news of my brother's death, and the scene that followed, we had sworn unalterable love; and in that instance only was I sincere. I loved her to desperation, and I dote on her memory now, though years have rolled away, and she has long been mingled with the dead. Yes, Cerise, if from the regions of bliss, where thy pure spirit dwells, thou canst look down upon a wretch so loaded with guilt as I am, oh, turn not away with horror, but view with pity one who loved as fondly as man could love, and hereafter will care little for all that Paradise can offer if thy fair spirit must not bid him welcome!

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"I wish, Huckaback," observed the pacha, angrily, "that you would go on with your story: you are talking to a dead woman, instead of a live pacha."

"I intreat your pardon," replied the renegade; "but to amuse your highness, I have entered into scenes which long have been dismissed from my memory and the feelings attending them will rise up, and cannot well be checked. I will be more careful as I proceed."

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Cerise was melancholy at the idea of my departure. I kissed the tears away, and the time flew rapidly. I persuaded her to allow me an interview after the family had retired, as I had much to say to her.

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"Well, well, we'll suppose all that," observed the pacha, impatiently: "now go on; you remember you were to set off in the morning."

"Yes, yes, your highness," replied the renegade, somewhat displeased.

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And I did set off in the morning upon one of the marquis's horses, and rode as hard as I could to Toulon. I determined again to try my fortune at sea, as I was afraid that I should be discovered if I remained on shore. I purchased a small venture with the money in my purse, and having made my agreement with the captain of a vessel bound to St. Domingo, exchanged my dress for a jacket and trousers; and was again at the mercy of the waves.

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"Such, your highness, is the history of my First Voyage, and the incidents which resulted from it."

"Well," said the pacha, rising, "there was too much love, and too little sea in it; but, I suppose, if you had left the first out it would not have been so long. Mustapha, give him five pieces of gold, and we will have his Second Voyage to-morrow."

As soon as the pacha had retired, the renegade growled out, "If I am to tell any more stories, I must not be checked and dictated to. I could have talked for an hour after I had met Cerise, if I had not been interrupted: as it was I cut the matter short."

"But, Selim," replied Mustapha, "the pacha is not fond of these sort of adventures: he likes something much more marvellous. Could you not embellish a little?"

"How do you mean?"

"Holy Prophet! what do I mean!—Why, tell a few lies,—not adhere quite so much to matter of fact."

"Adhere to matter of fact, vizier!—why, I have not stated a single fact yet!"

"What! is not all this true?"

"Not one word of it, as I hope to go to Heaven!"

"Bismillah!—what not about Marie and the convent—and Cerise?"

"All lies from beginning to end."

"And were you never a barber?"

"Never in my life."

"Then why did you make such long apostrophes to the dead Cerise, when you observed that the pacha was impatient?"

"Merely because I was at fault, vizier, and wished to gain time, to consider what I should say next."

"Selim," replied Mustapha, "you have great talent; but mind that your next voyage is more wonderful; I presume it will make no difference to you."

"None whatever; but the pacha is not a man of taste. Now give me my five pieces, and I'll be off: I'm choked with thirst, and shall not be comfortable till I have drunk at least a gallon of wine."

"Holy Prophet! what a Turk!" exclaimed the vizier; lifting up his hands. "Here is your money, kafir;—don't forget to be here to-morrow."

"Never fear me, vizier; your slave lives but to obey you, we Turks say."

"We Turks!" muttered the vizier, as he cast his eyes upon the retiring figure of the renegade. "Well of all the scoundrels—"

"Well," muttered the renegade, who was now out of hearing, "of all the scoundrels—"

Whom they were referring to in their separate soliloquies must be left to the reader's imagination; for caution prevented either of the parties from giving vent to the remainder of their thoughts.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SIX.

"Mashallah! How wonderful is God! Did the caliph Haroun ever hear such stories?" observed the pacha, taking the pipe from his mouth, as he was indulging in company with Mustapha: "that infidel tells strange histories of strange countries—What will his mouth open to next?"

"The Shaitan bacheh, for a son of the devil he still is, although he wears the turban and bows to Allah, will prove a treasury of amusement to your sublime highness," replied Mustapha: "but what are the words of the sage?—'If thou hast gold in thy hazneh, keep it locked, and add thereto; thus shalt thou become rich.'"

"They are the words of wisdom," replied the pacha.

"Then may I advise your highness to walk out this evening in search of more, and not exhaust that which is in your possession?"

"Wallah thaib! It is well said!" answered the pacha, rising from his musnud or carpet of state: "the moon is up—when all is ready we will proceed."

In a quarter of an hour the pacha, attended by Mustapha and the armed slaves as before, again set out upon their perambulations through the city of Cairo.

They had not walked more than half an hour when they observed two men sitting at the door of a fruit-shop, at high words with each other. The pacha held up his finger to Mustapha, as a sign to stop, that he might overhear their discourse.

"I tell you, Ali, that it is impossible to hear those long stories of yours without losing one's temper."

"Long stories!" whispered the pacha to Mustapha with delight: "the very thing!—Shukur Allah! Thanks be to God!"

"And I tell you in reply, Hussan, that yours are ten times worse. You never have spoken for ten minutes without my feeling an inclination to salute your mouth with the heel of my slipper. I wish there was any one who would hear us both, and decide the point."

