The Constant Prince

by Mrs. Molesworth

It was a gold cross setwith jewels, and Fernando recognised it at once.

  "You are Catalina Northberry," he exclaimed, and at the sound of thename so long unheard, the slave girl burst into tears.

  "Oh, I had forgotten--I had forgotten," she cried. "But after theflower feast I heard the king tell how the Prince of Portugal was nowhis slave. And I can remember the fountain, and my lord Dom Fernando,who gave us the crosses, and Nella--Nella--a little girl like me."

  "It is true, Senorita," said Fernando; "long have they wept for you."

  "Hush! I am called. I will speak again with you," cried Catalina,running away hastily, while Fernando hurried back, lest his absenceshould be found out, rejoicing at the discovery; for surely he couldmanage that some intimation might reach Lisbon of Catalina's existence.Certainly if deliverance ever came for himself and his friends she mightbe included in it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  NEWS FROM HOME.

  "And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds."

  The days passed on until October. Fernando saw no more of Catalina,though he still laboured in her neighbourhood; and no incidents brokehis life of toil, till one day the Portuguese were sent for to thepresence of the prime minister. It was part of the humiliation laidupon him that he was now and then, forced to appear in the midst of thesplendid court in his slave's dress, his hands stained with toil andfettered, as they always were, except when actually engaged in working.But spite of all this, and though his stiff limbs moved slowly andfeebly, there was no air of embarrassment, no consciousness ofdegradation. He walked up the great hall, and looked Lazurac firmly inthe face, bowing to him with the courtesy of a superior, neithershrinking nor defiant.

  Lazurac burst out in sudden accents of fury.

  "Now, slave," he cried; "now you are wholly in our power. What is toprevent us from flaying you alive, beating you to death, in revenge forthe perfidy of your countrymen? And now no fleets will sail to deliveryou; we need fear no more from the vengeance of Portugal."

  "And why?" said Fernando, as soon as Lazurac paused.

  The Moor came and stood over him, his dark face convulsed with rage, astrange contrast, with his splendid dress and infuriated aspect, to hisprisoner, whose clear calm eyes were raised to his without fear orfalter.

  "Because the king, your brother, has died while shilly-shallying overhis intentions of freeing you. Here is the news of his death, and noword of keeping the treaty. Ha! I have moved you now!"

  For Fernando staggered, and would have fallen but for Lazurac's roughgrasp.

  "My brother--my brother!" was all he could utter.

  "Ay, there is a letter for you also; but the news is enough for you,rest content."

  "I pray you give me the letter?" said Fernando, faintly.

  Lazurac laughed scornfully.

  "Have you no mercy--no pity?" cried Fernando. "Offer me any insult youwill, but _give_ me the letter?"

  It was the first time his calm dignity had been moved to intreaty oranger; but now he flashed out suddenly--

  "You do not dare to withhold it from me? Nay, nay, I would not angeryou; only give me the letter?"

  Lazurac drew out the letter, with Enrique's writing above the greatblack seal on the cover, and held it before his eyes.

  "Kneel to me then; kneel to your master, and beg him of his favour togrant you your boon."

  Fernando drew himself up for a moment, while the other Portuguese rushedforward and threw themselves on their knees.

  "Give us the letter," they cried; "but spare this insult to our prince."

  "Rise, friends," said Fernando, who had regained his self-control. "Theshame lies not with me; and to my Master I kneel;" and he knelt, and fora moment raised his eyes to Heaven.

  Lazurac flung him the letter, with a sense of gratified spite andhatred, and the prisoners were suffered to withdraw. What mattered thescene that had passed to Fernando; what mattered insult and hardship,compared to the sorrow and anguish of heart of reading of the belovedbrother's illness and death! Tears such as all his suffering had neverwrong from him flowed fast as he read, and for the first time he wasunable to comfort and support his followers, who all knew that a muchblacker cloud had fallen on them, and that their chances of deliverancewere lessened by this blow.

