The Moor had but recently embarked, and was utterly ignorant of the fate which awaited him. Father Elzear feared that, by informing him suddenly or sternly of the punishment he was about to undergo, the poor captive might give way to another outburst of fury, and thus incur additional suffering. Approaching him, he found him in that condition of torpor and melancholy into which he always sank when not in the exercise of his painful tasks. He wore, like the other galley-slaves, a mantle of gray stuff with a hood, and linen drawers; an iron band encircled one of his naked legs, and the chain by which he was fastened reached the length of an iron bar from the side of the bench. His hood, drawn over the fez or red wool cap which he wore, threw a transparent shade over his sunburnt face; he held his arms crossed over his breast; his fixed and open eyes seemed to look without seeing; his features were delicate and regular, and his whole exterior announced nothing except a man habituated to fatigue and hard labour.
Father Elzear, as did the greater number of the Brothers of Mercy, spoke Arabic fluently. He approached the captive gently, and, touching him lightly on the arm, woke him from his reverie.
As he recognised Father Elzear, who had always had for him a consoling word, the Moor smiled sadly, took the hand of the priest, and pressed it to his lips.
“My brother is always absorbed in his sorrows?” said Father Elzear, seating himself on the extremity of the bench, and taking the two hands of the slave in his own trembling, venerable hands.
“My wife and my child are far away,” replied the Moor, sadly; “they do not know that I am a captive; they are waiting for me.”
“My dear son must not lose all hope, all courage. God protects those who suffer with resignation. He loves those who love their own; my brother will see his wife and child again.”
The Moor shook his head, then, with a sadly expressive manner, he lifted his right hand and pointed to the sky.
Father Elzear comprehended the mute gesture, and said:
“No, it is not up there that my brother will see again those whom he longs for. It will be here,—on the earth.”
“I shall die too soon, father, so far from my wife and child; I shall not live to see them again.”