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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames rs required. The following diagrams Illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre f ilmte A des taux de reduction diff^rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul clichA, 11 est fiimA A partir de i'angle supArieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant ie nombre d'images nAcesssire. Les diagrammes suivants lllustrent la mAthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 i\ f i-.i ■I THE i^ ^vt ^^?^^iii£^^^^ LONDO^N; THOMAS DEAN 8C SON, THRItAONeEDLE STREET L 0/^-1 ,1 Ji._*{.>-w>";ir. i. B 4 FK£FAC£. and carried away to the mountains of Cuoco, where they suffered the most cruel slavery, till redeemed by the Fathers of the Redemption, about three years afterwards, being the first Chjistian captives so liberated by that benevolent order. In arranging this narrative, the author has closely followed the facts as detailed in " Accounts of Shipwrecks and Disasters at Sea,'' the old and valuable book from which she has derived them, and to which, with some few exceptions, she has faithfully adhered. She hopes the juvenile read- ing public. will derive both pleasure and profit from the perusal of the trials to which one of their own age was subjected, and which she sus- tained so well. , CHRISTIAN ENDURANCE. ' \/N/"WN/%/ WW*. " Grandmamma," cried Adolphe de T , as he ran hastily to meet the venerable Countess, as she entered the picture gallery, leaning on her grand- daughter's arm, " Grandmamma, I have found Adeline's portrait," directing her attention while he spoke to the painting in which he had disco- vered a likeness to his lovely young sister. The subject of the painting was the capture of a lady and her family by an Algerine rover, whose commander had just taken possession of the cabin of the Genoese Tartan, and appeared to be ad- dressing some encouraging words, to calm the fears of the unfortunate mother and her affrighted children. The young female, who did indeed bear a strange resemblance to Adehne de T , was clinging to the maternal bosom, and half covering her eyes to shut out the sight of the sea robber, (t 6 who had intruded himself into the cabin, at whose entrance more than one faithful servant had pe- rished in guarding their mistress. The boy, re- sembling Adolphe in features and expression, ex- hibited something between natural courage and the timidity of his age. One arm was advanced in a bold and even threatening manner, while the other hand grasped his mother's garments with all the instinctive terror of infancy. The painter had happily depicted the dignity of a noble mind struggling with adversity, in the countenance of the lady whose maternal feelings were evidently subdued by the exertion of Christian fortitude. Between the captive family and their conqueror stood a faithful servant, apparently interposing his person to guard them from any insult that might be offered to them on the part of the Corsair. Two female attendants, who were lying fainting on the floor, completed the mournful group. There was something so inexpressibly touching in the picture, that Adolphe and his sister could not refrain jfrom tears while they looked at it. The Countess wiped her aged eyes, — Adeline felt that she trembled. It was no common emotion that could thus affect her venerable progenitor, " Adeline/' again said Adolphe, but his tone was low, and only intended, this time, for his sister's f 'A %'t ear, for he, too, had remarked his grandmother's agitation, but was too delicate to notice it, or even to wish to excite it again. Adeline followed the direction of her brother's eyes, and still saw her own resemblance in a faint- ing female form, supported by the faithful attend- ant of the former scene. The first act of the drama was ended, but the second seemed more dreary, more terrible still. A barren rock, sur- rounded by boiling waves, a sinking ship, a group of miserable half-naked seamen, denoted the nature of the new calamity that had befallen the young creature whose misfortunes the whole series of paintings were intended to represent. It was a face and form of no common beauty that drooped over the servant's arm, the long golden ringlets hung dripping and dishevelled upon her shoulders and bosom, which they partially veiled. Even in her swoon, her mental agony seemed unforgotten. Was she an orphan? had shipwreck, still more cruel than captivity, left her to struggle with her hard fate alone ? The Countess perceived the anxious curiosity of her young relatives; she did not, however, explain, at that moment, the subjects of the paintings. Still holding Adeline by the arm, she advanced to the end of the gallery; she drew aside the curtain. 8 and then quitting her granddaughter, walked to a distant window. A rocky beach was here represented, a sea co- vered with wrecks, a savage turbaned groupe re- garding a dead female, whose arms still enfolded a beautiful boy. " Deep in her bosom lay his head, With half-shut violet eye ; He had known little of her dread, Nought of her agony." The daughter, reserved for bitterer trials, was carried in the faithful servant's arms, whose hands passed firmly over her eyes, prevented them from seeing the extent of her misfortunes. There was yet another picture, which represent- ed the interior of a chapel. Before the altar, the same young female was kneeling, with hands clasped and eyes upraised to Heaven. She was surrounded by a crowd of people, Turks, Jews, Armenians, Europeans, and priests, but seemed un- conscious of every thing but her great deliverance. The fashion of her garments were oriental, but her attitude, her raptured devotion, showed that the redeemed captive was a Christian still. "These paintings, my dear children, represent only too faithfully the history of my early life. )> said the Countess, advancing to meet her grand- children. "I was young and fair as Adeline, when these adventures befel me; but the arm of the Lord succoured me. He brought me out of the land of bondage, and restored me to my fa- ther and country again." " I think I have heard nurse say that you had been a slave in Africa ; but, dearest grandmamma, she never told me the particulars," replied Ade- line. " She did not know them, my dear child, and you have been brought up at a distance from me. However, if you wish to hear this disastrous nar- rative, I will endeavour to recal even the minutest incident. I am now in extreme old age, but the leading events of my captivity are as fresh in my memory as if they only happened yesterday." " Then you will tell us the whole story," cried Adolphe. "Ah, now I know why your pictures are like Adeline; how I long to hear all about your captivity, dear mamma." The Countess led her young descendants into her boudoir, whose windows overlooked the sunny fields and vine-clad hills of her own beautiful Pro- vence, and seating herself beside them, contem- plated them with the affectionate smile of a doting 10 grandmother, commenced her history in these words — " My father was, as you already know, of Irish descent, but uHobled, by the French monarch, for his military and diplomatic services. The Count de Bourke, for such was his title, had been some years Ambassador at the Court of Madrid; but my mother and her family, consisting of myself and a young brother, lived with my grandmother, Madame le Marquise de Varenne, at her chateau, not far from Aix. The troubled state of the Pe- ninsula, and the delicacy of my health, had hi- therto prevented mamma from joining her lord; but when I was near thirteen, I grew healthy, and all obstacles being happily removed, she deter- mined on joining the count, who was anxiously expecting her arrival at Madrid. "A Genoese Tartan, handsomely fitted-up by government, was appointed to convey us to Spain. We embarked at Marseilles, whither my dear grandmother, Madame Varenne, and my uncle, the Marquis, accompanied us. Taking leave of these dear relations was the first sorrow I had ever known. I had not seen my father since the birth of my brother, and the kind Marquis had always supplied his place to me. Madame Varenne was the kindest and most indulgent of all grand- 1 : ^ -; 11 mammas^ and the tears I then shed in her arms were the only bitter ones that had ever fallen from my eyes. We embarked with a fair wind, the waves danced and glitt'jred in the sun, reflecting the deep blue of the clear cloudless heavens above them. The bustle on deck, the novelty of the scene around us, made my brother and myself forget our childish grief. Mamma smiled too, through the soft tears that stood in her beautiful eyes, for she was hastening to meet the husband of her choice, and to present his children to him. Her sweet face resembled, at that moment, an April sky; even at this distance of time, I recall her to my mind, lovely and amiable as she then appeared. Yes, best of mothers! your image is still bright and fresh in my memory as ever, as we stood, hand in hand, gazing upon the receding shores of France ! " We suffered no inconvenience on the voyage as yet, all was fair and prosperous. The magnifi- cence of the state cabin, the homage paid us as the children of the Ambassador, quite turned our young heads; and when the cry of 'land, land,' met our ears, we ran upon deck quite wild with joy. Here we were joined by mamma, and as we could see the coast of Spain with the naked eye, and even inhaled the perfumed breezes from the I) >^ w^^ h f'i :r 12 shore, we all naturally concluded our voyage was nearly at an end. At this moment a second cry chilled our hearts with terror. 