[1] Founded on fact. CHAPTER II. Darkness and silence crept through the prison-house of Tangiers. Darkness, which spread terror through the heart of many a poor, helpless criminal; silence, that fell with heavy, crushing weight on the convicts who knew that when on the morrow that stillness was broken, and the city should be roused again, they would be led forth to die the felon’s shameful death, in presence of the jeering multitude. In a cell separate from the rest, slept one who had on the morning of that day awakened in freedom, the joy and comfort of her old father’s home. Rude hands had forced her to this dreary place, and left her as a criminal, secured by bolts and bars. And she _slept_. Yes, though she knew the rigor with which punishment was visited on the transgressor, guilty of the sin laid to her charge. Yes, though her old father were alone in their beautiful home; yes, though the damp, cold stones were all the couch spread beneath her dainty form! Look upon the youthful captive as she slumbers so peacefully. There are traces of tears upon her cheeks, though her lip wears a gay smile. Then she _had_ wept before she slept? Ay, for thoughts of the sorrow and fear which she knew harassed the beloved ones at home, troubled her; but now she smiled, for the good spirits reigning in dream-land, had assured her of a future full of bliss. How beautiful is Myrrah in her sleep. The large and languid eyes which fascinated the gazer as they turned upon him, are hid, and you will not therefore be dazzled as you look on the clear and beautiful olive complexion, the sweetness of expression, and the regularity of the features; the delicate bloom of the round cheek; the heavy mass of black and shining hair; the slight, girlish form, these, and the unmistakable evidences of youth, would increase the interest of a stranger, and make us, who have aforetime made her acquaintance, gaze with an increase of sorrow on the young creature who is accused of a crime punishable with death. The malice of a bitter enemy had brought the Jewess to that doleful situation. Orien Fez, the rich son of a rich Mahommedan, had persecuted her with the most unwelcome attentions, despite the contempt in which her people were held by his own. He would fain make her his wife, for his love was so strong as to overcome all prejudice, and in a land far distant from their own, he would have joyed to convince her happiness would await them. In that blessed clime her God should be the only object of his worship; he would suffer himself to be despised of all men, if she would in return only bless him with the assurance of her love.