"That I will," said the pacha, going up to them: "to-morrow I will hear both your stories, and decide upon the merits of each."

"And who are you?" observed one of the men with surprise.

"His highness the pacha," replied Mustapha, coming forward. Both the men prostrated themselves, while the pacha directed Mustapha that they should be brought before him on the following day; and the vizier, having given them in charge to the slaves who had followed at a distance, returned home with the pacha, who was delighted at the rich harvest which he expected to reap from the two people who accused each other of telling such long stories.

When the divan of the following day had closed, the two men were summoned into the presence of the pacha.

"I shall now decide upon the merits of your stories," observed he. "Sit down there both of you, and agree between yourselves which of you will begin."

"May it please your highness, you will never be able to listen to this man Ali," observed Hussan: "you had better send him away."

"Allah preserve your highness from all evil," replied Ali, "but more especially from the talking of Hussan, which is as oppressive as the hot wind of the desert."

"I have not sent for you to hear you dispute in my presence, but to hear your stories. Ali, do you begin."

"I do assure your highness," interrupted Hussan, "that you will not listen to him three minutes."

"I do assure you," retorted the pacha, "that if you say one word more, until you are ordered, you will be rewarded with the bastinado for your trouble. Ali, begin your story."

"Well, your highness, it was about thirty years ago, you know, that I was a little boy, you know."

Here Hussan lifted up his hands, and, smiled.

"Well your highness, you know—"

"I don't know, Ali: how can I know until you tell me," observed the pacha.

"Well then, your highness must know, that ever since I was born I have lived in the same street where your highness saw us seated last night, and thirty years, you know, is a long period in a man's life. My father was a gardener, and people of his condition, you know, are obliged to get up early, that they may be in time for the market, where, you know, they bring their vegetables for sale."

"This is all very true, I dare say," observed the pacha, "but you will oblige me by leaving out all those you knows, which I agree with your comrade Hussan to be very tedious."

"That's what I have already told him, your highness: 'Ali,' says I, 'if you can only leave out your you knows,' says I, 'your story might be amusing, but,' says I—"

"Silence with your says I's," observed the pacha; "have you forgotten the bastinado? there seems to be a pair of you. Ali, go on with the story, and remember my injunction; the felek and ferashes are at hand."

"Well, your highness, one morning he rose earlier than usual, as he was anxious to be first in the market with some onions, which, you know, are very plentiful; and having laden his ass, he set off at a good round pace for the city. There, you know, he arrived at the market-place a little after the day had dawned, when, you know—"

"Did you not receive my orders to leave out you know. Am I to be obeyed or not? Now go on, and if you offend again you shall have the bastinado till your nails drop off."

"I shall observe your highness's wishes," replied Ali.—"A little after the day had dawned, you—no, he, I mean, observed an old woman sitting near one of the fruit-stalls, with her head covered up in an old dark-blue capote; and as he passed by, you—she, I mean, held out one of her fingers, and said, 'Ali Baba,' for that was my father's name, 'Listen to good advice; leave your laden beast and follow me.' Now my father, you know, not being inclined to pay any attention to such an old woman, replied, you know—"

"Holy Allah!" exclaimed the pacha in a rage to Mustapha, "what does this man deserve?"

"The punishment due to those who dare to disobey your highness's commands."

"And he shall have it; take him out; give him one hundred blows of the bastinado; put him on an ass, with his face turned towards the tail; and let the officer who conducts him through the town proclaim, 'Such is the punishment awarded by the pacha to him who presumes to say that his highness knows, when in fact, he knows nothing.'"

The guards seized upon the unfortunate Ali, to put in execution the will of the pacha; and as he was dragged away, Hussan cried out, "I told you so; but you would not believe me."

"Well," replied Ali, "I've one comfort, your story's not told yet. His highness has yet to decide which is the best."

After a few minutes' pause, to recover himself from the ruffling of his temper, the pacha addressed the other man—"Now, Hussan, you will begin your story; and observe that I am rather in an ill-humour."

"How can your highness be otherwise, after the annoyance of that bore Ali? I said so; 'Ali,' says I—"

"Go on with your story," repeated the pacha angrily.

"It was about two years ago, your highness, when I was sitting at the door of the fruit-shop, which your highness might have observed when you saw us last night, that a young female, who seemed above the common class, came in, followed by a porter. 'I want some melons,' says she. 'I have very fine ones, so walk in,' says I, and I handed down from the upper shelf, where they were placed, four or five musk, and four or five water-melons.

"'Now,' says I, 'young woman, you'll observe that these are much finer melons,' says I, 'than you usually can procure; therefore the lowest price that I can take,' says I, 'is—'"

"Why your says I's are much worse than Ali's you knows; leave them out, if you please, and proceed with your story," cried the pacha, with increased ill-humour.

"I will obey, your highness, if possible. I stated the lowest price, and she lifted up her veil—'I have an idea,' said she, as she allowed me to look upon one of the prettiest faces in the world, 'that they are to be had cheaper.'

"I was so struck with her beauty that I was quite speechless. 'Am I not right?' said she, smiling. 'From you, madam,' says I, 'I can take nothing; put as many in the basket of your porter as you please.' She thanked me, and put into the basket all that I had handed down.

