"Except the fairest of all—yourself. Ah, Miriam, my darling! how happy we have been since that day when you so generously saved me from a felon's doom!" rapturously kissing the beautiful, dark face so near his own.
Their bliss was broken by a crowd of brown-skinned people, moving toward the cottage, seemingly acting under some emotion.
"What has happened? What is it?" husband and wife cried simultaneously.
"We have seen a party of white men, doubtlessly shipwrecked on the coast, coming in this direction. They are even now in sight," one man said quickly.
Diniz flushed, and his eyes grew bright with suppressed joy.
"Perhaps some of our countrymen, Miriam. Let us hasten forward to welcome them," he cried eagerly; and leading his wife, while the crowd followed curiously behind, Sampayo hurried in the direction from whence the strangers were coming.
It was not long before they met the tired crew, now dwindled to about twenty, many having perished on the way.
As Diniz stepped towards the first stranger, on whose arm leaned a young and beautiful woman, a low cry burst from his lips.
"Panteleone!" he gasped, "is it really you?"
"What, Diniz!" and the two friends, separated for so long a time, warmly clasped hands.