Relates Something about Improvements, Surprises, and Changes in the State of Affairs.  
In consequence of the opportune interference of the British consul, and of the good-will which Lucien had inspired in the breast of the Dey, a ray of light stole into the gloomy Bagnio, and tended to cheer at least two of the slaves.
 
This ray was conveyed by means of the Padre Giovanni, whom we have elsewhere mentioned as being the friend and benefactor of the slaves.
 
Previous to his visit a cloud had overshadowed the prison. Several chaouses had entered, and, after loading Castello and the other runaways with chains, had led them forth to death. It would be painful as well as unnecessary to detail the terrible tortures under which these wretched men perished. The remaining slaves knew well the nature of the fate that awaited them, and the blank caused by the disappearance for ever of their well-known faces, was fitted to restrain all thoughts of rebellion, had such existed. Some surprise was felt at first by all the slaves at the delay of punishment in the case of Francisco and Mariano, but after the first hour or two had passed, they ceased to give the matter a thought.
 
When, therefore, the old man Giovanni entered the Bagnio and informed these two that the Dey had reprieved them, and commanded their attendance at the palace, their surprise was re-awakened, and speculation as to the cause of such unusual proceedings was revived.
 
“I am the bearer of still further tidings,” said the old man, taking a letter from a sort of wallet that hung from his shoulder, and handing it to Francisco.
 
“From Juliet!” exclaimed Francisco, tearing it open and reading aloud eagerly:—
 
    “‘Dearest Father,—It is not possible to express to you the agony that we endured on hearing that you had been taken captive by the Algerines. Oh, why are such monsters allowed to live? (“Why, indeed!” interjected Francisco, bitterly.) But take comfort. God watches over us all. Some of your old friends here have begun to collect money for your ransom, and I work hard to increase the sum—but oh! how slowly it grows! Even darling grandmamma has got some light sewing work which brings in a little. But our hearts mourn because of you. We earnestly hope that the pirates treat you well, (“Thank God they do not know anything about that,” muttered Francisco), and we feel almost sure that they do, because we have been told that they are careful of the slaves who, they hope, will be ransomed. I have therefore written to the Dey—how I hated him while I wrote the humble letter!—telling him that we hoped to raise the sum in a short time. Every one here is very kind and sympathises with us, besides giving a contribution to the fund.
 
    “‘This letter goes by a French vessel which is to touch at Algiers, and which conveys a priest who has a large sum of money with him to ransom Sicilian and other slaves. I entreated him to ransom you with part of it, but he smiled pitifully, and said the money had been raised by the friends of particular slaves, some of whom had been many years in captivity, and that it could not be diverted from its proper objects. How my heart sank when he spoke of some being in slavery for many years! But it was cheered again when I reflected how hard we are all working to raise the money for you and Lucien and Mariano. We send you all our dear love.—Your affectionate daughter.
 
“Shall I have an opportunity of answering this?” asked Francisco, eagerly.
 
“Yes; I am about to conduct you to the palace, where your son Lucien—who, I may mention, is a favourite—awaits you.”
 
“You mustn’t let them know the truth, father,” said Mariano earnestly.
 
“Would you have him tell them what is false?” asked the Padre gravely.
 
“No, no,” replied the youth, with a laugh, “but there is no occasion to mention all that we have suffered, you know; and there is a good deal—I mean a little—that is agreeable to communicate. For instance, this very summons to the palace, and Lucien’s good luck.”
 
“Trust me, lad,” said Francisco; “I won’t fail to cheer them if I can, and you may be sure I won’t exaggerate our misfortunes.—But lead on, old man; I am anxious to get out of this foul den as quickly as—”
 
“Forgive me, comrades,” he added, checking himself, and turning to the slaves near him; “I am grieved more than I can tell to leave you behind. If by remaining I could lighten your sorrows, I would gladly do so. It may seem presumptuous in one who is himself a slave to say so, yet I can’t help assuring you that if the Almighty is pleased to give me any power in this city, I won’t forget you.”
 
This speech was received with a kindly nod by some, and a laugh of scorn by others.
 
Probably the latter had heard similar sentiments before from somewhat kindred and hearty spirits, and had learned from sad experience that nothing ever came of their good-will.
 
Following the old man, the father and son were soon in the presence of Lucien, who received them, as may well be believed, with a full heart.
 
“God bless you, my son,” said Francisco, “for well assured am I that it is through your influence that we are here.”
 
“It is through the influence of the British consul,” replied Lucien.
 
“Well, I pray for a blessing on you both, for it is useless to tell me that you have had no hand in it.”
 
“I do not say that I had no hand in it. On the contrary, I wrote out the order for your acquittal; and,” added Lucien, with a peculiar smile, “I also had previously written out your and Mariano’s death-warrant!”
 
“You are jesting, lad,” said Francisco.
 
“Indeed, I am not,” returned Lucien, relating the circumstances of the whole matter to his astonished and somewhat horrified auditors.
 
“And now,” he continued, “I must let you know your destination. Don’t be disappointed. You must remember that we are slaves, and have just been delivered from the Bagnio. The Dey seems to have taken a fancy for me—”
 
“I don’t wonder,” interrupted Mariano enthusiastically, seizing and squeezing his brother’s hand.
 
“And,” continued Lucien, “he has permitted me to select situations for you. I have arranged that you, father, shall be my assistant in the secretary’s office, and that you, Mariano, shall be shopman to Bacri the Jew.”
 
Lucien looked awkwardly at his father and brother as he spoke, feeling uncertain, no doubt, as to the manner in which they would receive this information. He was therefore rather relieved than otherwise by a smile on the face of Mariano.
 
“Why, Lucien,” he said, “I always thought you a great original, and this last display of your powers confirms me in my opinion. Not that I deem it strange your having appointed father your clerk—for, in the circumstances, it would have been charity to have appointed him even to the office of shoe-black—anything being better than the Bagnio,—but wha............