"Their turn will come," says he; "and 'tis clear by the faces of the women that they are loved. As for justification, I have no doubt they will tell you that the Sun touches first the mountain-tops, and descends afterwards to the little hills; and for that matter—with all respect to your ladyship" (giving a scrape to Lady Biddy)—"I doubt if the females have any reason to complain; for I have observed that those who dwell in high places, though they get more observation and admiration than others do, have but a chilly time of it, while they who hold a moderate height enjoy an agreeable warmth. Hows'mever," says he, "let us leave 'em to themselves awhile, for I see they are going to hold a meeting, and we shall do well to lay our heads together likewise."

I had not left my Lady Biddy's side in descending the mountain, but Matthew had walked three parts of the way conversing with the Ingas, and for the fourth part had fallen behind us and walked in silence, whence I gathered there was something weighty on his mind. And so it presently appeared, for as soon as we were seated together on that part of the enclosure where the canoes lay, he began as follows:

"I have been questioning the Ingas, your ladyship, about getting down the Oronoque," says he, "and it seems to me a more hopeful business than when we first looked at it, thanks be to God. If I have not been quite so chatty as I used to be, and look a little bit chop-fallen at this present, I do beg you to believe it is not by reason of anything the Ingas have told me, but on another account. When you reach the River Meta they will obtain a canoe from a friendly tribe that dwells there, and furnish you with store of things necessary to your journey; and also, by means of cut sticks, which pass among them for letters, they will give you the means of securing help from other tribes that you may meet with. And with their help I doubt not but you will come safe to the mouth of the Oronoque."

"But, Matthew," says I, "you speak as if you were not coming with us. Have you the heart to leave us after sharing our fortunes thus far?"

"Lord love you, master, no. I haven't the heart to leave you, and that's the fact," says he, with a wry face and a scratch of his head. "There's nothing in the world would please me better than to go this journey with you, for I do love you with all my soul. But the best things in this world are put here for us to look at and not to have, and we must put up with what we can get, and be grateful to Providence it's no worse. 'Tis in this way, your ladyship. At the mouth of the Oronoque you would be as badly off as you are here, if there was no one there to meet you; nay, worse, for here you have friends, and there you would stand a chance of finding naught but enemies, wherefore I design to go down this river to Cartagena, or elsewhere, as may be expedient, and thence go in quest of your uncle, that he may come up the Oronoque to meet you. 'Tis but a chance that I find him, to be sure; yet help of some kind I will bring to you by hook or by crook, I warrant, and certain am I that I may serve you better in this manner than in any other, or I could not screw up my courage to part."

"Nay," says Lady Biddy, "why should we part? Can not we all descend to Cartagena?"

"No, your ladyship," says he, with a rueful shake of his head. "Your face marks you out for observation; your speech would betray us, and we should be undone."

"But how can we consent to let you run a risk that we dare not encounter?" says she.

"Alone my risk is small," says he, "for, as Master Benet knows, I have a famous preservative against the touch of Portugals in certain berries that produce a distemper of my skin, which will serve my turn to a marvel at this season when pestilence is rife. I pray you, do not think of me, but only of yourself; or if your generous disposition will not suffer that, then think of your poor uncle and friends, to whom your absence must be torture, and so let me go my way with further discussion."

However, we could not thus suddenly agree to this project, and racked our invention to devise some better expedient; but there was none, and so were we forced at length to yield to his going, but with bitter regret, for we stood in need of a friend, and sure no man was ever a more cheerful, sensible, and devoted comrade than our poor Matthew.