'A Corsair a-head! a Corsair a-head, bearing down upon us ! ' "I clung to mamma; Adolphe was less alarmed; though little more than six years old, he was a bold little fellow. ' Come, leave off crying, Victo- rine, we will fight the ship. Marechal Berwick gave me a sword, I will run and fetch it to defend you.' Mamma gently detained the brave child, and wiping the tears from my eyes, bade us ' be assured that, within sight of shore, no Algerine rovers dared attack us.' Jaques M j the steward, told us the same thing, and I became more calm. "The appearance of two armed Turkish row- boats destroyed our fancied security, they rapidly approached the vessel, leaving us no other alterna- tive than death or slavery. I withdrew with mamma and my brother into the state cabin. Ah, how gladly would we now have exchanged all its magnificence for the poorest hut in Spain or our own beloved Provence! "The contest was short, the navigators of our unfortunate vessel threw themselves flat upon the deck, to avoid the broadside poured in by the enemy. The domestics, mostly grown old in the US e was id cry •head ! irmed; was a Victo- erwick defend child, be Igerine -, the 3ecame h row- rapidly ilterna- w with cabin, iged all pain or of our pon the by the [ in the ■^ .-TT XS-i^ i i 13 !! service of my grandfather, vigorously, though vainly, defended their lady and her family. Ne- ver shall I forget the noise, the cries of triumph, or of execration, carried on in various dialects, the terrific sound of the fire-arms, the groans of the wounded and dying, which then stunned our affrighted ears. My mother, always pious, passed these dreadful moments in prayer; I repeated the words she uttered, without having any distinct idea of their meaning, so bewildered were my fa- culties with terror. A momentary silence ensued, and then a wild barbarous shout announced our captivity. Another instant and the combat was renewed at the door of the cabin, which was burst open with violence, and the bodies of two of our defenders rolled in, the steward rushing in at the same moment with the captain of the Alge- rine rover, with matchless fidelity stood between his lady and the infuriated barbarian, resolved to defend her and her children to the last drop of his blood. " This scene, my dear children, is the subject of the first picture of the series you have just been contemplating. Jaques M , was the faithful steward represented in the painting, my preserver and guardian in my painful captivity. " In the wreck of all her hopes, in the midst of 14 this slaughter, my dear mother evinced a courage that was not of this world, the fruits, indeed, of her late, communion with God in prayer. While with a look she tried to soothe my fears, she drew back my brother's advanced arm, and then, turn- ing to the barbarian chief, she signed to the steward to deliver up his sword, and by her ges- tures seemed to demand that respectful treatment her high rank required. Whether the richness of her dress, her beauty, or the dignity of her beha- viour, influenced this barbarian, I know not; but certainly he gave us very civil treatment, laying his sabre at our feet, which, but a moment before, was uplifted to take the steward's life, and by salaming very low, gave promise of behaving more courteously than we could expect from one of his creed and nation. "My mother, who spoke Italian fluently, now m remembered that it was probably understood by our captor, as she had heard, it was frequently used as a means of communication in the Levant. She addressed him in that language, and found he could converse in it with readiness. He used, to be sure, many words my mother could not under- stand, intermingUng with it a barbarous patois, called Lingua Franca; but the steward, who had been up the Straits in his youth, comprehended 16 him without difficulty, and interpreted these phrases to his mistress. "Mamma discovered to the Corsair her name and rank, and demanded to be sent on shore. She pleaded the rights of nations, and aswsured him that her quality of French Ambassadress must render her capture as dangerous as it was unlawful. She then offered him a large ransom, on condition that he landed her on the coast of Spain or France, and concluded, by showing her passport, which ought to have secured her from any attack of this kind. " In reply, the infidel told her he was the Dey's servant, and dared not act against his master's authority, but must instantly convey her and her family to Algiers. " My mother changed colour, her spirits sank, she began to weep. The barbarian was touched by her tears, he assured her that she had nothing to fear; he even gave her the chance of remaining on board the Tartan, or of accompanying him to his own vessel. He advised the former, and mamma followed his advice by staying where she was. The unfortunate Tartan was then manned by Turks, and her course altered for Algiers. "It was a great consolation for mamma that the steward remained with her, for Jaques M 16 was one of the best men in the world, uniting a clear sound head to an excellent heart. He con- soled her, by stating ' the probability of a re-cap- ture before the Tartan reached Algiers; and the probability, even if they were not so fortunate, that the Dey would not dare to detain an Ambas- sadress from a powerful Christian court, to another equally potent/ "We were within a few hours' sail of Algiers when a furious gale sprang up, which divided us from the Corsair. We were soon, either from the ignorance of our navigators, or the violence of the storm, driven out of our course ; and, to use the expressive words of the holy apostle, 'were in jeopardy.' Whether a presentiment of approach- ing death, or the dread of separation, weighed most heavily upon my mother's mind, at this period, I cannot determine, but she began to give much maternal counsel, mingled with many tears. ' Victorine,' said she, ' I have hoped all along that some unexpected deUverance would arise; but now I feel an assurance in my own mind that either death or long captivity awaits me. We may be separated, and you deprived of a mother's guar- dianship, be thrown among infidels, who will mock your Saviour, and endeavour to seduce you from the Christian faith. You are young and thought- ct 17 less; you have, perhaps, never seriously reflected upon these great truths you have known from your cradle. Now is the time to lay them to heart. Keep them, my darling girl ; and though slavery, persecution, and even death await thee, thou wilt be happy hereafter; but forsake Him who died for thee, and shame here and future re- tribution will be thy portion. Yes, Victorine, the portion of the apostate is everlasting woe. God will, I trust, preserve thy honour; but thou art too young and fair for the barbarous land, whither thou art carried a slave. Still, dear Victorine, I feel assured that thou wilt not forget thy Saviour ; but this child is yet in infancy, and when I reflect upon what he may become, I confess I would ra- ther hold him dead in my arms than see him a renegade slave.^ "I could not speak; the idea of being separated from my mother had never entered my mind; the thought agonized me, I threw myself ppon her bosom, and burst into a flood of tears. My bro- ther caught up her last words. "'Am I really a slave, mamma?' asked he, ' and will these wicked Turks carry me away from you, and put chains on me? Why, what will papa do to them when he finds it out? What will he 18 say when he hears what has become of us? And will they take me and Victorine from you?' " This innocent prattle overpowered my mother, she caught us both in her arms, and shed over us those tears affectionate parents only pour over their oflPspring, 'My children, oh! my children,' she murmured, 'what will become of you and your father; oh ! who shall tell him of our fate!' These complaints were the first and last I ever heard her utter. ' Thy will, O Lord, not mine, be done,' was the prayer tht^t rose instantly to her lips, so completely did faith enable her to gain the victory over the infirmities and tender weaknesses of human nature. This agony of maternal soli- tude quickly subsided; calmer, holier feelings succeeded. She submitted herself wholly to the decrees of God. *' Towards the evening of the third day, the furious gale rose to such a tremendous height; that no hope remained that the ship could weather the tempest. Our captors chewed opium, and re- signed themselves to their fate. Thev struck off the irons from the limbs of their prisoners, and intrusted the navigation of the labouring vessel to them once more. We were moved into the stern cabin, for what reason I could never deter- mine. 19 "I was so much distressed by sea sickness, that I was ohliged to keep my bed ; my ))rother was no less aifected than myself. My mother, I see her yet, as, with the warning voice of an angel, she cried to her terrified household, ' Watch and pray; for ye kno^v not the day nor the hour when the Son of Man cometh/ As she knelt down, the terrified females clinging to her garments, the men prostrate in the humblest attitudes of devo- tion, she prayed aloud in the behalf of those present, with a fervency that seemed almost like inspiratioii. All appeared to feel that they were about to enter another world, upon whose portals they were kneeling. A cry so wild, so despairing, here broke in upon us, and then a shock, a violent, tremendous shock, followed, — the ship had struck upon the rocks. Springing from my cot, and seizing my brother, we rushed to mamma, who folded us tightly to her bosom; her arms were wound around us, I heard her say, ' Even so come. Lord Jesus!' Those words were her last. The iihip parted in two, and the whole stern sunk; the water poured in, and divided me from my beloved parent for ever.'' Madame de T . here became much agitated, ^ and it was some minutt.