tillat last the more compassionate Hassan pointed out to them the dungeonwhere he was imprisoned, and showed them a grating through which it waspossible, not indeed to see him in the darkness, but to hear him speak,and then they heard his, "Ah, dear friends, this is joy indeed. You arestill free to move; and well, I trust, and patient?"
"But you, my son, my dear son," cried Father Jose, for onceinconsiderate, as he pushed aside Dom Francisco and pressed his face tothe grating, "have you food and tendance?"
"My father, I think I have not much more to suffer; I think I have neveryet been grateful enough for the love that has been with me all theseyears. To-morrow you will come again?"
For trial had not changed the loving, clinging nature; it was the sameFernando who, long years ago, had wept at the thought of life withoutthe beloved Enrique, who now, while he uttered no murmur and patientlyendured this last, worst suffering, felt that the loss of his dearcompanions would kill him.
"Our Blessed Saviour was forsaken by His friends, while I am butseparated from mine," he thought, and rays of comfort stole into hissoul; but he was very ill, and growing weaker every day, and his heart,though never rebellious, was very faint. Yet every day he had acheerful word for his visitors, rejoicing in their comparative freedom,while to them the moment at the grating was the one point in the wholeday.
At last one day his door was opened, and two figures entered instead ofone, and in a moment Father Jose knelt beside him.
"My son, I am here," he said, in a trembling voice--
And Fernando answered--
"My father, oh my father, pray for me, for my spirit fails me. I amunworthy, weak and unworthy still!"
"Well, my dear son, our good Lord knows your weakness, for He has sentme to be with you to the end."
He raised Fernando in his arms, shocked and grieved at the change sincethey had parted, at his wasted frame, and face burning with fever;while, wretched as had been the food, air, and accommodation of theirformer lodging, they were comfortable compared to what he found in thisdark and dismal place.
But Fernando looked up with the old sweet smile.
"See," he said, sadly, "how my faithlessness is rebuked. I feared todie alone, not trusting in my Saviour, and He sends my best earthlyfriend to be with me."
The sufferings of those weeks of loneliness had evidently been mostsevere, for the fever that had attacked him frequently confused hissenses and peopled the lonely dungeon with frightful visitants while hewas troubled by a sense of the failure of the trust and faith that hadhitherto supported him.
But the good priest's care lessened somewhat his physical sufferings,and his prayers and words of comfort brought back once more hope andpeace, and at intervals Fernando had much to say.
"When I think," he said, "of what have been the trials of the saints, Ifeel how little I have had to bear. Never have I been without suchloving service as is given to few. Our very jailers have been lessharsh than they might be; some, even, have been kind. Our poorfellow-slaves have made me happy by saying that my words lightened theirburden, and, though with no choice of mine, my presence here has savedCeuta to the Church: and this as a reward for the rash folly that wouldchoose my own way of service. And now, when my poor weak spirit failed.I have the blessing of your presence. Our Lord is very merciful; forsuch trials as I have read of, I think, would have been more than Icould bear."
"God's grace, my son, is strong enough always to support our weakness,"said Father Jose, unable to help believing that there was at least asmuch saintliness in this humility as in the stern fortitude of astronger nature.
"Yes," said Fernando, "that is my one comfort for those I leave behind.My poor companions! in their love they will grieve for me. You, father,must be their support, as you are mine."
"My son, they will remember your constancy," said Father Jose, "and--and--give thanks for your deliverance."
"I would I could see them once more, to bid them take courage."
And when it was indeed certain that the captive prince was dying, thisfavour was granted, and his fellow-prisoners were admitted for one lastfarewell, their bitter grief hushed, their anger stilled, by thewonderful peace on his wasted face and the light in his shining eyes.
"My Lord is indeed with me, and has given me the victory," he said. "In_this_ way, at least, will freedom come to us all."
And then, with much effort, as each knelt beside him, he spoke a word ofthe peculiar trials of each, knowing how one shrank from insultingwords, another dreaded bodily hardship, a third pined especially forhome: commending them all to Father Jose's care; and when he saw thatthe worst trial for all was grief at his loss, he said, simply, that thelife seemed to have been taken from him with the loss of his dearbrothers; but he had found a Better Friend still, and so would they.And so, with aching hearts, they left him; and, after a night ofrestless pain and fever, a great quiet fell on him, till, towardsevening, as the end drew near, he lay--
"In calmest quiet, waiting his release. `Lord, now Thou lettest me depart in peace,' Were the last words which he was heard to say. Upon his left side turning, as the day Slow sinking now with more than usual pride, Streamed through the prison bars a glory deep and wide.
"When the last flush had faded from the west, When the last streak of golden light was gone, They looked, but he had entered on his rest; He, too, his haven of repose had won; - Leaving this truth to be gainsaid by none, That what the scroll upon his shield did say, That well his life had proved--_le bien me plait_."
So died, on the 5th of June, 1443, Fernando of Avis, the ConstantPrince--"So good a man," said the young king of Fez, "that it is a pityhe was not a true Moslem."
And a tall tower was erected over his grave as a monument to hispatience and to the triumph of the Moors over his countrymen.
Years went by, and at last the few poor survivors of that little band,Father Jose among them, were ransomed and released; but the body ofFernando still rested in an infidel grave.
His brother Joao was killed in battle. Pedro fell in a civil war, aftera life which, spite of some errors, had, on the whole, been noble,conscientious, and loyal; and the only survivor of the five lovingbrothers was Enrique, the great navigator, the first of the discoverersof the modern world. The young Alonzo, Duarte's son, grew up into abrave and prosperous sovereign, and, in another war with Fez andMorocco, took captive two sons of the king of Fez. Long before this thememory of the captive Fernando was reverenced as that of a saint and amartyr by the men whose lukewarmness and indifference had caused hisdeath; and now the only ransom demanded for the Moorish princes was thebody that, for thirty years, had been in the hands of his enemies.
And so, in 1473, Enrique sailed once more for Ceuta, and there receivedfrom the hands of the Moors the body of the beloved brother of hisyouth, which, with solemn funeral services, was shortly laid in theAbbey of Batalha, where Enrique has rested beside him for many a longyear, while Christian services of prayer and praise have risen from thecity of Ceuta, over which the Crescent has never been lifted again.
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