HITHERTO light airs and cheering suns had accompanied them on their voyage, but now the weather changed; thick clouds arose, volume after volume, from the horizon, till the whole heavens were darkened; a hollow wind muttered among these threatening clouds, and the turbid sea seemed to labour with an approaching storm.
It was on the sixteenth day of their voyage that the tempest burst forth. A tremendous gale from the south-west began to blow, accompanied with lightning and hail; the ship drove before the blast, her rigging all torn, and the waves washing over her deck: every peal of thunder was followed by ghastly yelling of shrill winds, a thousand times more dreary than thunder. The rattling of hail and rain among her cordage, the flapping of her wet sails, the creaking of her masts, the confused sound of voices and feet, as the sailors hurried to and fro along the deck, the tremendous roaring of the sea, all struck terror to Kara Aziek; she sat trembling in her cabin, listening to every sound, and sensible to hope only when she saw Sebastian.
Aware of their danger, (for the ship was driving rapidly towards a lee shore,) the King’s anxiety discovered itself in his pale and disturbed countenance; he presented himself perpetually at the door of Aziek’s cabin, as if to see that he had her still, and as often hurried away again to assist in the labours of the seamen.
Whenever he appeared the devoted Aziek felt her terrors disperse; it seemed impossible to her that Heaven should abandon him she loved, to a dreadful death. Her women, drowned in tears, on their knees, and half distracted, mingled shrieks with their prayers and lamentations; the soft soul of their mistress became a coward for their sakes, and she wept more for their apprehensions than from her own.
In the midst of this awful suspense a crash was heard, the next moment Sebastian entered; his wild look and hurried step transfixed Kara Aziek; for the first time she believed that they were about to perish together: without speaking, he snatched her up and bore her in his arms to the deck; she found he trembled violently: Yes Aziek, but it was for thee he trembled,—that great soul knew no other fear!
Merciful Heaven! what a sight presented itself! the vessel, with her masts swept by the board was lying a mere hull upon mountainous waves; through the blackness of midnight, by repeated sheets of lightning the whole ocean was momentarily discovered, dark, raging, covered with horrid foam,—now swelling to the clouds, now sinking as if into the depths of perdition.
Imprecations, vows, prayers, and cries, mingled with the dreadful roar of the winds and waters; sometimes the storm made a pause, and then was heard distinctly the noise of the ship, as she drove furiously towards the rocks: but again the blast and thunder would unite, till heaven and earth seemed rocking with the sound.
As the tempest had swept away their boat, and they were driving upon the perilous coasts of Tarradunt and Suz, every soul on board gave himself up to destruction. It was at this moment that Sebastian yielded to despair: he pressed Kara Aziek in his arms with convulsive strength, while he repeated wildly, “You perish Aziek! and my love cannot save you.”
“I perish on thy bosom—in thy heart!” she said faintly, fixing on him her asking eyes, swimming in grief and bliss.
“Yes, in my heart, Aziek!” he exclaimed vehemently, “I call God to witness at this awful moment, that you only share my thoughts with Him!”
Aziek raised her speaking eyes to Heaven with a look of ineffable emotion—“O grant,” she cried, “divine prophet, that we may live together in thy paradise!”
At that expression, mortal pains seized Sebastian, his blood froze, cold damps stood on his forehead; Aziek, the beloved and generous Aziek, was a Mahometan, and in the other world they would never be re-united. Pierced with pious sorrow, he uttered a deep groan, his arms lost their strength, they slackened their hold, and the sea breaking over them, carried with it the last earthly blessing of Sebastian.
The next moment the ship struck upon a steep coast; confusion, terror, despair, followed; the frantic King calling on Kara Aziek, ran, from side to side, yet hoping to find her he had lost. Some of the crew clung to the shattered wreck, others threw themselves into the sea on planks and spars; the women shrieking and invoking their prophet hung round Sebastian, his heart was wrung with pity, and regardless of his own situation, he exerted his small remains of strength to succour these unfortunates.
A sort of raft, hastily constructed, offered the only means of safety; to that he committed them, while he sprang to the topmost part of the stern, madly striving to catch a broader view of the ocean amid the blazes of lightning.
Aziek’s name, coupled with that of the awful God he implored to save her, were soon the sole human sounds heard mingling with the roaring elements; alone and hopeless, his eyes were still straining round, when another shock loosened every plank of the vessel, and scattered her in fragments upon the waters.
Sebastian sunk; but his guardian angel yet watched over her charge, and he rose again: cold, motionless, spent with grief and fatigue, insensible to every thing, he was seized by his watchful dog who kept hold in defiance of the storm, and at last brought him safely to land.
The chill morning air contributed to awaken Sebastian from that lethargy into which his senses had fallen; when he unclosed his eyes, they fixed upon Barémel, who lay shivering at his feet; he turned them from him to the objects around: nothing was to be seen beyond arid rocks, and a measureless ocean whose turbid waves sullenly heaved under a leaden sky.
He gazed wistfully, for his thoughts were dim and imperfect, and memory seemed blotted out from his faculties; the confused idea of Kara Aziek, alone remained.
He lay some time looking stedfastly before him, while his senses roused slowly; on a sudden a cry escaped him, he leaped up, and glanced round with a maniac’s wildness; the perfect recollection of his misfortune had shot through his brain, enlightening while it maddened him: he tried to articulate the name of her he lamented, but the sound expired on his lips, and smiting his breast, he sat down again upon the ground.
It is not at first that our hearts feel the full force of a blow which breaks them in pieces: we do not easily comprehend how a few hours or moments can have made us so utterly wretched; ’tis only by degrees that our thoughts, measuring the extent of an irrevocable calamity, ascertain its existence and its magnitude: then rush forth regret and lamentation, then the images of past joys surround us like demons assuming beloved shapes to torture us more keenly; and those deadly words, lost, lost for ever! resounding perpetually thro’ our souls, fill them with desolation and despair.
Pale and motionless, Sebastian sat with his head leaning on his hand, gazing on that wide ocean which had entombed Kara Aziek: even yet, his senses were not quite awake; nay, they seemed to have fallen back into that trance out of which they had transiently started.—His dull eyes saw not the wistful ones of his dumb companion, who sensible to his master’s grief, lay moaning before him: nothing rouzed him till some fragments of wreck floating on shore gave birth to hope.
Again the face of Sebastian shone with animation, his nerves were new-strung, he called to Barémel, and flew rather than ran towards the sea.—Every where he beheld broken masts and yards, mixed with dead bodies; some were already washed on shore, others borne in with the tide: at that afflicting sight he averted his head and groaned heavily. Alas! it appeared his destiny to be for ever surrounded by destruction!—
He traversed the sands and shore in vain, he searched the rocks and their caverns, he sent Barémel into the waves for every object but faintly discernible; Barémel only brought him Kara Aziek’s shawl: at this sight his fortitude ceased, he snatched the sad relic, while burning drops rained from his eyes—she had perished then, she had lost her life for him!—since but for his unhappy sake she would never have consented to be the Basha’s wife, never have braved the sea, never have met so disastrous a death.
Overcome with these convictions, the unfortunate prince held the shawl to his lips, and remained in the same attitude with his face enveloped in it, alternately pursuing in thought the body of Aziek to the hideous depths of ocean, or following with trembling anxiety her pure spirit into the courts of Heaven.