* before she could resume her narrative; nor were her young auditors less c 20 affected than herself. Indeed, how could it be otherwise ? the tale was true, and their venerable ancestor the victim of these almost unprecedented calamities. " Even at this distance of time, my children," continued the Countess, " I cannot recall the re- membrance of that fatal night, without extreme pain. The rushing in of the strangling waters deprived me of sensation; of what immediately followed, I have no recollection. It seems that a gentleman attached to our suite was on that part of the vessel which was thrown high upon the rock. He distinguished something floating near him, and supposing, by the white garments, that it was a female, endeavoured to save me. He succeeded, though not without emperUling his own life. Poor gentleman ! he lost it a few minutes after, in trying to swim ashore. " This is the history of my wonderful preserv- ation, which I learned, some hours after, from the faithful Jaques, who, fortunately for me, was one of the seven survivors on the rock. When I recovered consciousness, I found myself in the steward^s arms, my only raiment my night-dress, my slippers still on my feet, my head uncovered, and my long ringlets hanging over his arm, wet and dishevelled, as represented in the painting. t 21 Cold, hungry, wet, half naked, and sick with grief, I passed that dreadful night in successive fainting fits. It was only at intervals I had my recollec- tion, and then I wished to die. I murmured, I fretted against that awful Providence who had appointed me to these trials, " The steward chid this rebellious spirit ; he reminded me of my sainted mother's patience, of her faithful acquiescence to the decrees of the Almighty. I wept till I could weep no longer, but I dared not now repine. My mother's ex- ample spake to me, even from the grave. " The long-wished-for, yet dreaded morning, came, bringing with it fresh misfortunes. We were within sight of Algiers, one of the finest cities in the world for appearance, as we viewed it from the water. The shipwrecked Turks made signals of distress, and awaited the expected aid from the shore, with far different feelings than the unhappy Christians, who looked forward to no- thing but chains. The party on the rock con- sisted of four Turks, one of whom was the com- mander of the corsair, and three natives of France, the steward, myself, and Fanchette, my own maid. Several boats approached us from the shore, the foremost of v/hich seized all the prisoners; the I ;' 22 others began to plunder the wreck, but all left the Turks to shift as they could. " The wild, savage-looking people into whose hands I had fallen, called themselves Cabayles, or revolted Moors; they resided in the lofty moun- tains of Cuoco, under the government of their own Sheik ; and, safe amidst those wild crags and cliffs, resolutely maintained their own independence, in defiance of the Dey, and the whole power of Al- giers. The Sheik, or chief, of these wild hordes, exercised the authority of a barbaric king over them. That is, he led them to battle, and pro- vided for the exigencies of the horde or tribe ; but over their savage actions he had no control. The high priest, or Marabout, as he was called, was their lawgiver, but he was obliged to wink at the infringement of his laws ; and as they impli- citly followed his superstitious tenets, he did not care how much ill-will they showed to each other, or attempt to ameliorate their cruelty to their miserable captives. " As soon as we reached the shore, the person who appeared to be the leader of the party, took me from the steward, and pulled off one of my slippers, in token that I was now his slave. Jaques made signs to him to treat me kindly; and ga- thering up a double-handful of pebbles from the 23 I beach, repeatedly pointing to me, intending to convey to my master some idea of the great ran- som he might obtain for me. My captor nodded in return, and seeing that I required food, gave me some bread, some dates, and a bottle of water. He then restored me my shoe, and we commenced our march towards the mountains. " For some time, our route lay along the sea- beach, which was strewn with the mournful me- morials of the wreck. In an agony of grief, I examined the lifeless features of the dead, expect* ing to behold the dear loved remains of my mother and brother. Many a well-known familiar face met my view, but not those I sought for. My preserver lay cold and lifeless there; and how sorely did I long to throw myself down beside him, and give up the life he had prolonged, which seemed, at this bitter moment, an intolerable burden. On my uncovered head the burning rays of the noon-day sun shone with unmitigated fierceness ; my feet were blistered, my spirit was overwhelmed, fearfulness and trembling came upon me. The steward saw the fatigue and anguish I endured ; he took me up in his arms ; he comforted, he consoled me; he spoke of my father, and bade me try to live for him. The good man wept over me; he was suffering hun- c3 (. 24 4 I J ger, thirst, and toiJ ; but in tender sympathy for me, he evidently forgot his own misery. Excel- lent man. how do I love and venerate thee ! how dear is thy memory to me still ! My eyes, long dimmed with weeping, could then scarcely distin- guish even near objects ; well was it for me, that they did not behold the cruel sight that must have met them, but for the precaution my kind friend took. " At a distance from the other victims o£ the last fatal night, lay my beloved mother and bro- , ther. Her arms were wound round him, his head was nestled in her bosom ; death had not divided them j the flower and the bud were frozen toge- ther, in the icy clasp of death. The separation she had dreaded, had not taken place, — the lamb of Christ's fold was gathered unto the Great Shepherd, together with his Christian parent. A shriek from Fanchette, a yell of eagerness and triumph from the savage Moors, raised my feeble energies ; I tried to raise my head to discover the cause of these outcries; but the steward passed his hands firmly over my eyes, and saved me from the horror of that sight. How could I have seen the rings torn from those lovely hands, that beautiful face rudelv examined, those insensible remains insulted and defaced, and lived or retained my ; » ■» 25 r reason ! Happy spirit ! what were these outrages to thee ? Thyself and thy child were then with God, singing the song of the redeemed, and re- joicing in His light, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning/' The countess was again dreadfully agitated ; for a few moments her feelings appeared to overpower her ; but she soon collected herself, and resumed her narrative. " I did not learn these particulars till some days afterwards, when they were told me by Fanchette, who disguised nothing from me, but told her tale with a frightful minuteness that harrowed me to the soul. It was only in the first days of my journey, that I bitterly lamented the death of my sainted parent and cherub brother. Alas ! the barbarous usage I endured in slavery, soon made me remember, with gratitude, that they were spared the miseries T underwent. " We at length turned our backs upon the sea, and began to ascend the rugged heights that led to the mountains, whither our master intended us to sojourn for a time. His own home" lay at a large town, called Bujeyer, where he finally in- tended to sell us, if he could not obtain a suffici- ent ransom for our persons. The sheik to whose care he meant to intrust us, was a covetous, unci- I I 26 vilized barbarian, who no sooner saw us, than he picked a quarrel with my master, and laying hold upon me, insisted that the booty he had got from the wreck, was more than his share, and that the prisoners should be for him. The enraged Moor swore that I was a Spaniard of high rank, and that, rather than give me up, he would cut off my head. He drew his sabre, and catching me by my long hair, would certainly have put his threat into execution, if the faithful steward had not seized his arm, and made signs that by so doing he would lose my ransom. The incensed Moor dropped the weapon, and finding that the party of the shiek was far more numerous than that he commanded, collected his goods and followers, and took the way to his native city, leaving us in hands far more barbarous and uncivilized than his own. " For six days we pursued our toilsome way, till the steward told me we were near our future home. Home ! the slave has no home ; but this sad truth I had yet to learn from the bitter teach- ing of experience. Worn with incessant toil, I pined for rest, and almost participated in the joy that lighted up the savage countenances of the sheik and his followers. " With the name of woman, every thing tender I i ; h •■Mm -?rc ''■ 27 and endearing was combined. They had chil- dren, and could feel for one thus early deprived of a mother's care, a mother's love; I did not know that a debasing^ slavery and intolerant re- ligion deprived the female savage of every softer feeling, leaving her little of her sex but a fierce kind of maternity. Yes, dear Adeline, it is to the Christian religion we owe all our attractive qualities, all our privileges; wherever the gospel is not preached, woman is an abject slave, often as wicked as she is helpless. But to resume my tale : Fanchette, no less sanguine than myself, comforted me with the prospect of obtaining rest and refresh- ment. Poor girl, she paid me the same attention now I was a fellow slave with herself, as formerly when I had a right to command her services. The steward's information was quite correct, ( he had it from an Italian renegade slave belonging to the sheik,) and towards evening we entered the hamlet, where our new master's family dwelt. " The whole population, headed by his wife and children, came out to meet him with songs of joy and triumph, and to mock the Christian captives he had brought with him. The women, from whom I had hoped to find some compassion, loaded us with insults and abuse; they set their great dogs upon us, and laughed at the agony of 1 ;» Vv 'I 28 terror Fanchette and I were in when these mon- strous beasts fastened upon us^ and made us feel their fangs. The name of Christian seemed to extinguish every spark of pity in their flinty bo- soms. They pointed to their large fires, with ges- tures that showed them to be desirous of putting us to a cruel death. Indeed, these women seemed to hold the female sex in contempt, for they con- fined their malice to Fanchette and me, contenting themselves with spitting in the steward's face, calling him hard names, and throwing him some bones to pick, thus reducing him to the level of their dogs. They pinched, and harrassed us so cruelly, that we were ready to die with fatigue