"'Now,' says she, 'I want some dates, the best and finest that you have.' I handed some down, that would have been admired by the ladies of your highness's harem. 'These, madam,' says I, 'are the best dates that are to be found in Cairo.' She tasted them, and asked the price: I mentioned it. 'They are dear,' replied she, 'but I must have them cheaper,' and again she lifted her veil. 'Madam,' says I, 'these dates are much too cheap at the price which I have mentioned; it really is impossible to take one para less; observe, madam,' says I, 'the beauty of them, feel the weight, and taste them,' says I, 'and you must acknowledge,' says I, 'that they are offered to you at a price which,' says I—"

"Holy Prophet!" cried the pacha in a rage; "I will hear no more of your says I's: if you cannot tell your story without them, you shall fare worse than Ali."

"May it please your highness, how will it be possible for you to know what I said, unless I point out to you what I did say? I cannot tell my story without it."

"I'll see that," replied the pacha, in a savage tone; and making a sign, the executioner made his appearance. "Now, then, go on with your story; and, executioner, after he has repeated says I three times, off with his head! Go on."

"I shall never be able to go on, your highness; consider one moment how harmless my says I's are to the detestable you knows of Ali. That's what I always told him 'Ali,' says I, 'if you only knew,' says I, 'how annoying you are! Why there,' says I—"

At this moment the blow of the scimitar fell, and the head of Hussan rolled upon the floor; the lips, from the force of habit, still quivering in their convulsions with the motioning which would have produced says I, if the channel of sound had not been so effectually interrupted.

"That story's ended!" observed the pacha in a rage. "Of all the nuisances I ever encountered, these two men have beat them all. Allah forbid that I should again meet with a says I, or you know!"

"Your highness is all wisdom," observed Mustapha; "may such ever be the fate of those who cannot tell their stories without saying what they said." The pacha, irritated at his disappointment, and little soothed by the remark of Mustapha, without making any answer to it was about to retire to his harem, when Mustapha, with a low salaam, informed him that the renegade was in attendance to relate his Second Voyage, if he might be permitted to kiss the dust in his presence. "Khoda shefa midehed— God gives relief," replied the pacha, as he resumed his seat: "let him approach."

The renegade entered; and having paid the customary obeisance, took his seat, and commenced the narrative of his Second Voyage:—

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May it please your most sublime highness, the day after I embarked we sailed with a fair wind; and having cleared the Straits, flattered ourselves with the prospect of a successful voyage; but we were miserably disappointed, for three days afterwards we fell in with a small brig under English colours. As she was evidently a merchant vessel we paid no attention to her running down to us, supposing that she was out of her reckoning, and wished to know her exact position on the chart. But as soon as she was close to us, instead of passing under our stern, as we expected, she rounded to, and laid us by the board. Taken by surprise and having no arms, we were beaten down below; and in a few minutes the vessel remained in the possession of our assailants. They held a short consultation, and then opening the hatches, a boatswain pulled out his whistle, and in a tremendous voice roared out, "All hands ahoy!" which was followed by his crying out, "Tumble up there, tumble up!" As we understood this to be a signal for our appearance on deck, we obeyed the summons. When we all came up, we found out that if we had had any idea that they were enemies, we might have beaten them off, as they were only fifteen in number while we mustered sixteen. But it was too late: we were unarmed, and they had each of them a cutlass, with two pistols stuck in their girdles. As soon as we were all on deck, they bound our arms behind us with ropes and ranged us in a line. Having inquired of each of us our respective ranks and professions, they held a short consultation, and the boatswain addressing me, said: "Thank Heaven, you scoundrel, that you were brought up as a barber, for it has saved your life!"

He then cut loose the cords which bound me, and I remained at liberty. "Now then, my lads!" continued the boatswain, "Come, every man his bird!" and, so saying, he seized upon the captain of the vessel, and leading him to the gangway, passed his sword through his body, and tossed him into the sea.

In the same manner each of the murderous villains led forward the man he had selected, and putting an end to his life, either by the sword or pistol, launched the corpse into the waves.

My blood curdled as I beheld the scene, but I said nothing. I considered myself too fortunate to escape with life. When it was all over, the boatswain roared out, "That job's done! Now, Mr Barber, swab up all this here blood, and be damned to you! and recollect that you are one of us." I obeyed in fear and silence, and then returned to my former station near the taffrail.

The people who had captured us, as I afterwards found out, were part of the crew of an English Guinea-man, who had murdered the master and mate, and had taken possession of the vessel. As our brig was a much finer craft in every respect, they determined upon retaining her and scuttling their own. Before night they had made all their arrangements, and were standing to the westward with a fine breeze.

But exactly as the bell struck eight for midnight, a tremendous voice was heard at the hatchway, if possible more than a hunched times louder than the boatswain's, roaring out "All hands ahoy!"

The concussion of the air was so great, that the ship trembled as if she had been struck by a thunderbolt; and as soon as the motion had subsided, the water was heard to rush into every part of the hold. Every body ran on deck astonished with the sound, expecting the vessel immediately to go down, and looking at each other with horror as they stood trembling in their shirts. The water continued to rush into the vessel until it reached the orlop beams; then as suddenly it stopped.

When the panic had to a certain degree subsided, and they perceived that the water did not increase, all hands applied to the pumps, and by eight o'clock in the morning the vessel was free. Still the unaccountable circumstance weighed heavy on the minds of the seamen, who walked the deck without speaking to each other, or paying any attention to the ship's course; and as no one took the command, no one was ordered to the helm.

