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VOLUME[ VOLUME 1  ]  

CHAPTER[ XLI. IN WHICH THE CAPTIVE STILL CONTINUES HIS ADVENTURES

Before fifteen days were over our renegade had already purchased an

excellent vessel with room for more than thirty persons; and to make the

transaction safe and lend a colour to it, he thought it well to make, as

he did, a voyage to a place called Shershel, twenty leagues from Algiers

on the Oran side, where there is an extensive trade in dried figs. Two or

three times he made this voyage in company with the Tagarin already

mentioned. The Moors of Aragon are called Tagarins in Barbary, and those

of Granada Mudejars; but in the Kingdom of Fez they call the Mudejars

Elches, and they are the people the king chiefly employs in war. To

proceed: every time he passed with his vessel he anchored in a cove that

was not two crossbow shots from the garden where Zoraida was waiting; and

there the renegade, together with the two Moorish lads that rowed, used

purposely to station himself, either going through his prayers, or else

practising as a part what he meant to perform in earnest. And thus he

would go to Zoraida's garden and ask for fruit, which her father gave

him, not knowing him; but though, as he afterwards told me, he sought to

speak to Zoraida, and tell her who he was, and that by my orders he was

to take her to the land of the Christians, so that she might feel

satisfied and easy, he had never been able to do so; for the Moorish

women do not allow themselves to be seen by any Moor or Turk, unless

their husband or father bid them: with Christian captives they permit

freedom of intercourse and communication, even more than might be

considered proper. But for my part I should have been sorry if he had

spoken to her, for perhaps it might have alarmed her to find her affairs

talked of by renegades. But God, who ordered it otherwise, afforded no

opportunity for our renegade's well-meant purpose; and he, seeing how

safely he could go to Shershel and return, and anchor when and how and

where he liked, and that the Tagarin his partner had no will but his, and

that, now I was ransomed, all we wanted was to find some Christians to

row, told me to look out for any I should be willing to take with me,

over and above those who had been ransomed, and to engage them for the

next Friday, which he fixed upon for our departure. On this I spoke to

twelve Spaniards, all stout rowers, and such as could most easily leave

the city; but it was no easy matter to find so many just then, because

there were twenty ships out on a cruise and they had taken all the rowers

with them; and these would not have been found were it not that their

master remained at home that summer without going to sea in order to

finish a galliot that he had upon the stocks. To these men I said nothing

more than that the next Friday in the evening they were to come out

stealthily one by one and hang about Hadji Morato's garden, waiting for

me there until I came. These directions I gave each one separately, with

orders that if they saw any other Christians there they were not to say

anything to them except that I had directed them to wait at that spot.

This preliminary having been settled, another still more necessary step

had to be taken, which was to let Zoraida know how matters stood that she

might be prepared and forewarned, so as not to be taken by surprise if we

were suddenly to seize upon her before she thought the Christians' vessel

could have returned. I determined, therefore, to go to the garden and try

if I could speak to her; and the day before my departure I went there

under the pretence of gathering herbs. The first person I met was her

father, who addressed me in the language that all over Barbary and even

in Constantinople is the medium between captives and Moors, and is

neither Morisco nor Castilian, nor of any other nation, but a mixture of

all languages, by means of which we can all understand one another. In

this sort of language, I say, he asked me what I wanted in his garden,

and to whom I belonged. I replied that I was a slave of the Arnaut Mami

(for I knew as a certainty that he was a very great friend of his), and

that I wanted some herbs to make a salad. He asked me then whether I were

on ransom or not, and what my master demanded for me. While these

questions and answers were proceeding, the fair Zoraida, who had already

perceived me some time before, came out of the house in the garden, and

as Moorish women are by no means particular about letting themselves be

seen by Christians, or, as I have said before, at all coy, she had no

hesitation in coming to where her father stood with me; moreover her

father, seeing her approaching slowly, called to her to come. It would be

beyond my power now to describe to you the great beauty, the high-bred

air, the brilliant attire of my beloved Zoraida as she presented herself

before my eyes. I will content myself with saying that more pearls hung

from her fair neck, her ears, and her hair than she had hairs on her

head. On her ankles, which as is customary were bare, she had carcajes

(for so bracelets or anklets are called in Morisco) of the purest gold,

set with so many diamonds that she told me afterwards her father valued

them at ten thousand doubloons, and those she had on her wrists were

worth as much more. The pearls were in profusion and very fine, for the

highest display and adornment of the Moorish women is decking themselves

with rich pearls and seed-pearls; and of these there are therefore more

among the Moors than among any other people. Zoraida's father had to the

reputation of possessing a great number, and the purest in all Algiers,

and of possessing also more than two hundred thousand Spanish crowns; and

she, who is now mistress of me only, was mistress of all this. Whether

thus adorned she would have been beautiful or not, and what she must have

been in her prosperity, may be imagined from the beauty remaining to her

after so many hardships; for, as everyone knows, the beauty of some women

has its times and its seasons, and is increased or diminished by chance

causes; and naturally the emotions of the mind will heighten or impair

it, though indeed more frequently they totally destroy it. In a word she

presented herself before me that day attired with the utmost splendour,

and supremely beautiful; at any rate, she seemed to me the most beautiful

object I had ever seen; and when, besides, I thought of all I owed to her

I felt as though I had before me some heavenly being come to earth to

bring me relief and happiness.