and terror. " The steward, who saw my great distress, pointed it out to our new master, who put a stop to the cruel sport, by commanding the principal instiga- tor, his own wife, Gulbeyaz, to conduct me to her residence, and to give me something to eat. "This haughty woman, who was handsome, and rather majestic in her person, gathered her gar- ments tightly round her, as fearing some contami- nation from my touch, and made signs to me to follow her to her dwelling. She pointed to a mat in a remote corner, in which I sat down, and taking some raw parsnips from a basket, flung me mm •.. m- 'A fc a ; 35 Among the Mahometans, the insane are held in great reverence, and all their sayings are considered as oricular ; for which reason, this creature (who, I believe, was mad from wickedness) was suffered to be at large. While roaming abroad, she per- ceived me lying on the bosom of Fanchette ; and, catching me by my long curls, was about to strike off my head, when my cries brought the steward to my assistance, who shook the vile old woman violently, siezed her hatchet, and drove her away. "Thus through his courage, promptitude, and fidehty, was I a second time preserved from de- capitation. I could not help weeping while I directed Fanchette to cut off my hair close to my head, with the steward^ s knife, for how proud had my dear mother been of these fine golden ringlets, which she loved to dress herself ! and how often had my dear lost Adolphe sportively threaded them, and even kissed them with infantine affec- tion. Now, to retain them, was to risk my life, since they had afforded a secure hold to two assas- sins within a tew days. Yet I childishly wept when I saw them lying on the ground, and felt as Tf I could no longer identify myself without them. "I promised the steward that I would endea- vour to perform the tasks allotted to me, for hope i m 36 again waved her golden pinions round my head. The consul would receive my letter, and I should he free. The assembling of the sheikhs house- hold was destined to renew my grifef. The sight of my close-cropped head enraged the barbarian, who struck me several hard blows; for the fe- males, among the Moors, account their long hair as their greatest ornament, and the loss of mine would greatly diminish my value, were he inclined to sell me* The women mocked me, and the children hooted me, Gulbeyaz contented herself with holding up a bright tin mirror, which she wore suspended to her girdle, with an air of quiet malice, which vexed me more than the taunts and laughter of the rest. "I had been considered .one of the loveliest girls in France, and was by no means unconscious of my personal charms. The sight of my own reflection in Gulbeyaz's mirror, was sufficient to cure me of vanity for ever. It was no longer Victorine De Bourke I saw, but a young creature as black as a gipsey, with naked feet and legs, a man's waistcoat fastened round her waist, no hat, and bright golden hair clipped, or rather notched round her face, and large blue eyes staring out of a famished, affrighted countenance. Yet so re- diculous was my appearance, that I actually i .. iWiHiftilllifM'li - i 37 I. laughed ; perhaps the remembrance of what I was, and what I had been, excited this unnatural resi- bility ; but there was no pleasure in my mirth. I forgot to tell you that my upper garment was fur- nished by the steward; it was fastened with a hemp cord, because the sheik had taken a fancy to the buttons. "Guibeyaz was so charmed with my mor- tification, that she gave me some bread and milk for breakfast, and sent me, with Fanchette and a male slave, to draw water, I conscientiously endea- voured to keep my word, so solemnly pledged to Jacques; but the fatigue was dreadful, and my face and hands were terribly blistered by the sun ; I had no bonnet, and now doubly regretted my long hair, which had hitherto defended my neck and face from the heat. Faint and exhausted, I sunk down by the side of a palm tree, that grew near the fountain. Here the steward found me, and taking his handkerchief off his neck, tied it round my head : he gave me some berries which he had found, that were edible, told me that the renegado had dispatched oi^r letter to the con- sul, congratulating me on the prospect of speedy deliverance, and bidding me be of good comfort, Surely, my dear children, this man was like a se- cond father to me. , «■ . ' Jmf.Hmi/. ~i>>0miW?iitmiim'mm(')iWtia>^>^y'^'. 38 « In the evening, we were employed in milking the goats. Fanchette, who could milk, undertook to teach me We secretly drank some of the milk, when Gulbeyaz^s back was towards us, and felt all the better for our repast. As the kids had only that day been taken off two of her best milch goats, our mistress did not suspect us, but thought the creatures held up their milk from affection to their young. Fanchette, who was a farmer's daughter, was, however, too well versed in rural affairs for this to happen with her. We began to recruit our strength a little, for if we had not lived upon our wits, we should have been literally starved. The worst part of slavery is the dis- honesty and immorality it occasions. Necessity made me steal, but I had too much fear of God before my eyes to lie, Fanchette was less scrupu- lous. Ours was a hard lot while together, but, alas ! mine was soon rendered more bitter by a separation from these faithful servants, who had helil by me in my evil days as in my happier ones. " The arrival of a strange merchant, with coffee, spices, shawls, silks, opium, and pipes deprived me of these worthy creatures. Gulbcyaz took a fancy to a superb shawl, and, with the permission of the sheik, exchanged Fanchette and the steward for / I 39 fi this piece of finery. We had been, now, two months in these mountains, and had acquired a smattering of the barbarous Moresco these peo- ple spoke, and but too soon understood the nature of this cruel bargain. For the two individuals principally concerned, any change was for the better. The merchant looked mild, and intelli- gent, and more like a civiUzed being than any thing I had yet seen in Africa. But, for me, their departure was a calamity bitterer than death. I forgot all differences between our rank, while I hung weeping round their necks, in an agony of despair. The steward wept over me, and blessed me; he gave me his ink-horn and account book, (which I put in my bosom,) charging me to keep sending letters to the French consul, till I received an answer; telling me to confide in the Italian renegade, who would keep sending them to Algiers by persons travellinf thither. He exhorted me to be patient and tractable, and to endeavour to gain the friendship of the wild people with whom I was a slave. 'I have not been ill-treated, my dear child, because I have lent my shoulder to the wheel, and, forgetting my former conditirii, looked before me, instead of behind. — This, dear and be- loved daughter of my sainted mistress, you must do, if you wish for kind treatment. Even in this D 3 40 wilderness of woe, God will be with you, as He was with Joseph in all his afflictions. Cleave fast to your Saviour, without wavering; and, fol- lowing His example and commands, 'pray for them that persecute you, and bless them that curse you, and despitefuUy use you;' so shall you become a child of God, and inheritor of that king- dom where there is no slavery, no tears, no se- paration from those we love/ "To these words I made no reply but these words, * I shall be left alone — alone, with savage Pagans,' wringing my hands, and clinging fast to those humble but faithful friends, whom I be- lieved I should never behold more. ; - "The steward solemnly blessed me, and again entreated me to be comforted, but my choking grief prevented me from hearing his last words, or taking a last look at him and poor Fanchette. . - " Suddenly, a strange ringing sounded in my ears : a mist came over my sight. I lost all sen- sation, even that of sorrow ; and when I recovered consciousness, they were gone, and I was alone. " I cannot describe my feelings. I mechanically obeyed those about me, ate the course food they gave me, without appetite, drank without thirst, and moved about without any aim, excepting the impulse given me by those who were in au- 41 thority over me. I ceased to pray. I was sinking into a state of apathy, almost of idiotcv when I was accosted one day by the renegade, through whose means I had hoped to regain my liberty. He told me that he feared the letter he had en- trusted to a fellow slave had miscarried, and advised me to write another. The sound of my own language, for he spoke to me in very broken French, roused me from the stupor of despair into which I had sunk. I wept, I acknowledged my ingratitude in forgetting that God, who still cared for me, and thanking my fellow slave, re- solved to write to the consul that very day. No opportunity occurred till the family of the sheik were buried in repose. I usually slept on a mat near Fatme's bed, and the rest of the shiek^s pro- geny occupied the same apartment ; a thin parti- tition divided us from that occupied by my master and the ever-watchful Gulbeyaz, attentive to the least murmur uttered by her young. • "At midnight, I crept from my mat, and taking out my writing materials, aided by the light of the moon, commenced my task. The narrative of my misfortunes took some considerable time to indite. I had not been used to letter writing, and actually took more pains to make my hand look neat, than the necessities of the case required, so that it took ■I, , .,' Unfortunately for me, this youth took a liking !8M*B 56 older than my foster brother, who was a child of great beauty and still greater promise. Leoni Manfredonia was indeed a bold, frank, generous creature, the darling of his father's vassals, who dehghted to witness his infant daring, and loved iiis sunny temper. " ' The Conte himself was an austere man, much feared, but little beloved. His young son en- grossed all his affection, he had neither friendship nor liking for any other living thing. On the death of the Duca, the guardianship