For my own part, I thought it a judgment upon them for their cruelty; and, expecting that worse would happen, I had made up my mind to my fate. I thought of Marie, and hoping for pardon yet fearing the worst, I vowed if I escaped that I would amend my life.

At night we again retired to our hammocks, but no one slept, so afraid were we of a second visitation. The bell was not struck by the men, but it struck itself, louder than I ever heard it before; and again the dreadful voice was heard, "All hands ahoy!" again the water rushed in, and again we ran on deck. As before, it mounted as high as the orlop beams; it then stopped, and was pumped out again by eight o'clock on the ensuing morning.

For a month, during which time we never saw land, for we had lost all reckoning, and no one cared to steer—the same dreadful visitation took place. Habit had, to a degree, hardened the men; they now swore and got drunk as before, and even made a jest of the boatswain of the middle watch, as they called him, but at the same time they were worn out with constant fatigue; and one night they declared that they would pump no longer. The water remained in the vessel all that day, and we retired to our hammocks as usual, when at midnight the same voice was again heard at the hatchway, not followed by the rush of water, but by a shriek of "Tumble up there, tumble up!"

We all started at the summons, and hastened on deck; there was something that impelled us in spite of ourselves. Never shall I forget the horrid sight which presented itself: stretched in a row on the deck of the vessel lay the fifteen bloody corpses of my shipmates who had been murdered. We stood aghast; the hair rose straight up from our heads, as we viewed the supernatural reappearances. After a pause of about five minutes, during which we never spoke or even moved, one of the corpses cried out in a sepulchral voice, "Come, every man his bird!" and held up its arms as it lay.

The man, whose office it had been to take the living body to the gangway, and after killing it to throw it overboard, advanced towards it; he was evidently impelled by a supernatural power, for never shall I forget the look of horror, the faint scream of agony, which escaped him as he obeyed the summons. Like the trembling bird fascinated by the snake, he fell into the arms of the dead body; which grasping him tight, rolled over and over in convolutions like a serpent, until it gained the break of the gangway, and then tumbled into the sea with its murderer entwined in its embraces. A flash of lightning succeeded, which blinded us for several minutes; and when we recovered our vision, the remainder of the bodies had disappeared.

The effect upon the guilty wretches was dreadful; there they lay, each man on the deck where he had crouched down, when the lightning had flashed upon him: the sun rose upon them, yet they moved not; he poured his beams on their naked bodies when at his meridian height, yet they still remained: the evening closed in, and found them in the same positions. As soon as it was dark, as if released from a spell, they crawled below, and went into their hammocks: at midnight again the bell struck; again the voice was heard, followed by the shriek; again they repaired on deck: the fourteen remaining bodies lay in a row: another of the murderers was summoned, obeyed, and disappeared: again the flash of lightning burst upon us, and all had vanished: and thus it continued every night, until the boatswain, who was reserved for the last, was dragged overboard after the rest by the corpse of the captain; and then a tremendous voice from the maintop, followed by exulting laughter, cried out, "That job's done." Immediately after which, the water rushed out of the bottom of the vessel, and she was clear as before.

Returning thanks to Heaven that I was not a party sufferer with the rest, I lay down, and for the first time for many weeks fell into a sound sleep. How long I slept, I know not: it may have been days; but I awoke at last by the sound of voices, and found that the people on board of a vessel bound from Mexico to the South of Spain, perceiving the brig lying with her sails torn, and her yards not trimmed, had sent a boat to ascertain whether there was any body remaining in her. I was afraid that if I told them what had happened, they either would not believe me, or else would refuse to take on board a person who had been in company with such examples of divine vengeance. I therefore stated that we had been attacked by dysentery about six weeks before, and all had died except myself, who was supercargo of the brig.

As their vessel was but half full, the cargo, consisting chiefly of cochineal and copper, which is stowed in small space, the captain offered to take as many of my goods as he could stow, provided I would allow him the freight. This I willingly consented to, and examining the manifest, selected the most valuable, which were removed to the Spanish vessel.

We had a favourable wind; and having run through the Straits, expected in a day or two we should anchor at Valencia, to which port she was bound; but a violent gale came on from the N.E., which lasted many days, and drove us over to the African shore. To increase our misfortunes, the ship sprung a-leak, and made so much water that we could scarcely keep her free.

The Spaniards are but indifferent sailors, your highness, and in a storm are more inclined to pray than to work: they became frightened, gave over pumping, and having lighted a candle before the image of St. Antonio, which was fixed on the stern of the vessel, began to call upon him for assistance. Not immediately obtaining their request, they took the image out of the shrine, abused it, called it every vile name that they could think of, and ended with tying it against the mainmast, and beating it with ropes.

In the mean time the vessel filled more and more; whereas, if instead of praying, they had continued at the pumps, we should have done well enough, as the gale was abating, and she did not make so much water as before.

Enraged at their cowardice, and at the idea of losing so much property as I had on board (for I considered it as my own,) I seized the image from the mast, and threw it overboard, telling them to go to their pumps if they wished to be saved. The whole crew uttered a cry of horror, and would have thrown me after the image, but I made my escape up the rigging, from whence I dared not descend for many hours.

