This continued for three or four nights, Gascoigne singing the same airs the ensuing night that he had heard the preceding, until at last it appeared that the female had no longer any fear, but changed the airs so as to be amused with the repetition of them next evening. On the fifth night she sang the first air, and our midshipman responding, she then sang another, until she had sung them all, waiting each time for the response. The wall was not more than eight feet high, and Gascoigne now determined, with the assistance of Jack, to have a sight of his unknown songstress. He asked Captain Hogg to bring on shore some inch line, and he contrived to make a ladder with three or four poles which were upstairs, used for drying linen. He fixed them against the wall without noise, all ready for the evening. It was a beautiful clear moonlight night, when he went up, accompanied by Jack. The air was again sung, and repeated by. Gascoigne, who then softly mounted the ladder, held by Jack, and raised his head above the wall; he perceived a young Moorish girl, splendidly dressed, half lying on an ottoman, with her eyes fixed upon the moon, whose rays enabled him to observe that she was indeed beautiful. She appeared lost in contemplation; and Gascoigne would have given the world to have divined her thoughts. Satisfied with what he had seen, he descended, and singing one of the airs, he then repeated the words, “Do not be afraid—I love you—I cannot speak your language.” He then sang another of the airs, and after he had finished he again repeated the words in Arabic; but there was no reply. He sang the third air, and again repeated the words, when, to his delight, he heard an answer in Lingua Franca.
“Can you speak in this tongue?”
“Yes,” replied Gascoigne, “I can, Allah be praised. Be not afraid—I love you.”
“I know you not; who are you? you are not of my people.”
“No, but I will be anything that you wish. I am a Frank, and an English officer.”
At this reply of Gascoigne there was a pause.
“Am I then despised?” said Gascoigne.
“No, not despised, but you are not of my people or of my land; speak no more, or you will be heard.”
“I obey,” replied Gascoigne, “since you wish it, but I shall pine till to-morrow’s moon. I go to dream of you. Allah protect you!”
“How amazingly poetical you were in your language, Ned,” said Easy, when they went into their room.