of his nephew devolved upon him; and the weekly constitution, and, perhaps, feeble character of the little Duca, inspired him with hopes of succeeding to the ter- ritories and titles of Manfredonia. As it was, he ruled, or rather reigned, in the castle, in the name of the young Amadeo; and some thought that the boy would find it no easy matter to get his in- heritance out of his uncle's hands. "'Nothing could be more unlike our master's son than the Duca, and yet the love Leoni Man- fredonia bore him was strong as death; and as the Duca was regarded with coldness and aversion by his uncle, and treated with little respect by the very menials who ate his bread, his heart clave to his generous cousin. Leoni, indeed, was the column that sheltered and protected his feeble >. um* m': ^ 57 branches. I, who had the honour to serve my foster brother^ can testify to the truth of his affec- tion. " ' The born vassals of the young Duca took no interest in their young lord. Leoni was their favourite, and many openly expressed their hopes that the handsome high- spirited son of Conte Bernardo Manfredonia might become their head. The object of these rash wishes was the only per- son who did not share the general feehng. It was sweet to him to extricate his cousin from those difficulties and dangers into which he had rashly plunged himself. There could be no rivalry be- tween them, for timid as Amadeo was, he always followed the lead of our young hero. He had, among many other fears, a great dread of the water, and his very first attempt at swimming had liked to have proved fatal to him. It was his heir who resolucily supported his exhausted frame, and, at the risk of his own life, brought him safe to shore. '''This brave feat pleased his father little, but the sickly constitution of his nephew received so severe a shock, that his ambitious hopes were more confirmed after this accident than before. If his nephew became imbecile, he could put him aside, and assume at once the title. I do not believe, at ~— .. J.'i..i'B*»JjjL^'**''* '" '" " 68 that time, that he had any intention of shedding his blood. The long indisposition of Amadeo left him lame and seemingly childish, for his age, and he spoke rarely, even to his cousin, before wit- nesses. Now, whether during his sickness some words had escaped from his attendants to arouse his suspicions, or that he had an instinctive fear of his uncle, I cannot say, but a trifling circumstance unveiled the ill-will the Conte bore to his innocent nephew. " * The boys occupied the same chamber, and as nothing is kept secret in the palazzi of the great, their discourse, on the eve of a great masquerade to be given by the Conte, was overheard by my mother, who you remember, Signora, was nurse to Leoni. " ' What character do you mean to take?' asked the Duca. " * I have not made up my mind; I want to sur- prise everybody.' " ' Suppose you play the Duca Monfredonia to- morrow night/ "'That would just do, — I shall then advance with a majestic air towards the company, and bid them welcome to my castle of Manfredonia.' " ' You would like^ then, to be Duca, always ? * 59 tc I 'No, only for one night. Wellj it is settled then, that you are to be Leoni; and I, Amadeo/ *' ' You forgot that I am lame/ " ' We will both limp, — both wear the same kind of dress and mask; and as we are the same height, the trick will pass off well. There will be two Ducas, and nobody will guess which is the right one.^ " ' Now, though this was said by Leoni Manfre- donia in the innocence of his heart, his cousin suddenly became silent, and, after a long pause, said — " ' There can be only one Duca of Manfredonia at a time. I wish you were that one, only then you must be a poor lame feeble boy that nobody loves or cares for.^ " ' Do I not love and care for thee, Carissimo ? ' " ' Your father does not — he wishes me dead, I know; but you, Leoni are kind, and once saved my hfe.' "'1 won^t play the Duca, then. "What ails thee, my Amadeo? thou art full of gloomy fancies. It was you who first proposed the character, and I thought you were in earnest, Duca.' " ' And so I am, Leoni. We will play the Duca together, but I hope you father will not be angry.' " ^Angry with me? oh, no, that would be strange. ,..--„»y ■■■I"! V f ^-'*-- t ill 60 He loves me as his life; lie never brought me home a step-mother/ " ' We are both motherless; but you are happier than I am, for I remember mine and all her love.' " * My nurse has been a mother to me, I have known no other; and Lorenzo and Marco are hke brothers to me; but thou art none, — thou art more my friend; and am I not mother and father and all and every thing to thee, Manfredonia?' " ' Yes, yes, Leoni.' "'The Ducats voice faltered, and my mother heard him sob and weep. She related this dis- course at home, and much we praised our noble foster brother. It was quite evident to us all that the young Duca feared his uncle. His stupidity was feigned to blind his guardian's eyes. '^ ' The day of the masquerade was a proud one to Count Bernardo Manfredonia, who welcomed his guests with as much ceremony as if the castle were his own, and its lawful master indeed sleep- ing with his fathers. "'As my mother waited on the company, and Lorenzo and I wore the Conte's liveries, we had the sight for nothing, and a brave one it was. It was as good as a buffo to see the bearing of Leoni Manfredonia as he advanced to receive the visitors, in his assumed character. The Conte's J '■■».v,X:.;sxt»''*i 61 "^ brow darkened, but only for a moment. The boy spoke in his own clear joyous voice, and the stern father knew its tones, and gazed on him till his eyes filled with tears of tenderness and pride, and no wonder, for Leoni behaved like a young prince; and when he did unmask, and was recognized by many of the company, there arose a general mur- mur of regret that he was not the person whose honours he had assumed. As if ashamed of re- ceiving these flattering compliments, the youth suddenly withdrew himself from that gay scene, nor would he re-enter the saloon till accompanied by the Duca, whom he led forward and presented by name to the most distinguished guests. Ama- deo was timid and retiring by nature, and he did not shine by his cousin's side, nor did Leoni appear less amiable when stripped of his imaginary tit]? Some, doubtless, accused him of sinister motives, and fancied this trick was a contrivance between him and his father. " ' Nothing, indeed, could have injured his cou- sin's interests more than the part he had played; yet it was done in singleness of heart, with no other view than amusement. The Conte was delighted, and vowed, in his own mind, to make his son heir of the titles and territories of Man- fredonia, by fraud or force, without delay. I Hi f W' 62 " ' He spoke of his nephew with pity, lamenting his deficiency of understanding in pathetic terms ; and so well was he seconded by some of his £ ^eat connection^ at court, that several eminent persoas came to Manfredonia, to examine into the reputed lunacy of its young lord. As the object of their visit was kept secret from the menials, I should never have guessed it, if my foster-brother had not disclosed it to me, himself. " ' He had been hunting, some leagues off, with his father, and returned fatigued and evidently out of spirits. Trouble was written on his open brow, in lines too legible to be concealed. I hastened to meet him, but he took no notice of me. I had never seen him so disturbed before. After some minutes passed in respectful silence, I ventured to remind him that his usual hour for dressing had already passed. He started, and mo- tioned me to follow him to his apartment. '''Marco Monti, I think, nay, I am certain that I can trust you,^ said he, as he threw him- self into a seat. I assured him of my fidelity. ' I place, this day, the honour of the house of Manfredonia in your keeping ; but we have been nurtured at the same breast — I feel that you will not betray me.^ There was a pause, — the noble young heart shrank from disclosing to a menial a 63 parent's meditated crime. He at length, said, but with effort, — ' Marco, my father means to defraud my cousin of his dukedom. These expected guests are sent expressly from the Neapolitan court, to ascertain if Amadeo be indeed as he has been reported by his uncle; and he, — yes, my father, wishes me to become a party in this ini- quitous design.' "^1 looked at my young lord, but he had covered his face f^ith his hands, I saw his father's conduct had cut him to the heart. " ^ Marco, among these prejudiced judges, is the cardinal Ossuna, a good man, who will not sanc- tion an oppressive measure against an orphan. I fear my cousin's timidity may give some counte- nance to the charge preferred against him. I would warn him, but how can I tell him that my father is about to rob him of his heritage ? Spare my shame, Monti, and make this black design known to him, without delay.' I promised, and was about to obey him, when he motioned me to stay, and drawing a paper from his bosom, said, ' My faithful Marco, it is my father's intention that I pronounce a Latin oration, to welcome his eminence, the Cardinal, to Manfredonia. Now, I mean to falter in the very commencement of this task. My cousin must prompt me ; in fact, I will J. I i;h«.^Sci:i, -^. s!^ !>. 1^ ' '.. ' „, 64 manage so that he goes through the whole speech ; and, if he seconds my plan, his dukedom is sec^ired to him for life.' ... ^"I expressed some doubts lest the young Duca's memory and voice should fail him in this arduous trial. " ' They must not, Monti. — Here is the oration ; tell him to get it by heart, and trust in God to bring him through this peril. Marco, bid him re- member that He is good, though meii are very wicked. Assure him of my lo ^e, aut the idea of dishonour is too dreadful for my mind to meet. My father^s love is worse to me than hatred, since, to raise me higher, he would not hesitate to shed innocent blood.