Having now no saint to appeal to, they once more applied to the pumps. To their astonishment, the vessel made no more water, and in the course of a few hours she was free.

The next morning the gale was over, and we were steering for Valencia. I observed that the captain and sailors avoided me, but I cared little about it, as I felt that my conduct had saved the ship as well as my own property. On the second day we anchored in the bay, and were boarded by the authorities, who went down into the cabin, and had a long conversation with the captain. They quitted the ship, and about an hour afterwards I proposed going ashore, but the captain said that he could not permit it until the next morning. While I was expostulating with him as to the reasons for my detention, a boat rowed alongside, from out of which came two personages dressed in black. I knew them to be familiars of the Inquisition; and it immediately occurred to me that my personification of the lady abbess had been discovered, and that my doom was sealed. The captain pointed me out; they collared and handed me into the boat, and pulled for the shore in silence.

When we landed, I was put into a black coach, and conveyed to the palace of the Inquisition, where I was thrown into one of the lowest dungeons. The next day the familiars appeared, and led me to the hall of judgment, where I was asked whether I confessed my crime. I replied that I did not know what I was accused of. They again asked me if I would confess, and on my making the same answer I was ordered to the torture.

As I knew that I had no chance, I thought I might as well avoid unnecessary pain, and declared that I did confess it.

"What instigated you to the deed?"

Not well knowing what to reply, as I was not exactly aware of the nature of my offence, I answered that it was the blessed Virgin.

"Blasphemer!" cried the grand inquisitor, "what! the blessed Virgin desired you to throw St. Antonio overboard?"

"Yes," replied I (glad that at all events the crime was not what I had anticipated), "she did; and told me that it would be the saving of the vessel."

"Where were you?"

"On the deck."

"Where did you see her?"

"She was sitting on a small blue cloud, a little above the topsail-yard. 'Fear not, Francois,' said she, motioning with her hand, 'to throw the image overboard.'" The inquisitors were astonished at my boldness: a consultation was held, as to whether I should be treated as a blasphemer, or the circumstance blazoned into a miracle. But it unfortunately happened for me that a miracle had occurred very lately; and there were very few people to be burnt at the auto-da-fe of the ensuing month.

It was therefore decided against me. I was reviled, abused, and sentenced to the flames; but I determined, as my only chance, to put a good face upon the matter to the very last. Looking up, as if to a point in the ceiling of the dark hall of judgment, and holding my hands before, as if in amazement—"Holy Virgin," cried I, bending on my knee, "I thank thee for the sign. My Lord," continued I fiercely, "I fear you not; you have sentenced me to perish by the flames; I tell you that I shall leave my dungeon with honour, and be as much courted as I have been now reviled."

The inquisitors were for a moment staggered, but their surprise gave place to their cruelty, when they considered how long they had tortured thousands for doubting points to which they themselves had never for a moment given credence. I was remanded to my dungeon; and the gaoler, who had never before witnessed such boldness in the hall of justice, and was impressed with the conviction that I was supported as I had affirmed, treated me with kindness, affording me comforts, which, had it been known, would have cost him his situation.

In the meantime the cargo of the vessel was landed at the Custom-house, and she was hauled on shore to have her bottom caulked and pitched, when, to the astonishment of the captain and crew, the hole which had occasioned the leak was discovered with the head of the figure of the saint, which I had thrown overboard, so firmly wedged in, that it required some force to pull it out. "A miracle! a miracle!" was cried from the quays, and proclaimed through every part of the town. It was evident that the Virgin had instigated me to throw over the image, as the only means of stopping the leak. The friars of the nearest convent claimed the image from their propinquity, and came down to the ship in grand procession to carry it to their church. The grand inquisitor, hearing the circumstance, acknowledged to the bishop and heads of the clergy my intrepid behaviour in the hall of judgment: and not three hours after the ship had been hauled on shore, I was visited in my dungeon by the grand inquisitor, the bishop, and a long procession, my pardon requested, and the kiss of peace demanded and given. I was taken away with every mark of respect, and looked upon as one under special favour of the Virgin. "Did I not say, my lord, that I should leave my dungeon in honour?"

"You did, my friend," answered the inquisitor: and I heard him mutter, "either there is such a person as the Virgin Mary, or you are a most ready-witted scoundrel."

During my stay at Valencia, I was courted and feasted by every body, and sold my goods at an enormous price; for every one thought that to possess any thing that had belonged to me must bring them good fortune. I received many handsome presents, had divers requests to become a member of the different fraternities of monks, and eventually quitted the town with a large sum of money, with which I proceeded to Toulon, with the intention of making some inquiry after my dear Cerise, whose image was still the object of my dreams, as well as of my waking thoughts.

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"Stop," said the pacha; "I wish to know, whether you believe that the Virgin, as you call her, did thrust the head of the image into the hole in the bottom of the ship."

"May it please your highness, I do not. I believe it originated from nothing but cause and effect. It is the nature of a whirlpool to draw down all substances that come within its vortex. The water pouring into the bottom of the ship is but the vortex of a whirlpool reversed; and the image of the saint, when it was thrown overboard to leeward of the ship, which was pressed down upon it by the power of the wind, was forced under the water, until it was taken into the vortex of the leak, and naturally found its way into the hole."

"I dare say you are very right," answered the pacha, "but I don't understand a word you have said."

