During the remainder of the day, Sebastian carefully attended to all the prescriptions of the dervise, he went soon to rest, and at break of day rose to breathe the air in safety at the mouth of the cave.
But two short days before, how differently had the king of Portugal beheld morning dawn!—then at the head of a gallant army, surrounded by zealous friends, strong in youth, health, and hope: now, a solitary fugitive, like some desolate wretch escaped from ship-wreck or an earth-quake, sunk in despondency, and reduced to infantine feebleness.
As the light spread over the distant plain of Alcazar, and the grey mists rose, from the stream of the Lucos, he could not refrain from shedding some tears, they were sacred to the sorrows of all who had lost friends on that luckless field: his softened heart then turned fondly to the image of Gonsalva, a treasure which yet remained to comfort him under affliction. Its heavenly beauty, the dewy smile which sat upon the lips, the tearful tenderness of the eyes to which a skilful painter had given all the effect of sadness, renovated his fainting spirit; he kissed it repeatedly, exclaiming, “At sight of thee, will not all this be forgotten?”
The appearance of the dervise, checked this lover-like weakness, he concealed his picture, and advanced to meet him.
They proceeded together along a narrow valley, formed by the rocks near the cavern, where frequently resting awhile, they breathed the refreshing air of the trees, and gently returned homeward.
Whenever Abensallah and his servant went to their devotions in the mosque of a neighbouring village, he fastened the entrance of his dwelling, to prevent the intrusion of ill-intentioned persons: he now left his Christian guest, with many intreaties that he would recruit his strength with frequent nourishment, and continue to inhale the fumes of Tauz Argent, a fragrant weed which in those days was esteemed, when burned, sovereign for inward weakness.
Left a whole day alone, the King had leisure to revolve over the extraordinary revolution of his fate: the uprightness of his intentions (for it must be remembered that he measured his conduct by the rules of the church of Rome) seemed to warrant him in believing, that had not the treachery of Hamet interposed, his arms must have been successful, and half Africa rescued from its tyrants: he did not therefore account himself suffering under the wrath of Heaven, confident of whose favor he was again ready to risk his crown and his life if required. The kindness of the dervise appeared little less than a miracle worked for his preservation, and he fondly trusted therefore, that his present misfortunes were but passing trials.
Of the possibility of being betrayed by Abensallah he never once thought, convinced that the man who has performed one act of solid benevolence is incapable of being tempted by any reward to an act of baseness.
As returning strength and calmer reflection continued to banish the gloomy impressions under which he had first entered Abensallah’s cave, his spirit rose with his hopes; he felt as if he could hazard unheard-of perils for the sake of regaining Portugal, and ransoming his captive soldiers. Fain would the sanguine monarch have persuaded himself that most of his troops had escaped to the sea-coast; but amongst these he could not hope to find Stukeley.—Stukeley, who had sworn to follow him either into slavery or death!—
“And my poor little cousin!” he exclaimed aloud, “What is become of him?—Ah noble boy, thou hast gained thy wish-perhaps!—yet surely these barbarians would not kill a child!”—he sighed profoundly as he spoke, for his heavy heart denied the confidence of his words.