^ The noble youth shed a flood of bitter tears. He hjved hi« father dearly, nor his cousin less; yet his inte- grity was dearer still. ' Go, Monte, and [)reparc for our voyage,' continued he; my foster-brother, Lorenzo's sea-bov's dress, will suit me well. I will retire early, and be on board with thee while my father believes me sleeping.' '^^I easily prevailed upon Lorenzo to let our young lord take his place^ charging him to kfi^^p the matter secret. He, who loved not rny father's sharp dealing with him, eagerly embra/;ed thiu opportunity of enjoying hLs liberty on s}jore. He moreover off'ered to go up to the castle; and change appai'el with liim in person. lyjr(:nx<) wjxs idle and frolicsonr;e, but «ihrewd and bold beyond hih vears. To Lim. iLi^ project only api>eared a joke ; '1 1 4 78 . yet he was determined to use all his wits to enable his noble foster-brother to outwit the Conte. *' ' I contrived to secrete myself on board the Santa Anna that evening; and so well did our plan succeed, that, by night-fall, I was joined by the counterfeit Lorenzo. About half-past one in the morning, the Count and his devoted nephew arrived. From their discourse it should seem that the Duca expected to nnd his cousin on deck. The Conte informed him that the master assured him that his son was soivod asleep in his cabin, and entreated him not to disturb his repose. " ' The young lord of Manfredonia had been roused from sleep by his uncle, who had told him * that the wind was fair for the voyage, and that his son was off already." Like a lamb, unconsci- ous of the coming slaughter, the devoted youth had obeyed. " ' He betrayed no surprise at the appearance of his cousin on deck a few minutes after the Santa Anna had set sail for Sardinia. The Conte started and turned deadly pale ; for the first time in his Hfe he looked sternly at his generous son. Leoni steadily regarded his father, and as the brilliant moon shone full upon their countenances, I saw that guilty man's eyes sink abashed beneath the unwonted scrutiny. Leoni then beckoned « t '9 le him aside : they went into the cabin, when it should seem that my young lord threw himself at his feet, and intreated him to give up his base design. Finding that his parent remained inex- orably silent, he declared his intention of partak- ing of every thing his cousin tasted, and of never losing sight of him for a single moment. They parted in displeasure, and when Leoni retired with his kinsman, his countenance was dejected, his air abstracted, and I never saw him smile again. " ^ The Santa Anna proceeded with her voyage, and, through the vigilance of Leoni Manfredonia, the dark purpose of the Conte yet lacked oppor- tunity. A sort of gloom pervaded the crew, the Conte was sullen and displeased, courteous in the extreme to his nephew, but cold and distant to his son. The Duca was oppressed with sea- sickness, and this disagreeable malady prevented him from being alive to anything but his own sufferings. "'Leoni was feverish, and harrassed alike in mind and body. He occupied the same bed with his cousin, but he dared not sleep. There was no bolt on the door of the cabin, and as it opened outwardly, no means of dv^ fence remained to its inhabitants. This he had remarked, and with his 80 II II |i faithful arms wrapped about his doomed comrade, watched the weary hours away. " ' The consequences of these vigils appeared in his heavy eyes and colourless cheek. The Conte guessed the cause, and determined to bring the tragedy to a close. He recommended a glass of lemonade to his nephew, as a specific for the effects of the sea voyage, from which lie was still suffer- ing. I brought in the beverage, which was al- ready prepared ; but before the Duca could taste it, Leoni snatched the cup, and put it to his own lips. The Conte sprang up and dashed it to the ground. "^The Duca seemed lost in astonishment; he looked at his uncle, and then at his cousin, as if requiring some explanation of their strange con- duct. "'Thou art grown of late a most uncorteous youth, Leoni,^ said the wily father; 'remember, thou wilt be sixteen, to-morrow, a manly age. If thou art thirsty, is there not drink enough, with- out snatching Amadeo's cup ?' " ' Nay, uncle, chide not my beloved cousin ; he is most dearly welcome to every thing that Ama- deo Manfredonia calls his own. In a few days, I shall number as many years as my Leoni. Would, indeed, that I possessed but half of his fine quali- v.^ 81 ties. Come, cheer thee, friend, thy father is not angry. Thou art strangely altered of late. — Surely, thou art not well.' " * Leoni strove to smile, but the effort was too much, he threw himself upon his cousin's neck, and wept. While this extraordinary scene was acting, I trembled from head to foot, for I saw that there had not been but an instant between the young Duca and destruction. I remembered, too, that I had received the cup from the hand of the Conte's servant. While pondering the matter over in my mind, the Conte bade me go, and I left my dear young lord still weeping in his cou- sin's arms. "^I did not see him again, till I came in to serve at supper, — he still looked veiy sad. " * Leoni, forgive me if I have grieved thee,' said the Conte; 'be of a better mind, and bury thy sullen mood in this glass. Come, pledge th}- father, my dear boy, whose only fault is too much love for thee. " ' My dear young lord gave his father a look full of reproachful tenderness, but bowed his head in token of assent. I poureu out the wine, and by the Conte's desire, filled the Duca's glass. He merely tasted it, but Leoni drank it off. Soon after, he complained of drowsiness, and retired to rest. ;1 82 If ^1 p> J' i 1 " ' While assisting him to undress, he took me on one side, and said in a low voice. ^ Marco, I am strangely drowsy, my very senses seem )>e- wildered, and I blush to tell thee that I fear* I have watched my poor cousin these several nights but I cannot shake off the inclination I feel for sleep. My father's late attempt con- vinces me that he will not hesitate to put Amadeo to death, even within my arms. Watch, dear Marco, at the cabin door; and waken me, if you hear the slightest noise. "'This was the last discourse my dear young lord ever addressed to me. He knelt doAvn with his cousin, and prayed, as was his wont, for some minutes before he went to bed. 1 ligated the night-lam he Lade me good night. I heard him say to thv^ Diica, 'Amadeo, do not go to sleep; watch and pruy, for I am ill and over-wearied. — Good night, my own sweet cousin. — May the good Lord receive our souls to mercy.' " ' These were solemn words, and, doubtless, the last he ever uttered, for I never heard the sound of that dear voice again. In an hour, I softly opened the door, but the kinsmen were both asleep. I left the door ajar, and soon after, lulled by the foaming of the waves and the soft low breathing of the cousins, fell into a doze. I was awakened 83 I ►e- ral on 011- deo lear you mug with &oine L tlie I him jleep ; led.— 5 good sss, the sound softly asleep. by the eathing rakened by the sound of approaching footsteps, when, re- mem lurin^^ my promise, I entered the cabin and dreA\ near the bed. Leoni was sleeping with his arms round the young Duca, whose pale cheek rested against his fevered crimson one. They looked a lovely pair. — I whispered in his ear, 'Awake, my dear lord, or the Duca will be mur- dered.' He opened his eyes, but there was no con- sciousness in their fixed gaze. I shook him vio- lently, and aroused the sleeper on his bosom. At this anxious moment, I heard the assassins at the door, and, overpowered with terror, crept beneath the bed. " ' Alas ! the object of this dark conspiracy ut- tered a few feeble murmurs, and then again fell fast asleep. " ' The Conte came stealthily in, followed by his own servant and my father. Alas ! that I should have to tell a parent's crime, but it was his hands that stifled the innocent victim of* an uncle's insa- tiable ambition. "'The murdered youth never felt his death, and, stranger still, the faithful breast that pillowed his head, seemed quite insensible to the momen- tary struggle. " ' Tis strange he sleeps so sound/ remarked my G f 4^ ^^^ o.. %^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I IS us us "^ lis, 2.5 III 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 J4 ^ 6" — ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ) ^ xP mgfmmm 84 guilty father, to his still more guilty lord, as they quitted the chamber of death together. " ^ The wine was drugged,' replied the new Duca Manfredonia, ' he will not awake till noon/ " * I was so bewildered, and overcome with hor- ror, ' that I know not whether sleep or insensi- bility stole over my faculties; but the morning light brought with it the remembrance of the horrid midnight scene. I crept from my hiding- place, to awake my young lord. I thought, as I softly drew back the drapery of the bed, of the agony the discovery would inflict upon him. He appeared still sleeping, — I spoke to him, I touched him, but there were neither breath nor voice,- -he was as lifeless as his murdered cousin. " ' My cries brought the assassins to the cabin. In another moment, the new Duca of Manfre- donia stood beside his dead.'' " ' The wine ! the wine was overdrugged,' cried my father, wringing his hands, 'and our sweet lord is dead.' " ' I have fallen into the pit that I have digged for my nephew,' groaned the Duca ; ' my punish- ment is just, but it is greater than I can bear.' He threw himself upon the body of his son, with a cry that froze my blood. " * The course of the Santa Anna was altered for ^ >) i 1 1 \\ } >^ ^ .85 r.. Manfredonia, and, on the second day, she anchored off the town. Her flag dropped, to intimate that death had visited her since she left the port. The Duca had not spoken since the fatal hour in which he found himself written childless. No one could account for the tragical event, but the assassins and myself, and we never told the tale. " ' It was beautiful, but sad, to see the last scions of that noble house lie in state, in the great hall of the castle. My young lord looked like an angel sleeping; and happy was it for that noble spirit, that it escaped before it knew the con- summation of a parent's guilt. Round the pale brow of the young Duca, the jewelled coronet of his princely line wis set. To him, that envied tiara had only proved a crown of thorns; to his successor, it was one of fire. ' • v " * The Duca saw, with dry eyes, the last of his line and name consigned to the sepulchre of his ances- tors j for no tears came to cool his burning brain. He died of frenzy, the following night, and his remains were placed between the victims of his cruel ambition. The fatal share he took in the' tragedy, was not suspected by his vassals. The death of my young lord secured his father's memory from reproach. 