"Such, your highness, were the adventures attending my Second Voyage," concluded the renegade, with an inclination of his head.

"And a very good voyage too! I like it better than your first. Mustapha, give him ten pieces of gold: you will bring him here to-morrow, and we will hear what happened in his third."

"You observe," said Mustapha, when the pacha had retired, "my advice was good."

"Most excellent!" replied the renegade, holding out his hand for the money: "To-morrow I'll lie like any barber."



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SEVEN.

"Keoda shefa midehed—God gives relief!" cried the pacha, as the divan closed: and, certainly, during its continuance many had been relieved of their worldly goods, and one or two from all future worldly thoughts or wanderings.—"What have we to-day, Mustapha?"

"May your highness's shadow never be less!" replied the vizier. "Have we not the slave who offered to lay his story at your sublime feet, on the same evening that we met those sons of Shitan—Ali and Hussan, who received the punishment merited by their enormous crimes? Have we not also the manuscript of the Spanish slave, now translated by my faithful Greek; who tells me that the words are flowing with honey, and their music is equal to that of the bulbul when singing to his favourite rose?"

"And the Giaour who relates his voyages and travels," interrupted the pacha—"where is he? No kessehgou of our own race tells stories like unto his."

"The Giaour is on the waters, your highness. He is a very rustam on board of a ship, and brings wealth to the hazneh of your sublime highness. He consulted the astrologers, and the stars were propitious. To-morrow I expect he will return."

"Well, then, we must content ourselves with what is offered. Let the slave approach, and we will listen to his story, since we cannot have the wonderful tales of Huckaback."

"Whose dog was Lokman, to be compared to your sublime highness in wisdom?" replied Mustapha. "What are the words of Hafiz—'Every moment that you enjoy, count it gain. Who shall say what will be the event of any thing?'"

The slave, who had been detained by the orders of Mustapha, was ordered to appear. During his confinement, Mustapha had been informed by his people that he was "visited by Alla;" or in other words, that he was a madman. Nevertheless, Mustapha—who was afraid to release a man (or rather, a story) without the consent of the pacha, and could not send for the renegade to supply any defalcation—considered that, upon the whole, it was better that he should be admitted to the presence of the pacha.

"You asked me to hear your story," observed the pacha, "and I have consented,—not to please you, but to please myself, because I am fond of a good story: which I take it for granted yours will be, or you would not have presumed to make the request. Now you may go on."

"Pacha," replied the slave, who had seated himself in a corner, working his body backward and forward, "it is the misfortune of those who not aware—of the excitement which—as I before stated to your highness exceeds in altitude the lofty and snow-covered peak of Hebrus—and, nevertheless, cannot be worth more than four or five paras—"

"Holy Prophet! what is all this?" interrupted the pacha; "I cannot understand a word that you say. Do you laugh at our beard? Speak more intelligibly. Remember!"

"I remember it as if it were now," continued the maniac, "although years have rolled away. Never will it be effaced from my recollection while this heart, broken as it is, continues to beat, or this brain may be permitted to burn. The sun had just disappeared behind the rugged summits of the mountain which sheltered my abode from the unkind north-east wind: the leaves of the vines that hung in festoons on the trellis before my cottage, which, but a minute before, pierced by his glorious rays, had appeared so brilliant and transparent, had now assumed a browner shade, and, as far as the eye could reach, a thin blue vapour was descending the ravine: the distant sea had changed its intense blue for a sombre grey, while the surf rolled sullenly to the beach, as if in discontent that it could no longer reflect the colours of the prism as before, when it seemed to dance, with joy under the brilliant illumination of the god of day—"

"Poof!" ejaculated the pacha, fanning himself.

"My boat was on the beach; my eyes were fixed upon it, in happy vacancy, until the shades of night prevented my discerning the nets which were spread upon its gunnel. I turned round at the soft voice of my Etana, who was seated near me with her infant in her arms, and watching the little one's impatience, as it would demand a more rapid flow of milk from that snowy breast, and the fond smile of the delighted mother, as she bent over the first dear pledge of our affection. I felt happy— almost too happy: I had all I wished—yes I had,"—and the maniac paused and smote his forehead, "but it is past now."

After a second or two he resumed—

"For my part it has always been my opinion that when the wind backs to the south-east, the fish repair to the deep water; and if you will be careful when you gather the grapes not to throw in the stalks, that the wine will, as I before stated to your highness, only increase the extreme difficulty of ascertaining how far a man could conscientiously demand, that is to say, in proportion to the degree of intellect, stated at different intervals, and extending down the crags of the whole ravine."

"I cannot, positively, understand a word of all this!" exclaimed the pacha, with irritation; "can you, Mustapha?"

"How is it possible for your slave to comprehend that which is concealed from the wisdom of your highness?"

"Very true," replied the pacha.

"Your highness will understand it all by-and-bye," observed the maniac; "but it will be necessary that you wait until I have finished the story, when it will all reel off like a skein of silk, which at present but appears to be ravelled."

"Well then," replied the pacha, "I wish you would begin at the end of your story, and finish with the beginning. Now go on."

"There is nought under Heaven so interesting—so graceful—so pleasing to contemplate as a young mother with her first-born at her breast. The soft lisps and caresses of childhood—the expanding graces of the budding maiden—the blushing, smiling yet trembling bride, all lose in the comparison with woman in her beauty, fulfilling her destiny on earth; her countenance radiating with those intense feelings of delight, which more than repay her for her previous hours of sorrow and of anguish. But I'm afraid I tire your highness."

