While they were walking up and down the beach, they met two or three of the English sailors, who were upon the look-out for any other articles the sea might have left upon the sands, and speaking to them received their thanks and blessings for the care and kindness they had experienced.
On a large piece of timber near the edge of the water sat one of the Algerines: he looked excessively weak and sickly, and as they approached him, he surveyed them with a look of gloomy despair.
"How ill that man looks," said Ellen to one of the sailors: "he seems likely to die."
"Yes, my Lady, and die he will, for he with difficulty crawled hither, he is so ill; and the woman where he lodges says he bewails himself all night, and takes no rest."
"Poor creature!" said Ellen: "he laments, doubtless, his native land, and the friends he has left behind."
"I believe, my Lady," replied the sailor, "he laments his crimes, for one of the French prisoners that speaks a little English tells me this fellow owns he has been a great sinner, and that he was bred a Christian, but renounced his religion and denied his God for the lucre of gain, amongst the Turks, and Mahometans, and such like."
"Horrible!" said Ellen: "are there such wretches?"
As she spoke, the poor miserable being approached her with feeble steps, and in French asked her if she would have the goodness to purchase a trinket he had to sell—all he had left of better days.
Ellen spoke French but imperfectly: she could read and understand it pretty well, but did not attempt to converse in it; she knew, however, what he said, and though her nature shuddered at a being of whom she had heard such a shocking account, endeavoured to answer him with civility: her voice, however, was low, and her accent not perfectly intelligible to the Algerine; and thinking she intended to accept his offer, he drew from his bosom a cross, composed of large rubies set in gold, and put it into her hand: he sighed heavily; and the sight of this ornament, which seemed to corroborate the story that this man had been bred a Christian, gave to Ellen a painful sensation: she endeavoured to make him understand that his wants should be relieved without his parting from the trinket, which she offered again to him.
At that moment Mrs. Bayfield, with the nurses and little Constantine, came towards them: she cast her eyes upon the Algerine—she trembled, again she looked; she caught the glance of his dark gloomy eyes, and the sound of his voice met her ears: instantly she exclaimed: