Having indulged his emotion, he arose, and returned to find Prince Abbas: they met seeking each other.--Abbas abashed at sight of a man to whom he owed so much, and whom he had used so violently, stopped, drew back, and averting his head with a look of shame, timidly stretched out his arms: the generous Sebastian sprung forward and strained him to his breast; that embrace supplied the place of speech. They remained silent for some time; at length preventing the faltering voice of the young Sophi, Sebastian exclaimed, “we part here, my friend, for awhile--you doubtless hasten to re-animate Ispahan--I fly to secure her, without whom I am nothing.--When thou seest her Abbas!--thou wilt confess--but no--it is her soul thou shouldst see, to make a love like mine lose its seeming madness.” The Sophi answered by ordering his troops to follow at the command of Sebastian; he would not pain his noble friend by obstinately recurring to those thanks he wished to wave, but he grasped his hand while speaking, with an agitation of eye and limb, which left no doubt of his gratitude. The army then arranged themselves in the order of march, with their prisoners and their spoil, and headed by their new sovereign, took the road to Ispahan. Sebastian selected a small band in case of resistance, and crossed the country to the fortress of Ebhn Sait. As he ascended the steep heights leading to this interesting place, his heart alternately rushed forward and receded: how much did he still fear! for how much he loved! The oriental architecture of the building, and the romantic scenery amongst which it stood, rendered its appearance rather beautiful than threatening: a few pieces of Turkish ordnance mounted the walls; these however were deserted; and as Sebastian approached, he beheld the gates open and the courts unguarded.--His hopes withered at once; he halted an instant, then recovering himself, gave some brief orders in case of being allured by a stratagem; he then led part of his troops into the interior. No one was visible; they penetrated the passages and the chambers; all were abandoned.--Struck with grief and dismay Sebastian pronounced in a sorrowful tone the name of Kara Aziek; that well-known voice was answered by a cry of joy: a door hitherto unseen, flew open, and the object of all his hopes and fears springing from a couch on which she had been sleeping, flew towards him, and threw herself into his arms. His animated air, the dress of the soldiers by whom he was surrounded, the very manner with which he held and embraced her, assured her that he came as a conqueror and a deliverer: her spirit had been long racked with various alarms; the dreadful scenes of war, and the more terrifying contests with the Basha’s rude passion, had completely subdued her, and she was no longer mistress of herself when she felt freedom and happiness on the breast of him she loved.