Then, with these words, returning to his former position, the Moor bowed his head in heaviness and despondency, and two tears flowed down his bronzed cheeks, as he said, with a heartrending expression: “And then, nothing more,--nothing more.” At the aspect of this man, already so unhappy, the good brother shuddered at the thought of what he must tell him; he was on the point of giving up the painful mission, but he took courage, and said; “I am very sorry that my brother was so absorbed this morning, because I know he did not mean to strike the overseer. But, alas, discipline demands that he must be punished for it.” “Pardon me, father, that I was not able to repress my first movement. Since my captivity, it was the first happy dream I have had. The blows of the whip tore me away from this cherished dream. I was furious, not with pain, but with sorrow. Besides, what matters it? I am a slave here; I will endure the punishment.” “But this punishment is cruel, my poor, unfortunate brother,--it is so cruel that I will not leave you during its execution; it is so cruel that I will be near you, and I will pray for you, and my loving hands at least shall clasp your hands contracted in agony.” The Moor looked at Father Elzear intently, then said, with an accent of resignation, almost of indifference: “Shall I have, then, to suffer so much?” The priest, without replying to him, pressed his hands more strongly in his own, and fixed his tearful eyes on his face. “Yet I did my duty as a slave, the best that I could possibly do. But what matters it!” said the Moor, sighing; “God will bless you, father, for not forsaking me. And when am I to suffer?” “To-day--presently--” “What must I do, good old father? Bear it, and bless God that he has sent you to me in this fatal moment.” “Poor creature!” cried Father Elzear, profoundly moved by this resignation, “you do not know, alas, what you will have to suffer!” And, with a trembling voice, the priest explained to him in a few words the nature of the suffering he was to endure. The Moor shuddered a little, and said: “At least, my wife and child will know nothing of it.” At this moment the captain of the mast and four soldiers, wearing cassocks of black felt with white crosses, approached the bench to which the Moor was chained. “Hugues,” said Father Elzear to the captain, “suspend the execution, I pray you, until I have spoken with my brother.” The discipline established on the galley was so severe, so absolute, that the gunner looked at the priest with an undecided air, but, thanks to the respect that Father Elzear inspired, he did not dare refuse his request. The father hastened to the chamber of the commander, in order to intercede with him for the unhappy Moor. After having crossed the narrow passage which conducted to his brother’s apartment, he saw the key of the door enveloped in crape.