It was to eyes blinded and ears deafened by intent attention to one precious object, that all the frivolous pomp of Mahometan ceremony was now directed: Sebastian endured it, but he could not bring his mind to observe and investigate its absurdities. Tefza with grief beheld him enter the mosque, apparently look at, and listen to all that passed, yet never once did an air of abstraction quit his features, nor would he for an instant join in the slightest appearance of worship. The third day closed; his probation was at an end. As they returned together from evening prayers to their lodgings near the city, profound silence subsisted between them; but there was no silence in their hearts: Tefza’s intreating eyes spoke only too audibly, as they perpetually turned and fixed themselves upon the face of Sebastian. The regards of the King were cast down; his head was inclined, his step slow; but this downcast look, this regulated pace, the burning glow that increased every moment upon his cheek, plainly developed the struggles of a man, the expression of whose gladness, decency and gratitude united to control. Tefza could with difficulty restrain his tears; when he entered his lodgings they burst forth: he turned abruptly round, and throwing himself upon the neck of Sebastian, exclaimed in a broken voice:-- “You will leave me then, my Son?--my desolate old age--my love for thee--will nothing plead?” Interrupted by sobs he proceeded no further. This affecting resignation, this mild remonstrance, this fidelity to the promise given at Riffa, melted Sebastian; he ran his eyes eagerly over the amiable figure of the old man: his grey hairs and gentle countenance, the supplicating look with which he regarded him, pierced him with regret. “Alas! my father,” he cried, falling at his feet, “I leave you with a sorrow which my conduct may seem to contradict:--O may you one day know my heart! may all whom I loved, or who have served me in Africa, know the imperious destiny that has controled my actions! I am not what I appear, Tefza: that God whom we equally adore, ordained me to a far different lot from that to which you have seen me condemned; I must endeavour to regain it. I leave you only for the fulfilment of duties, and in the hope of obtaining happiness. Ah! Why has fate thrown me amongst so many excellent persons whom I can never hope to behold again!” “And am I never to see thee again, my son!” cried Tefza; as he spoke, the blood forsook his cheeks, and he sunk down overpowered with affliction: Sebastian prest his lips upon that trembling hand in agitated silence. The Hadgé wept audibly: “O Fabian!” he cried at last, “my sand is nearly run, might I but hope to meet thee in another existence, that hope alone”--