ies, they would treble their former offer, and promise one hundred
and fifty thousand doubloons and one hundred and fifty captives. This
the vizier agreed to accept, and when they heard the news the prisoners
fell on each other's necks and wept for joy. But for Fernando the hour
of happiness was soon at an end, for till the ransom was paid and the
captives landed on Moorish soil his treatment was worse than ever.

The dungeon into which he was now thrown was smaller and darker than
before, and even his gaoler was forbidden to speak to him. The
loneliness and silence put the finishing touch to the alternate hopes
and fears of the last few months, and one day, when the warder brought
his scanty supply of food, he found the prince lying unconscious on the
ground. Fearing the anger of Lazuraque should his prisoner escape him by
death before the money was received, he at once reported the matter, and
orders were given to remove the captive into a larger cell, where he
could feel the soft winds blowing and even see a ray of the sun. His
companions, who were once more working hard, with the least possible
allowance of sleep, were permitted to see him, and to carry him books
of prayer, as he had been deprived of his own. Greatest boon of all, he
was given a lamp by which he could read them.

[Illustration: He found the prince lying unconscious on the ground.]

Outside of his cell there was a sand-pit, in which some of the
Portuguese came to dig sand every morning to scatter over the floor of
the stables after they had been cleaned out. A tiny glimmer of light in
this part of the wall showed dom Fernando that a stone was loose, and
might with a little patience be moved away. It was hard work for one so
weak; still, it gave him something to do and to look forward to, and
prevented him, sitting all day in his prison, from wondering why no
answer to his letter had ever come, and if his brothers had forgotten
him altogether, little knowing that out of mere spite Lazuraque had kept
back everything they had written. When these thoughts came into his head
he worked away at the stone harder than ever, to deaden the pain which
was almost too bad to bear. At last one day his efforts were rewarded,
and he was able to take the stone in and out and speak to his
fellow-captives, who, with sun and air about them, were more fortunate
than he.

Perhaps he may have heard from them (for outside a gaol news flies
quickly) that ever since Duarte'