These constant interviews only tended to fix Sebastian more firmly in the heart of the gentle Moor; she felt that they did so, but with an excess of generosity refused to purchase peace for herself, by the sacrifice of his enjoyments: her society was evidently his chief solace, and to her unremitting attention he owed every personal comfort; could she then afflict him by sudden or gradual coldness, by long absences, and assumed indifference? Sebastian knew her only as his friend, and to that disinterested character she was resolved never to lose a claim. Consonant to this resolution, she accustomed herself to talk with him of Donna Gonsalva, yet at his lover-like description of her rival’s enchantments, she could not controul those tumultuous feelings, of which a love so hopeless and so powerful was but too susceptible. “Happy, happy creature!” she would often exclaim to herself, “could I believe that _thou_ lovest him, that _any one_ can love him as I do, what should I lament? but who has seen him like Kara Aziek, a prisoner and a slave, alternately the object of terror and admiration, interesting even in his moments of wildest passion, who therefore will ever learn to forget herself and the whole world in him? Alas! how shall I live, when he who is become the very soul of my life, is far from me.” From that painful question Kara Aziek always turned without delay, striving to be indeed as indifferent as she believed herself, to her own happiness: love, ingenious at deceit, fondly persuaded her that in sighing after the bliss of being united to Sebastian she was actuated solely by this idea, that no one’s affection could equal hers, consequently that no one would ever watch so attentively over his conduct and his comfort. The King himself, hurried away by an earnest desire for her conversion, no longer saw or thought of her attachment, but dwelt with grateful enthusiasm upon the joy she might bestow on him, would she yield her heart to the doctrines of the church, renounce her infidel country, and consent to become like a sister to his adored Gonsalva. At length he found that no arguments of his availed to convince her of the fallacy of her own religion, she had many specious ones to urge in its defence, but still more to urge against papal Christianity; sorrowing and reluctant therefore, he relinquished his attempt. Sebastian now counted the days as they passed, welcoming each on its arrival, as the day of freedom: Gaspar had been absent above a month; Kara Aziek had learned at the Moorish court that the Prior of Crato was alive and in Lisbon, therefore the King; reckoned still more confidently upon his release: time, however, wore away; days, weeks, months elapsed; as they fled, still they bore with them some health and spirit from Sebastian; the excuses he mentally made for his people’s delay and hesitation hourly decayed, apprehension and indignation took their place.