“O, dervise!” exclaimed Sebastian, bursting into an agony of grief, “every living soul in the Christian army were to me like fathers and brothers. My countrymen, my brave countrymen! when you marched on so gallantly, could I have foreseen that I was leading you to----,” he stopped, then suddenly actuated by one of his rash impulses, abruptly added--“Abensallah, you see before you, Sebastian of Portugal.” The dervise prostrated himself at his feet, “Young monarch, I bow to the lord’s anointed! thy misfortunes are thy security. Let the conduct of Abensallah teach thee hereafter to believe that there may be charity among mussulmen.” Inexpressibly affected, the King motioned for him to rise, “Abensallah,” he said, squeezing his hand between both his, “Africa has already taught me a lesson I shall never forget: but I did not wage war against your prince from a false notion that he ruled over miscreants. I was actuated by zeal for that religion which, by limiting the prerogative of kings and the obedience of subjects, bestows equal blessings upon both. I would have conquered Africa to have freed her people from tyrannical rulers and tyrannical errors, to have afforded them opportunities of understanding our holy faith; not to have established a new despotism, and swayed with the iron mace of persecution--these ardent hopes are over; you see me here a fugitive, but with God’s leave, a King still.” As Sebastian spoke the last words, a noble imperiousness sat on his youthful brow, his heart swelled with it, but quickly sunk again at recollection of his companions in arms. Anxious to learn the fate of Stukeley, he besought the dervise to assist him in ascertaining whether he were dead, or captive; by searching the field of battle he hoped to arrive at some certainty. Abensallah in vain remonstrated against this hazardous enterprize, but no arguments availed with the still imprudent Sebastian; he was therefore reluctantly induced to propose their going on the night of the ensuing day, when all the Moors would be engaged in the celebration of one of their feasts, and the Portuguese monarch might perhaps pass unnoticed in the dress of a servant. During the remainder of the day, Sebastian carefully attended to all the prescriptions of the dervise, he went soon to rest, and at break of day rose to breathe the air in safety at the mouth of the cave. But two short days before, how differently had the king of Portugal beheld morning dawn!--then at the head of a gallant army, surrounded by zealous friends, strong in youth, health, and hope: now, a solitary fugitive, like some desolate wretch escaped from ship-wreck or an earth-quake, sunk in despondency, and reduced to infantine feebleness.