Ephra conducted him towards a long piazza, through which they passed into a large paved court, where several slaves were refreshing themselves between their hours of labour: struggling with his imperious nature, the unhappy monarch neither saw nor heard any thing, till a passionate exclamation, in pure Portuguese, struck his ear; he turned hastily round and beheld a young man, (whose face he remembered to have seen amongst his troops,) who dropping upon one knee, repeated in whispers—“O sire! what a change is this.”
Many and powerful were the reasons of Sebastian for remaining unknown to the Moors, but his feelings, ever superior to selfish prudence, now mocked controul; he stopt, and extended both his hands, which the soldier eagerly kissed; he would have spoken, but the words died on his lips: the Portuguese recovering from his transport of mixed emotion, into sorrow and habitual reverence, fearfully relinquished his sovereign’s hand, and turned aside to conceal some tears: Ephra rudely advanced and asked the meaning of this scene.
Before Sebastian could reply, the young soldier gently answered, that he was overcome by unexpectedly finding his commanding officer in the new slave, then he prayed permission to converse with him awhile, after which he would return to his occupations with redoubled diligence.
Ephra was a man not easily moved: he coldly denied this indulgence, telling the Portuguese to mind his present superiors and forget his past ones, adding sarcastically, “whoever your captain is, whether Don or Hidalgo, he is now a slave like yourself.”
Without venturing to remonstrate, the poor youth bowed and disappeared, while Ephra morosely continued to precede his royal companion.
Every thing now was unnoticed by Sebastian: this accidental meeting with one of his subjects had subdued him; the sound of those few words pronounced in their native accent, brought into his mind such crouds of tender and affecting images, that his heart was compleatly softened: until this moment he had felt utterly abandoned, and now the unexpected proof of being still loved and honored, even by one he might be said to have injured, affected him to weakness.
It was the weakness of Sebastian to wish for the love of his fellow creatures: time, only, could teach him to be contented with their esteem.
Having conducted his melancholy companion through the obscurest parts of the Cassavee, Ephra brought him into a large square of ground surrounded by mean buildings, where a number of Christians were at work: this place contained the slaves’ habitations, and was under the direction of a governor, whose office it was to see the several tasks fulfilled, and at night to lock up all the captives in their miserable lodgings.
At sight of a new victim, this man came forward; “Here, Ben Tarab,” cried Ephra, “our illustrious master has sent you this refractory Christian to teach obedience; give him work, and see that he does not attempt to escape: if you do not present him to the great El Hader when next he calls for him, your head will answer it.”
Ben Tarab bowed submissively, and Ephra left the court.