86 '"The lands of Manfredonia reverted to the crown^ the name and line were no more. " ' The remainder of my sad story, Signora, will seem of little moment, now that the ruin of the princely house I served, has been narrated. God visited my father's treachery ; for the first voyage he made in the Santa Anna, the reward of his crime, she was captured by an Algerine rover, and he, and all on board, were made slaves. Then he felt that his sin had followed him, and often would tell me, who shared his dolorous capllvity, that he could not rest, for that 'that pale-faced boy was ever before his eyes, sleeping or waking, forbidding him to slumber or forget.^ *' ' He died at last, and I and some other Italians who served on boaxd the gallics, contrived to sieze a boat, in order to escape these horrid shores. Alas ! our wild attempt only made us wear more cruel chains. We were wrecked, and fell into the hands of these savage hordes. The persecution I endured, subdued my patience ; I forsook, at least in ; outward seeming, my Lord and my God. You, who have been more faithful, pity and pray for me: I will serve you to the utmost of my power, and should you ever come forth from this house of bondage, remember the poor renegade.' " I could scarcely speak for weeping, while this ' 87 sad tale was told. I promised Marco Monti to ransom him, if ever I should be restored to my country; but of that I saw little hope at that time. He undertook to convey my letter to his comrade, who would give it to a slave belonging to a merchant of Bujeya. a city some leagues off, who might be able to forward it to the trench Consul at Algiers, through some person going thither. "Thus, my children, did I once more entrust the record of my woful captivity to the uncertain keeping of strangers, devoutly leaving the event to Providence, who orders and ever rules all things for the best. "I dared not build upon the slender prospect of my deliverance, but kept myself constantly em- ployed in my various duties; and was much in prayer. Slavery itself could not, now, disturb my peace. " Some ^ays afterwards, I was sitting under my favorite tree, with the baby in my arms, sur- rounded by the children of the Sheik, singing snatches of French ballads to amuse them, while tears filled my eyes at the recollection of my own far-off land, when a deep sigh from some one near me, occasioned me to look up, and I beheld the steward. My joy was speechless; I could only 88 bathe the hands of the good old man with tears, and bless God, from the very depth of my heart, for the unexpected mercy of this meeting. My venerable friend was as much affected as myself; it was some moments before either of us could speak. He was the first to break silence : he told me that the merchant who had purchased him of the Shiek, was exceedingly kind to him ; that poor Fanchette waited upon his wife, and was as comfortable as circumstances would permit ; and that he had accompanied his master hither, who had brought his merchandise from Bujeya, a city on the sea-coast, to dispose of it among the moun- taineers. He concluded his account of himself, by telling me that he had persuaded his master to purchase me from the Sheik, if that chief could be induced to part with me for a reasonable price. " A lively hope filled my bosom, at these words ; I wiped away my joyful tears, and began to tell my second father all the sorrows I had experienced since our separation, my sickness, my despair, the friendly disposition manifested towards me by the Sheik and his children, and Aladin's unfortu- nate regard for me. The love of such a rude, fierce being, seemed, to him, a greater misfortune than any thing that had yet happened to me. He entreated me, by no means to consent to such a 89 union^ which would not only make me a slave for life, but consign me to certain misery. " While we were yet talking, we both received a summons from the Sheik, to appear before the merchant. My master took off my veil, and greatly extolled my beauty ; — nay, more, he gave the merchant a list of many perfections I did not possess, and spoke of my docihty and obedience, as surpassing all my sex. This flattering descrip- tion of myself, might have made me vain, if I had not perceived it was only a prelude to asking a great price for me. The merchant was liberal in his offers, and the sight of a hundred pieces of eight, and some bales of goods worth as much more, was fast outweighing, in the Sheik's eyes, (whose master-passion was avarice,) his promise to his son, when that young barbarian suddenly rushed into the room, flung the merchand^ e on the ground, threw the gold in the dealer's face, and seizing me by the arm, claimed me as his own property in so authoritative a manner, that his father yielded up the bargain, and the merchant collecting his goods together in a hurry, departed in a great fright. "I was much mortified and disappointed, and could not forbear turning on the handsome young Musselman a look of great displeasure. 90 " * I shall not lose thee, my jewel, my rose, my pea^l,' cried he, still grasping my hands; 'no, I will kill thee, sooner than suffer my avaricious father to sell thee to another, who art my promised wife.' He tried to make me say I was as oveijoyed as himself; but, though I dared not own my aver- sion, I shed a flood of tears. Aladin perceived that these were not tears of joy, he threw me from him with violence, nor did he deign to speak to me again for a week. I began to think his love was turning to hatred ; but I did him wrong, he had as great a desire to make me his wife as ever. ^m;*-^.,,:. ^:^^,v ... ; ,..•• " Gulbeyaz took part with her son ; even Fatme, Christian though she was, naturally iuchned to her brother. The Sheik was persuaded I should make" him the best of all daughters-in-law, and a day was at length fixed for our espousals. "Small was the help I gave in the culinary operations that preceded the bridal. I sullenly wept while in my bridegroom's company, and prayed to God, when alone, to avert from me a doom I dreaded worse than death. "The evening before that appointed for my marriage, the great Marabout, attended by a large train of imans, a guard of soldiers, and two Euro- peans, made their appearance in the village. This f 91 personage demanded admittance to the Sheik^ and made known to him the Dey's commands to give up the captives wrecked in the Genoese Tartan, on his coast, without further delay. The Sheik laughed at the Dey's authority; but relented some- what when the Marabout, whom the Dey had gained over to his interest by large bribes, and larger promises, assured him that he ought to com- ply, as his Highness could enforce what he en- treated, and two priests of Jesus, who called themselves Redemption Fathers, were with him, who would give a noble ransom for these three captives, especially for the daughter of the French Ambassador. " " In fact, the last letter I addressed to the Consul, had reached him at Algiers. M. Dusault imme- diately obtained an audience of the Dey, and made him acquainted vrith the whole circum- stances of my capture. The Dey was alarmed, lest my detention should occasion a rupture be- tween him and the French court, and, though too fond of money to pay for our ransom, he' granted his letters and safe conduct to the Redemption Fathers, who had already agreed to redeem me and my attendants, at any cost, referring them to the great Marabout, (to whom he sent presents,) as the only person who had sufficient influence to 92 accomplish their undertaking with the head of the wild tribes of the Cabaylos, into whose hands the captives had fallen. "Although superstitiously inclined to yield to the persuasions of the Marabout, whom he es- teemed as a saint, and tempted by the large offers of the Holy Fathers, the disappointment and rage of his son, for once, outweighed every other con- sideration. The mention made by the Marabout, of my exalted birth, though intended to point out the unsuitableness of a match between me and his son, had a contrary effect upon my master's mind. He proudly reminded those present, 'that if I were even a king's daughter, his son was by no means unworthy of an alliance with me, as he was the heir of a mountain sovereign himself,' "This determination on the Sheik's part ap- peared inflexible, and even if the arguments of the Marabout, and the suggestions of avarice, had left him doubtful, the entrance of Aladin confirmed his resolution. *' The rage of this impetuous young man, when he learned the occasion of the deputation, was un- bounded; and if his father had listened to his anger, neither the safe conduct granted by the Dey, nor the protecting presence of the great Marabout would have defended the Redemption ■Fathers from the effects of his resentment. i I 93 "Although greatly grieved by the failure of their mission, these benevolent ecclesiastic*', would not leave me in the hands of infidels, without another effort to save me. They demanded to »cc and converse with me, alleging that they were the bearers of letters and presents to me from the French Consul, which they were charged to deliver into no hands but mine. " The Sheik, who considered me now as a part of his family, was determined not to lose these gifts by a churlish refusal, so he went to fetch me himself; and, to my utter astonishment, communi- cated to me the object of the deputation Lorn Algiers. " The hope of deliverance was so vivid, that it quite overpowered me; I trembled all over, and the Sheik finding I could not walk without his support, rather carried than led me into the pre- sence of the mission. I think, an assembly of persons more opposite in expression and appear- ance, never met under one roof. The Marabout stood telling his beads, with an air of consummate hypocrisy, casting, from time to time, stealthy looks round him, showing, that the world was busy in his heart, though prayer was on his lips. The ministers of Christ, who had devoted themselves to His service, bore the impress of their Divine ■^? 