At that expression, mortal pains seized Sebastian, his blood froze, cold damps stood on his forehead; Aziek, the beloved and generous Aziek, was a Mahometan, and in the other world they would never be re-united. Pierced with pious sorrow, he uttered a deep groan, his arms lost their strength, they slackened their hold, and the sea breaking over them, carried with it the last earthly blessing of Sebastian. The next moment the ship struck upon a steep coast; confusion, terror, despair, followed; the frantic King calling on Kara Aziek, ran, from side to side, yet hoping to find her he had lost. Some of the crew clung to the shattered wreck, others threw themselves into the sea on planks and spars; the women shrieking and invoking their prophet hung round Sebastian, his heart was wrung with pity, and regardless of his own situation, he exerted his small remains of strength to succour these unfortunates. A sort of raft, hastily constructed, offered the only means of safety; to that he committed them, while he sprang to the topmost part of the stern, madly striving to catch a broader view of the ocean amid the blazes of lightning. Aziek’s name, coupled with that of the awful God he implored to save her, were soon the sole human sounds heard mingling with the roaring elements; alone and hopeless, his eyes were still straining round, when another shock loosened every plank of the vessel, and scattered her in fragments upon the waters. Sebastian sunk; but his guardian angel yet watched over her charge, and he rose again: cold, motionless, spent with grief and fatigue, insensible to every thing, he was seized by his watchful dog who kept hold in defiance of the storm, and at last brought him safely to land. The chill morning air contributed to awaken Sebastian from that lethargy into which his senses had fallen; when he unclosed his eyes, they fixed upon Barémel, who lay shivering at his feet; he turned them from him to the objects around: nothing was to be seen beyond arid rocks, and a measureless ocean whose turbid waves sullenly heaved under a leaden sky. He gazed wistfully, for his thoughts were dim and imperfect, and memory seemed blotted out from his faculties; the confused idea of Kara Aziek, alone remained. He lay some time looking stedfastly before him, while his senses roused slowly; on a sudden a cry escaped him, he leaped up, and glanced round with a maniac’s wildness; the perfect recollection of his misfortune had shot through his brain, enlightening while it maddened him: he tried to articulate the name of her he lamented, but the sound expired on his lips, and smiting his breast, he sat down again upon the ground.