Day after day now lingered by, and as they passed they cast a deeper gloom over the prospects of Sebastian. The Count Lemos grew worse, and Sossa (naturally of a harsh temper, and devoted to Philip) prohibited the slightest mitigation of suffering to the unfortunate Sebastian. Not for himself did Sebastian grieve, but for her whose tender heart and delicate frame, were so ill suited to the rigours of their destiny. Yet alas! his grief was vain and powerless. Nearly two weeks had elapsed, when Stephano entered with a glad look, to communicate the news of Count Lemos’s disorder having taken a favourable turn; and to assure Sebastian that his friend the secretary (whose mediation had procured to Kara Aziek the liberty of sharing her husband’s fate) had promised to inform his master, of the peculiar severity with which the alleged Calabrian was treated. The secretary kept his promise. No sooner was Count Lemos in a situation to investigate business, than he granted Don Sebastian permission to appear before him, and for that purpose had him brought privately to his house. Neither time nor suffering could wholly deface the rare lineaments of him, who might once have stood forth the model of manly beauty. Lemos was not long of recognising in this interesting stranger the noble and heart-winning Sebastian: he looked at him with sorrow and surprize; and having questioned him on several matters known only to themselves, he acknowledged himself convinced. But the old nobleman was too well versed in the character of ambition, to hope that Philip’s persecution arose from a real belief of imposture: he justly thought that his august prisoner was secretly devoted to a lingering death, and thus trusted to his keeping, from the apprehension, that if brought either into Spain or Portugal, his escape would be productive of more immediate danger, or his death exasperate the people into a revolt. Lemos could only promise what he sincerely meant to perform, a strong testimonial to the truth of Sebastian, and a consequent remonstrance with his royal master: should that fail, he must content himself with watching over the life of his prisoner, and yielding him all the comforts within his power: to permit his escape, a nice sense of honor forbade. “Whatever be the trust reposed in me, Sire!” he said, “if I accept it, I am bound to hold it inviolate: and as my respect may sweeten your majesty’s hard destiny, to refuse the charge of your person would be only to deliver you up into the hands of a severer guardian.” Too grateful for any amelioration of his fate, since that of Kara Aziek was inseparable from it, Sebastian urged not a single argument against the opinion of Count Lemos: he bestowed a warm eulogium upon his justice and generosity, and accepted with gladness the offer he made him of future protection.