94 Master's peace on their countenances. Like their predecessors, the apostles, they had left all to follow Him. Their employment, in this heathen lane", jeing the redemption of poor Christian cap- tives from slavery, in whose behalf all their talents, their eloquence, and their prayers, were devoted. Directly facing the Holy Fathers, stood my affianced bridegroom, leaning on his hunting- spear, and glancing alternately upon them and the Marabout. ^ "Approaching the Christian priests, I knelt and solicited their blessing and their prayers. They solemnly laid their hands upon my head^ and bade me put all my trust in the mercy of the Highest. They delivered to me, then, the polite friendly letter of the Consul, and the handsome present of wearing apparel he had sent me. I recounted to these good men all I had suffered in captivity, and how the Lord had dealt with me in turning the heart of Fatme, and inclining her to pity me. The benevolent Fathers wept at my re- cital, and then communicated to me the Sheik's determination to espouse me to his son. "My buoyant feelings had never calculated upon the possibility of the Sheik's refusing to part with me. In an agony of grief, I threw my- self at the feet of the obdurate chief, I wept, — I . 95 implored his compassion in the most moving terms. The Redemption Fathers added the most liberal offers to my passionate entreaties. He was moved, — not by mv tears, but by the promise of nine hundred pieces of eight, proffered as the price of my liberty. He looked at Aladin, but that young barbarian maintained a sullen silence, poising his spear in his hand, ready to hurl at the first man who should attempt to take me from him. " The Marabout undertook the office of persuad- ing my affianced husband. He spoke plausibly enough on the value of money and the worthless- ness of women, the unhappiness of a divided house and unwilliug wife. — Nay, more, he said that the Prophet Mahomet had in a dream revealed his will to him that the female captive of the Sheik should be sent back to her own country, and that Aladin was to wed one of the daughters of the faithful. This lie, which was devoutly believed by the Shiek, was treated with the most unceremo- nious contempt by Aladin, who menaced the hoary hypocrite with his spear, and laughed scorn- fully, when he drew back trembling and affrighted from his youthful antagonist. " Seeing that all my chance of liberty depended upon Aladin, I quitted his father, came to him, 96 and^ prostrating myself at his feet^ supplicated him to have pity on me. He called me ' his wife, his princess/ and vowed he would kill me rather than part with me. ' Kill me, then, cruel Aladin,' said I; 'shorten my misery, for if you detain me any longer in slavery, I shall die of grief.' "Overcome by my emotions, I swooned away, Aladin raised me up in his arms, all pale and mo- tionless, — he believed that I was de^d. He rent his clothes, he bathed me with his tears, and ran with me to his mother Gulbeyaz's apartment, sending forth the most bitter cries. — Gulbeyaz believed me to be dying, added her voice to her son's; the noise they made brought Fatme and the whole household to my assistance, and I began to come to myself. I had sufl&cient command over my feelings, however, to appear still in a profound swoon; and the lamentations of the women brought the Sheik and the deputation to the spot where I lay. That avaricious chief bemoaned the loss of my ransom in termj so ludicrously pathetic, that I could hardly resist smiling. " Far different were the feelings of his son, he truly loved me, was touched by my grief, and agonized by my deathlike appearance. I felt his tears fall fast upon my hands, I heard him sob as if his heart would break. ' Oh ! Alia,' cried he. V.>il**- ■■'■■OBt'Tf"*' I 97 ' only restore this maid to life, and I vow to send her back to her own country, and take the daugh- ter of a believer to wife, since our union is dis- pleasing to thee. Yes, I swear it by the black stone of Mecca and the holy tomb of the Prophet/ " At these words I opened my eyes, feeling cer- tain that even this impetuous young man would never break an oath he deemed so sacred, i ladin took my hand, and pressing it to his lips, his fore- head, and his eyes, bade me ' farewell!' and rushed from the apartmeU. I never saw him from that moment, but his generous relinquishment of me has left an indelible impression upon my mind. !' Notwithstanding my ardent desire for liberty, I could not part with the Shiek's family without some feelings of regret. The children clung weeping round me, and I kissed, a thousand times, the dear little babe that I had tended from its birth. I distributed between Gulbeyaz and Fatme the chief part of the clothes the Consul had sent me, but nothing could calm the feelings of the latter, she clung round my neck, called me her sister, and entreated me to take her with me as my servant. " Most willingly would I have permitted her to accompany me, but that was impossible. I left with her the Bible out of which we had been used 98 to read, for Fatme had profited so well by my in-» structions that she could make out a chapter with- out much difficulty, to her great and endless com- fort, I hope. I bade this dear friend farewell with sorrow, because I knew that on earth, at least, I should ' behold her face no more/ " During my long pilgrimage in this world, often have I thought of her, trusting that, though surrounded by misbelievers, her life has been cheered, and her death-bed, perhaps, soothed by the hopes and faith of a Christian. " That evening I departed with the holy Fathers who obtained my freedom, and that of the faithful Monti and his renegade companion, for nine hun- dred pieces of eight. When we arrived at Bu- jeya, we sought out the house of Mahomet, the merchant, and had the happiness of redeeming the good steward and poor Fanchette. " Like the children of Israel returning from their captivity, ' we were like those that dream,' — so unexpected — so marvellous — was our deliver- ence. The joy of my second father was greater on my account than his own; with a loud voice he returned thanks to that Almighty Being who had wrought so mightily in our behalf, especially for my preservation. '' From Bujeya, after having been hospitably ^ith- tom- twell I, at from 99 entertained by Mahomet, we embarked for Algiers, and on the third day landed at that city. I was instantly conducted to the Consul's house, still wearing, at the request of the good Fathers, the garments of captivity. Monsieur Dusault him- self received me at the court of his habitation, which was crowded with Christians, Jews, Arme- nians, Moors, and even Turks, whom the story of my misfortunes and high rank had attracted there. The Consul took me by the hand, and led me into the chapel, where I prostrated myself before the altar, and publicly returned thanks for my redemp- tion from slavery. Mass was then said, and a Te Deum sung on this felicitous occasion. Mingled tears of joy and sorrow flowed from my eyes; at this moment, thoughts of home were blended with the recollections of the dead. My mother and brother rose before my mental eye: I was about to return to my native country, while they had found a grave in a strange land; but when, as with one voice, the congregation raised the lofty hymn of thanksgiving to the ' Lord God of Sabaoth' for my deliverance, every feeling that partook of the bitterness of this world was lost in unbounded rapture. " How sweet, in the ears of Christian slaves, sounded the praises of the Almighty! he .7 often , m ,aff..^k:sm«>3mssm 100 had we panted to enter the courts of the Lord's house, and join in the service of our God, with those that kept holyday during our bondage among the heathen ! "Yes, my children, we now bent before His altar in deep gratitude for His great mercies vouchsafed unto us. Even the infidels who en- tered with us were moved to tears, and said, ' The Lord hath done great things for them/ " After a few days sojourn in Algiers, we em- barked for France, and, after a dangerous passage, arrived at Marseilles in safety. My dear uncle, the Marquis de Varenne, hastened to meet me the instant I landed, having already received letters from the Consul, to apprise him of my coming. My father's family received me as one risen from the dead, having long believed me an inhabitant of a watery grave. My father's official capacity deprived him of the pleasure of seeing me for some years; and when the parent and child met, I was a happy wife and mother, surrounded by kind friends, and blessed with the tenderest of husbands.^' "And what became of the faithful steward?" eagerly demanded the young people. " Jaques lived to give you, Adeline, his patri- archal blessing; he died in my arms, having seen 101 more than a century, deeply lamented by his adopted daughter. " I have now faithfully narrated to you, my dear grand-children, the misfortunes that clouded the morning of my life. I have fully completed my eighty-third year, and daily expect ' to put off my frail tabernacle,' trusting that He who has never forsaken me in the time of my adversity, who has been with me in all the years of my prosperity, will yet guide me 'when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.' Equal trials may yet befal you, my beloved descendants; it is requisite, then, for you that you should arm yourself with faith, that, with me, you may be enabled to say, ' weeping may endure for a night, but joy Cometh in the morning.^ J i) DKAN AND SON, PUIM'KRS, TIlUKAUAKKUuK-STHliKT, LUNDON.