"Wallah el Nebi!—by God and his Prophet, you do indeed. Is it all to be like that?"

"No! pacha. I wish to Heaven that it had been. Merciful God!—why didst thou permit the blow? Was not I grateful?—Were not my eyes suffused with tears, springing from gratitude and love, at the very moment when they rushed in—when their murdering weapons were pointed to my breast—when the mother shrieked as they tore away the infant as a useless incumbrance and dashed it to the ground—when I caught it up, and the pistol of the savage Turk put an end to its existence? I see it now, as I kissed the little ruby fountain which bubbled from its heart: I see her too, as they bore her away senseless in their arms. Pacha, in one short minute I was bereft of all—wife, child, home, liberty, and reason; and here I am, a madman and a slave!"

The maniac paused: then starting upon his feet, he commenced in a loud voice:—"But I know who they were—I know them all, and I know where she is too: and now, pacha, you shall do me justice. This is he who stole my wife; this is he who murdered my child; this is he who keeps her from my arms: and thus I beard him in your presence;" and as he finished his exclamations, he sprang upon the terrified Mustapha, seizing him by the beard with one hand, while, with the other, he beat his turban about his head.

The guards rushed in, and rescued the vizier from the awkward position in which he was placed by his own imprudence, in permitting the man to appear at the divan.

The rage of the pacha was excessive; and the head of the maniac would have been separated from his body, had it not been for the prudence of Mustapha, who was aware that the common people consider idiots and madmen to be under the special protection of Heaven, and that such an act would be sufficient to create an insurrection. At his intercession, the man was taken away by the guards, and not released until he was a considerable distance from the palace.

"Allah karim!—God is merciful!" exclaimed the pacha as soon as the maniac had been carried away. "I'm glad that he did not think it was me who had his wife."

"Allah forbid that your highness should have been so treated. He has almost ruined the beard of your slave," replied the vizier, adjusting the folds of his turban.

"Mustapha, make a memorandum never again to accept an offer. I'm convinced that a volunteer story is worth nothing."

"Your highness speaks the truth—no man parts readily with what is worth retaining—gold is not kicked up with the sandal, nor diamonds to be found glittering in the rays of the sun. If we would obtain them, we must search and labour in the dark mine.—Will your highness be pleased to hear the manuscript which had been translated by the Greek slave?"

"Be it so," replied the pacha, not in the very best of humours.

The Greek made his appearance and made his salutation, and then read as follows:—

MANUSCRIPT OF THE MONK.

Recording the Discovery of the Island of Madeira.

Before I am summoned to that offended tribunal, to propitiate which I have passed so many years in penitence and prayer, let me record for the benefit of others the history of one, who, yielding to fatal passion, embittered the remainder of his own days, and shortened those of the adored partner of his guilt. Let my confession be public, that warning may be taken from my example; and may the sincerity with which I acknowledge my offence, and the tears which I have shed, efface it from the accumulated records of the willfulness and disobedience of man!

In a few days this attenuated frame will be mingled with the dust from which it sprung, and scattered by the winds of heaven, or by the labour of future generations, as chance may dictate, will yield sustenance to the thistle which wars against the fertility of nature, or the grain which is the support of our existence,—to the nightshade with its deadly fruit, or the creeping violet with its sweet perfume. The heart which has throbbed so tumultuously with the extreme of love, and which has been riven with the excess of woe, will shortly pant no more. The mind which has been borne down by the irresistible force of passion,— which has attempted to stem the torrent, but in vain, and, since the rage of it has passed away, has been left like the once fertile valley which has been overflown, a waste of barrenness and desolation,—will shortly cease from its wearied action. In a few brief days I must appear in the presence of an offended, yet merciful Saviour, who, offering every timing, weeps at the insanity of our rejection. Let then the confessions of Henrique serve as a beacon to those who are inclined to yield to the first impulse; when, alarmed at the discovery of their errors, they will find that conviction has arrived too late, and that, like me, they will be irresistibly impelled against the struggles of reason and of conscience.

I am an Englishman by birth: my parents were called away before I was five years old; yet still I have a dreaming memory of my mother—a faint recollection of one at whose knees I used, each night, to hold up my little hands in orison, and who blessed her child as she laid him to repose.

But I lost those whose precepts might have been valuable to me in after-life, and was left to the guardianship of one who thought that, in attending to my worldly interests, he fulfilled the whole duty which was required of him. My education was not neglected, but there was no one to advise me upon points of more serious importance. Naturally of a fiery and impatient temper,—endued with a perseverance which was only increased by the obstacles which presented themselves, I encouraged any feeling to be working in my mind in preference to repose, which was hateful. To such excess did it arrive as I grew up, that difficulty and danger, even pain and remorse, were preferable to that calm sunshine of the breast which others consider so enviable. I could exist but by strong sensations: remove them, and I felt as does the habitual drunkard in the morning, until his nerves have been again stimulated by a repetition of his draughts. My pursuits were of the same tendency: constant variety and change of scene were what I coveted. I felt a desire "to be imprisoned in the viewless winds, and blown with restless violence about the pendent world." At night I was happy; for as soon as sleep had sealed my eyes, I invariably dreamt that I had the power of aerostation, and, in my imagination, cleaved through the air with the strength of an eagle, soaring above my fellow-creatures, and looking down upon them and their ceaseless drudgery with contempt.

