The gentleman spoke in Italian, which was evidently his native tongue. His address was too courteous for Kara Aziek to persist in an appearance of incivility; she turned round, and pronounced with hesitation, the permission he sought. Sebastian remained as if in thought, with his face to the windows; the stranger sat down: he continued to converse with his fair companion, who listened attentively, since he talked of the event which occupied her thoughts. He spoke eloquently of the atrocious crimes that had disgraced the life of Philip, and hazarded several acute conjectures upon the changes which his death would produce in the cabinets of Europe. In particular, he described one of the tyrant’s most insolent acts to the republic of Venice, and anathematized his iniquitous treatment of Portugal. At this part of his harangue, Sebastian unconsciously turned round, and fixed an earnest look on the speaker; the latter started, stretched eagerly forward, betrayed signs of doubt and surprize, and for a moment was silent; but he resumed his discourse, on seeing that Sebastian precipitately moved away. While the Italian continued to speak, he watched every movement of Sebastian: his countenance rapidly expressed the succession of thoughts which this observation excited; suddenly rising he came directly in front of the person he scrutinized. At this action an indignant flush crimsoned Sebastian’s features; his look became severe; and the proud majesty with which he stepped back from the advance of his observer, made the latter pause. “I mean not to offend, Sir!” said the stranger, respectfully inclining his head, “Gracious Virgin! can it be possible; I know not what to--I dream surely!--so many years!--if I am right in my suspicion, my knee should follow the homage of my mind.” Sebastian saw that he was discovered, but resolving to retain concealment as long as possible, he gravely replied, “your manners surprise me, sir! I am unconscious of ever having seen you before.”