The crew answered, “Señor, let the Venetian take them.”
And I, having no aim before me, cheerfully undertook the commission; and springing on shore, went straight to the royal palace, where I found myself in presence of Cæsar’s majesty, into whose august hands I delivered the folded paper.
This having opened, he read aloud these words:—“Illustrious Lord! most powerful King of Ireland, the bearer of this letter is a physician of great renown; the sickness of thy daughter, which none can cure, shall flee away at the very sight of him.”
Then I was troubled, and would have explained to the King how I was no physician, and the way in which the lot had fallen upon me to bring the letter, which might equally have fallen on the most ignorant sea-boy aboard; and in truth I knew no more of medicaments than the lowest sea-boy of them all.
But the King was overjoyed at the prospect of the healing of his daughter, and would listen to no explanations. And in proportion as he manifested his joy, my dismay increased, for I feared his anger when the undeception came.
Meantime, at his command, I was ushered into a vast hall, where were assembled a thousand lords. But, gentle reader, you will well believe me, it was not upon one of them I looked, for at first entering my eye lighted upon a casket covered with emeralds and brilliants which I had given to my beloved bride on the day of our espousals.
I threw myself upon it, crying, “Beautiful Isabela! Ah! where art thou? Where art thou mourning over my grief, as I mourn over thine?”
She, who lay sunk down in the depths of her white couch, at hearing these words darted up from it, and flinging her arms round me, embraced me.
I knew her as our lips met; and full of a thousand joys, we sat talking over the past, forgetful of all present.
And first, I asked what had become of the wicked captain.