olded upon his breast, and
his head bent in meditation, his lips pressed together, and every muscle
in his face contracted with pain and labouring thought. Then, raising
his head and fixing his eyes on the Don, he says:

"If I understand aright, my Moll hath gone to give herself up for a
slave, in the place of her whose name she took."

The Don assents with a grave inclination of his head, and Dawson
continues:

"I ask your pardon for that injustice I did you in my passion; but now
that I am cool I cannot hold you blameless for what has befallen my poor
child, and I call upon you as a man of honour to repair the wrong you've
done me."

Again the Don bows very gravely, and then asks what we would have him
do.

"I ask you," says Dawson, "as we have no means for such an expedition,
to send me across the sea there to my Moll."

"I cannot ensure your return," says the Don, "and I warn you that once
in Barbary you may never leave it."

"I do not want to return if she is there; nay," adds he, "if I may move
them to any mercy, they shall do what they will with this body of mine,
so that they suffer my child to be free."

The Don turns to Sidi, and tells him what Dawson has offered to do;
whereupon the Moor lays his finger across his lips, then his hand on
Dawson's breast, and afterwards upon his own, with a reverence, to show
his respect. And so he and the Don fall to discussing the feasibility of
this project (as I discovered by picking up a word here and there); and,
this ended, the Don turns to Dawson, and tells him there is no vessel to
convey him at present, wherefore he must of force wait patiently till
one comes in from Barbary.

"But," says he, "we may expect one in a few days, and rest you assured
that your wish shall be gratified if it be possible."

We went down, Dawson and I, to the sea that afternoon; and, sitting on
the shore at that point where we had formerly embarked aboard the
Algerine galley, we scanned the waters for a sail that might be coming
hither, and Dawson with the eagerness of one who looked to escape from
slavery rather than one seeking it.

As we sat watching the sea, he fell a-regretting he had no especial gift
of nature, by which he might more readily purchase Moll's freedom of her
captors.

"However," says he, "if I can show 'em the use of chairs and benches,
for lack of which they are now compelled, as we see, to squat on mats
and benches, I may do pretty well with Turks of the