To a mind thus constituted by nature, and unchecked by counsel, it is not surprising that the darling wish and constant idea was to roam the world; and the vast ocean, which offered to me the means of gratifying my passion, was an object of love and adoration. If I had not the wings of the eagle with which fancy had supplied me in my dreams, still I could fly before the wings of the wind, and, as in my aerial excursions when asleep, leave no track behind. As soon as I had arrived at the age which allowed me to take possession of my property, I sought the element so congenial to my disposition. For some years I continued the profession, and was fortunate in my speculations; but I cared little for gain; my delight was in roving from clime to clime, flying before the gale,—in looking with defiance at the vast mountainous seas which threatened to overwhelm me,—in the roaring of the wind,—in the mad raging of the surf,—in the excitement of battle, even in the destruction and disasters of the wreck.

It may be a source of astonishment that I arrived at the age of thirty without ever feeling the sensation of love; but so it was. This most powerful of excitements, which was so to influence my future existence, had not yet been called into action: but it was roused at last, and like the hurricane, swept every thing before it in ruin and desolation. I was at Cadiz, where I had arrived with a valuable cargo, when it was proposed that I should witness the ceremony of taking the White Veil. As the young woman who professed was of a noble family, and the solemnity was to be conducted with the greatest splendour, I consented. The magnificent decorations of the church, the harmony of the singing, the solemn pealing of the organ, the splendid robes of the priests in contrast with the sombre humility of the friars and nuns, the tossing of the censers, the ascending clouds of frankincense, and, above all, the extreme beauty of the fair devotee,—produced feelings of interest which I had not imagined could have been raised from any description of pageantry. When the ceremony was over, I quitted the church with new and powerful sensations, which at the time I could not precisely analyse. But when I lay down on my couch, I perceived that, although the splendour of the rites were but faint in my recollection, the image of the sweet girl kneeling before the altar was engraven on my heart. I felt an uneasiness, a restlessness, a vacuum in my bosom, which, like that in the atmosphere, is the forerunner of the tempest. I could not sleep; but, tossing from one side to the other during the whole night, rose the next morning feverish and unrefreshed.

Following, as usual, the impulse of my feelings, I repaired to her relative, who had taken me to witness the ceremony, and persuaded him to introduce me at the wicket of the convent.

As she had yet one year of probation previous to her taking the final vows, which were for ever to seclude her from the world, in seeing her there was no difficulty. Her duteous resignation to the will of her parents, her serene and beautiful countenance, her angelic smile,—all contributed to the increase of my passion; and, after an hour's conversation, I left her with my heart in a state of tumult, of which it is not easy to express the idea. My visits were repeated again and again. In a short time I declared my sentiments, and found that I was listened to without offending. Before I quitted Cadiz which my engagements rendered imperative, I obtained from her a reciprocal acknowledgment. And as there were still nine months to pass away previous to her decision upon a monastic life, before that period had elapsed I faithfully promised to return and claim her as my own. As we professed the same faith, and she had only been sacrificed that the possessions of her brother might not be diminished by the fortune which her marriage would require, I did not anticipate any objections from her parents. I required no dower, having more than sufficient to supply her with every luxury. We parted: our hands trembled as we locked our fingers through the grating; our tears fell, but could not be mingled; our lips quivered, but could not meet; our hearts were beating with excess of love but I could not strain her in my embrace. "In three months more, Rosina!" exclaimed I, as I walked backward from the grating, my eyes still fixed upon her. "Till then farewell, Henrique! Relying upon your faith and honour, I shall not hesitate to cherish your dear image in my heart;" and, overcome by her feelings, Rosina burst into tears and hurried from my sight.

I sailed with prosperous gales, and arrived safely at my own country. My ventures were disposed of, I realised a large sum of money, had completed all my arrangements, and in a few days intended to return to Cadiz to fulfil my engagement with Rosina. I was in the metropolis impatiently waiting for the remainder of the freight, to be put on board of the vessel in which I had taken my passage, when one evening as I was sauntering in the park, anticipating the bliss of rejoining the object of my affection, I was rudely pushed aside by a personage richly attired, who was escorting two of the ladies of the court. Fired at the insult, and as usual acting upon the first impulse, I struck him in the face and drew my sword—forgetting at the time that I was in the precincts of the palace. I was seized and imprisoned: my offence was capital; my adversary a relation of the king's. I offered a large sum for my release; but when they found out that I was wealthy, they rejected as I increased my offers, until I was compelled to sacrifice one half of my worldly possessions to escape from the severity of the Star Chamber. But the loss of property was nothing; I had still more than enough: it was the dreadful length of my confinement, during which anxiety had swelled hours into days, and days into months of torture and suspense. I had been incarcerated more than a year before I could obtain my release. When in my imagination I conjured up Rosina— lamenting my infidelity, reproaching me in her solitude for my broken vows, and (there was madness in the very thought) yielding in her resentment and her grief to the solicitations of her parents, and taking the veil,—I was frantic; I tore my hair, beat the walls of my prison, raved for liberty, and offered to surrender up every shilling that I possessed.