Then followed the words of the narrative in this wise:—
‘Now all things being in readiness, there was a great mass held, with other needful ordinances and prayers to the saints; and so, on the 14th of June, we loosed from the city of Porto Bello, intending to touch at St. Domingo, in the great Isle of Hispaniola, to receive the tribute from the caciques, and so thence across the ocean to Spain. But, alas, it fell out otherwise!—for being but six days at sea, with contrary winds, which here do blow continually from the north-west point of the compass, we did unhappily——’
This was the last line of the page; the following leaf being, as I have said, torn out. The narrative recommenced upon the succeding page with these words:—
‘Thus—thus was I—all praise to the holy saints, particularly to my patron St. Geneviève, and to the Virgin—rescued from my hopeless and miserable condition, and carried home to Spain, I being very heavy and desponding in that voyage, on account of the loss of all my shipmates, so that I vowed never to tempt the seas again, but rather to live on crusts and water ashore.’
From the remaining chapters, which were few, it would seem that the author had kept to this resolution, for he narrated that he became a water-carrier and a servant to a priest, called Pedro Vronez, to whom he dictated the book. The perusal of what I have set down above, the reader will possibly guess, gave rise to a startling train of ideas in my mind, and putting the adventures of Vincente y Tormes in my pocket, I jumped into the canoe, the Mosquito-men having taught me the management of such cockle-shells, and was presently alongside the schooner.
Captain Jem was leaning over the side, fishing with a hook and line.
‘Well, what have you found?’ quoth he, as if he did not think that my search could have availed much.
‘Pound!’ I echoed, clambering on board. ‘I have found what may well make our fortunes.’
At these words, our comrades came running from all sides very eagerly.
‘Where is the dwarf?’ quoth I.