I sailed with prosperous gales, and arrived safely at my own country. My ventures were disposed of: I realised a large sum of money, had completed all my arrangements, and in a few days intended to return to Cadiz, to fulfil my engagement with Rosina. I was in the metropolis, impatiently waiting for the remainder of the freight to be put on board of the vessel in which I had taken my passage, when, one evening, as I was sauntering in the Park, anticipating the bliss of rejoining the object of my affection, I was rudely pushed aside by a personage richly attired, who was escorting two of the ladies of the court. Fired at the insult, and, as usual, acting upon the first impulse, I struck him in the face, and drew my sword--forgetting, at the time that I was in the precincts of the Palace. I was seized and imprisoned: my offence was capital; my adversary a relation of the king's. I offered a large sum for my release; but when they found out that I was wealthy, they rejected, as I increased, my offers, until I was compelled to sacrifice one half of my worldly possessions to escape from the severity of the Star Chamber. But the loss of property was nothing; I had still more than enough: it was the dreadful length of my confinement, during which anxiety had swelled hours into days, and days into months of torture and suspense. I had been incarcerated more than a year before I could obtain my release. When in my imagination I conjured up Rosina lamenting my infidelity, reproaching me in her solitude for my broken vows, and (there was madness in the very thought) yielding in her resentment and her grief to the solicitations of her parents, and taking the veil,--I was frantic; I tore my hair, beat the walls of my prison, raved for liberty, and offered to surrender up every shilling that I possessed. * * * * * "By the beard of the prophet, this tires me," exclaimed the pacha. "Murakhas, you are dismissed." The Greek slave bowed and retired. Chapter VIII The next morning the pacha observed to Mustapha, "I have been thinking whether, as we have no story, it would not be as well to let the Greek finish the story of yesterday evening." "True, O pacha," replied Mustapha, "better is hard fare than no food--if we cannot indulge in the pillau, we must content ourselves with boiled rice." "It is well said, Mustapha, so let him proceed." The Greek slave was then ordered in, and re-commenced as follows:-- * * * * * Freedom was obtained at last; I flew to the sea-coast, chartered a small vessel, and chiding the winds as we scudded along, because they would not blow with a force equal to my impetuous desires, arrived at Cadiz. It was late in the evening when I disembarked and repaired to the convent; so exhausted was I by contending hopes and fears, that it was with difficulty I could support my own weight. I tottered to the wicket, and demanded my Rosina.