At sight of a new victim, this man came forward; “Here, Ben Tarab,” cried Ephra, “our illustrious master has sent you this refractory Christian to teach obedience; give him work, and see that he does not attempt to escape: if you do not present him to the great El Hader when next he calls for him, your head will answer it.” Ben Tarab bowed submissively, and Ephra left the court. Sebastian’s eyes meanwhile were anxiously employed in scrutinizing the persons around him: they were Christians of all nations, some very old, others in the tender spring of life; but blood-drinking care, and flesh-consuming toil had left their traces on the youngest cheeks: every countenance was wan, every figure emaciated. Amongst the various groups, he sought in vain for his cousin Antonio, or Don Emanuel de Castro; none but strange faces met his gaze, and as no one recognized him, he rightly concluded that none of his own army were amongst them. Sebastian wished not for partners in affliction; and though anxiety led him to seek for Crato and de Castro, he was gladdened by not finding them under the task-masters of El Hader. Ben Tarab soon assigned him a portion of labour: too much occupied with reflections on the miserable lot of others, to think any longer of his own, Sebastian performed his task mechanically, while viewing the scene before him.--In one quarter were groups of captives employed in stamping, with heavy weights, the damp earth with which the Moors form the walls of their inferior buildings; others were labouring to prepare this earth out of various materials; others again bringing sand, bricks, and lime, in loaded baskets upon their heads; while some were hewing stone, sawing wood, melting lead, or moulding ornaments for the nobler parts of the Cassavee. Fainting with heat, toil, and thirst, these unhappy people were yet urged to their tasks with imprecations and blows; neither age nor infirmities pleaded for a moment’s indulgence: they toiled on, consumed by scorching suns, and unrefreshed by a single breeze. The sighs and groans of the Christians pierced the heart of Sebastian; he heard them with anguish, for he was no longer that Sebastian whose nod could give liberty; a slave now, he had nothing to bestow but inward prayers for himself and for them. Perceiving his new workman totally ignorant of labour, Ben Tarab roughly told him to observe how others did, and so learn the trade of them.--“What, I suppose you have been what Christian dogs call a gentleman, and therefore are good for nothing:--I have always ten times the trouble with gentlemen; they are either insolent, lazy, or stupid, and are only fit to do the work of horses or asses; one poor fellow is worth a thousand of you.--We never promote gentlemen here, so you may reckon soon upon being sent into the open country to draw the water-waggons, or dig for lime.--Why the plague am I to be troubled with you?--could not you have been kept amongst the household pack?”