. From
my earliest remembrance I had been as I then was in height and proportion. I had
never yet seen a being resembling me, or who claimed any intercourse with me.
What was I? The question again recurred, to be answered only with groans.
    I will soon explain to what these feelings tended; but allow me now to
return to the cottagers, whose story excited in me such various feelings of
indignation, delight, and wonder, but which all terminated in additional love
and reverence for my protectors (for so I loved, in an innocent, half painful
self-deceit, to call them).
 

                                  Chapter XIV

Some time elapsed before I learned the history of my friends. It was one which
could not fail to impress itself deeply on my mind, unfolding as it did a number
of circumstances, each interesting and wonderful to one so utterly inexperienced
as I was.
    The name of the old man was De Lacey. He was descended from a good family in
France, where he had lived for many years in affluence, respected by his
superiors, and beloved by his equals. His son was bred in the service of his
country; and Agatha had ranked with ladies of the highest distinction. A few
months before my arrival, they had lived in a large and luxurious city, called
Paris, surrounded by friends, and possessed of every enjoyment which virtue,
refinement of intellect, or taste, accompanied by a moderate fortune, could
afford.
    The father of Safie had been the cause of their ruin. He was a Turkish
merchant, and had inhabited Paris for many years, when, for some reason which I
could not learn, he became obnoxious to the government. He was seized and cast
into prison the very day that Safie arrived from Constantinople to join him. He
was tried, and condemned to death. The injustice of his sentence was very
flagrant; all Paris was indignant; and it was judged that his religion and
wealth, rather than the crime alleged against him, had been the cause of his
condemnation.
    Felix had accidentally been present at the trial; his horror and indignation
were uncontrollable, when he heard the decision of the court. He made, at that
moment, a solemn vow to deliver him, and then looked around for the means. After
many fruitless attempts to gain admittance to the prison, he found a strongly
grated window in an unguarded part of the building, which lighted the dungeon of
the unfortunate Mahometan; who, loaded with chains, waited in despair the
execution of the barbarous sentence. Felix visited the grate at night, and made