  "My son," said Father Jose, tenderly, "our beloved king suffered muchgrief and anxiety. We may think of him now in the rest of Paradise."

  "Grief and anxiety which I helped to cause," sighed Fernando."Doubtless it is well; but now, submission is hard."

  And when the prince was thus cast down, the spirits of the whole partyfailed utterly, and one after another fell into disgrace with theirtyrants, and suffered accordingly. At last, after a second night oftears and anguish, Fernando regained the mastery over himself, andbefore they started on their day of toil he called his friends aroundhim, and thus spoke--

  "My friends, I think we must put hope away. It was my dear brother'searnest wish to free us by ransom, by force, or even by the yielding ofthe Christian city, for which, for my part, I think our poor lives werea bad exchange. But what he could not do, our bereaved country in itshour of trial will fail to accomplish. So pardon me my share in yoursorrows, my rashness first, and now that I cannot bring myself to begour freedom at the price they ask. Could I but bear it all--could I butmake in our own land such a home and rest as you deserve! But thereremaineth a rest for us all, where my brother is gone before. So let uspray, my friends, that the will of the Lord may be perfectly fulfilledin us; let us in utter submission find peace at last. For there is anend to our trial, and a home from which we shall not be shut out."

  And so Fernando wholly, and the others as far as they might, gave up therestless hope of freedom, and set themselves to bear the suffering ofeach day as it passed, not looking to the morrow. And so there came tothem in the midst of their toiling, driven lives, some still andpeaceful moments, some inward consolations that carried them through.

  Their lives were very monotonous, chiefly varied by the sickness of oneor other, often of Fernando himself, which held them solitary prisonersin the miserable, airless lodging where they dwelt, or by a differentoverlooker at their toil, or a change in the part of the gardens wherethey pursued it. Now and then, too, they saw their old friend theMajorcan merchant, who brought them little comforts; on which occasionsFernando's appetite was often found to fail, and he would beg some otherto take his share.

  They had very little opportunity of intercourse with the other slaves,by whom a chance word or look from Fernando was highly valued; but sincethe Moors were not all fiends incarnate, Fernando's faultless life andready performance of all that was allotted to him won him some favourfrom his masters, and with some of them a little courteous intercourse.Their lot, with its toil, squalor, and hardship, was bad indeed, butendurable when not made worse by wilful cruelties.

  Soon after the news of the king's death, Fernando and Manoel, alone oftheir party, were digging out the ground for some new fountains in theladies' garden. Their overseer was a certain Hassan, the mildest of hisrace, and he was superintending the other prisoners at a littledistance, sitting cross-legged on a bank, smoking his hookah.

  Princess Zarah and her maidens were seated at some distance, watchingthe alterations. Manoel worked slowly, and paused often for breath.

  "Rest, now," said the prince, "there is nothing to do here but what Ican finish easily."

  "I would gladly save your highness from doing one stroke of it," saidManoel, wearily; "but sometimes I think, sir, my sorrows are nearlyover."

  "If so, dear lad," said Fernando, with a smile, "the rest of us mightenvy you; sorely, as I, at least, should miss your face."

  "But for you, my lord, I could not have held out so long," said Manoel,as, weak and faint, he sank down on the ground. The prince raised himin his arms, and looked round for help.

  "Princess! princess!" said Leila, who was stringing beads for hermistress, "one of
the slaves is fainting."

  "It was very stupid of Hassan not to send men who can do their work. Heshould whip them when they are idle," said Zarah, indolently.

  "Oh, princess! let me take him water; he will die!" cried Leila.

  "If you like," said Zarah, putting a sweetmeat between her lips.

  Leila seized a jar of water, and some fruit and bread, and came towardsthe prisoners. She looked frightened and shy; but held out the jar ofwater to Fernando, who bathed Manoel's face with it.

  "He does not revive," said the girl.

  "Yes! his eyes open!--Manoel, dear friend!"

  But as Fernando looked in his face, he saw that the last hour was come,and Father Jose far away on the other side of the