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Updated: April 30, 2025
He had to learn the bitter lesson that success frequently only creates enemies and detractors. Now, there was residing at the court of King Battabolo, the sovereign of Bagabornabou, Almidor, the black King of Morocco, who had long in vain sought the hand of the Princess Sabra.
On their way, however, finding that they were not far from Bagabornabou, the native land of the lovely Sabra, they determined to journey thither. De Fistycuff, as a herald, went before to announce their arrival, whereon they were received right royally.
It burst open; and there he beheld his lovely and beloved Sabra, her beauty dimmed, but not extinguished, by her long imprisonment. Saint George and his knights having taken possession of the Moorish capital, he held a grand banquet in honour of the occasion, when a herald announced, in due form, that the British Champion was about to wed the lovely African Princess.
"Here come I, Saint George, the valiant man, With naked sword and spear in hand, Who fought the dragon and brought him to the slaughter, And by this won fair Sabra, the King of Egypt's daughter; What mortal man would dare to stand Before me with my sword in hand?"
The "picaninny" wicked old Sabra had gloated on as a dainty morsel, on the raft, might live to put Fate itself to shame; for had I not marveled that his mother even should care to preserve a thing so frail and wretched, when we sat hand-in-hand together on the burning ship? And, later, had I not pondered over the wisdom of his preservation?
The robe of Sabra, warmly glazed with Prussian blue, is relieved from the pale greenish background by a vermilion scarf; and the full hues of both are beautifully echoed, as it were, in a lower key by the purple-lake coloured stuffs and bluish iron armour of the saint, besides an ample balance to the vivid azure drapery on the foreground in the indigo shades of the wild wood surrounding the castle.
But just at that instant an interruption came from out of the darkness of the brush. "Hello, there! What are you up to?" Tucker started, and the Sabra was turned aside to bury itself in the exposed roots of a tree. "If it ain't Pawnee Brown!" muttered another cavalryman, Ross by name. "Pawnee Brown!" burst from Dick's lips, joyfully, and, rising, he attempted to rush toward his friend.
Scarcely had this satisfactory event been brought about than Saint George received the unwelcome news that the Earl of Coventry was besieging his castle in England, for the purpose of carrying off the Lady Sabra, his bride, and now the mother of three blooming boys, the wicked Earl having spread a report that the great Champion of England, whom no other foe could conquer, had yielded to the inevitable hand of death.
Setting off forthwith, they reached the dominions of the black King; when Saint George, disguising himself as a humble palmer, entered the city, followed by De Fistycuff, in the same habit, to ascertain in what vile dungeon the lovely Sabra was shut up.
In the evening a ball was given on the deck of the steamer, which had been tastefully decorated for the occasion. Our friends, Mr. Sarkis, Mrs. Sarkis and sister, the daughters, Fahima, aged about eighteen, Neda, aged about fourteen, and a son, aged about sixteen, together with Mr. Sabra, came on board to visit the ship. Mr. Sabra sang some Arabic songs and Fahima joined him in a duet.
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