“We ought never to despair of the divine mercy, my brother. Many poor slaves have said, like you, ‘I shall never see my loved ones again,’ yet at this moment they are with their own, peaceful and happy. Often the galleys of religion exchange their captives; why, my brother, should you not be included some day in these exchanges?”
“Some day! Perhaps! That is my only hope,” said the Moor, despondently.
“Poor, unhappy man! then why will you say ‘never’?”
“My father is right. Never,—never—oh, that would be too horrible! Yes,—perhaps,—some day!”
And a pathetic smile played upon the lips of the Moor.
Father Elzear hesitated to make the fatal confidence. Yet the hour was approaching and he resolved to speak.
“My brother has won the confidence of all by his gentleness and courage; why, then, this morning did he—”
Father Elzear could not continue.
The Moor looked at him, astonished.
“Why, this morning, instead of obeying the overseer’s orders, did my brother strike him?”