As she approached her father told her in his own language that I was a

captive belonging to his friend the Arnaut Mami, and that I had come for

salad.

She took up the conversation, and in that mixture of tongues I have

spoken of she asked me if I was a gentleman, and why I was not ransomed.

I answered that I was already ransomed, and that by the price it might be

seen what value my master set on me, as I had given one thousand five

hundred zoltanis for me; to which she replied, "Hadst thou been my

father's, I can tell thee, I would not have let him part with thee for

twice as much, for you Christians always tell lies about yourselves and

make yourselves out poor to cheat the Moors."

"That may be, lady," said I; "but indeed I dealt truthfully with my

master, as I do and mean to do with everybody in the world."

"And when dost thou go?" said Zoraida.

"To-morrow, I think," said I, "for there is a vessel here from France

which sails to-morrow, and I think I shall go in her."

"Would it not be better," said Zoraida, "to wait for the arrival of ships

from Spain and go with them and not with the French who are not your

friends?"

"No," said I; "though if there were intelligence that a vessel were now

coming from Spain it is true I might, perhaps, wait for it; however, it

is more likely I shall depart to-morrow, for the longing I feel to return

to my country and to those I love is so great that it will not allow me

to wait for another opportunity, however more convenient, if it be

delayed."

"No doubt thou art married in thine own country," said Zoraida, "and for

that reason thou art anxious to go and see thy wife."

"I am not married," I replied, "but I have given my promise to marry on

my arrival there."

"And is the lady beautiful to whom thou hast given it?" said Zoraida.

"So beautiful," said I, "that, to describe her worthily and tell thee the

truth, she is very like thee."

At this her father laughed very heartily and said, "By Allah, Christian,

she must be very beautiful if she is like my daughter, who is the most

beautiful woman in all this kingdom: only look at her well and thou wilt

see I am telling the truth."

Zoraida's father as the better linguist helped to interpret most of these

words and phrases, for though she spoke the bastard language, that, as I

have said, is employed there, she expressed her meaning more by signs

than by words.

While we were still engaged in this conversation, a Moor came running up,

exclaiming that four Turks had leaped over the fence or wall of the

garden, and were gathering the fruit though it was not yet ripe. The old

man was alarmed and Zoraida too, for the Moors commonly, and, so to

speak, instinctively have a dread of the Turks, but particularly of the

soldiers, who are so insolent and domineering to the Moors who are under

their power that they treat them worse than if they were their slaves.

Her father said to Zoraida, "Daughter, retire into the house and shut

thyself in while I go and speak to these dogs; and thou, Christian, pick

thy herbs, and go in peace, and Allah bring thee safe to thy own

country."

I bowed, and he went away to look for the Turks, leaving me alone with

Zoraida, who made as if she were about to retire as her father bade her;

but the moment he was concealed by the trees of the garden, turning to me

with her eyes full of tears she said, "Tameji, cristiano, tameji?" that is

to say, "Art thou going, Christian, art thou going?"

I made answer, "Yes, lady, but not without thee, come what may: be on the

watch for me on the next Juma, and be not alarmed when thou seest us; for

most surely we shall go to the land of the Christians."

This I said in such a way that she understood perfectly all that passed

between us, and throwing her arm round my neck she began with feeble

steps to move towards the house; but as fate would have it (and it might

have been very unfortunate if Heaven had not otherwise ordered it), just

as we were moving on in the manner and position I have described, with

her arm round my neck, her father, as he returned after having sent away

the Turks, saw how we were walking and we perceived that he saw us; but

Zoraida, ready and quickwitted, took care not to remove her arm from my

neck, but on the contrary drew closer to me and laid her head on my

breast, bending her knees a little and showing all the signs and tokens

of fainting, while I at the same time made it seem as though I were

supporting her against my will. Her father came running up to where we

were, and seeing his daughter in this state asked what was the matter

with her; she, however, giving no answer, he said, "No doubt she has

fainted in alarm at the entrance of those dogs," and taking her from mine

he drew her to his own breast, while she sighing, her eyes still wet with

tears, said again, "Ameji, cristiano, ameji"--"Go, Christian, go." To

this her father replied, "There is no need, daughter, for the Christian

to go, for he has done thee no harm, and the Turks have now gone; feel no

alarm, there is nothing to hurt thee, for as I say, the Turks at my

request have gone back the way they came."

"It was they who terrified her, as thou hast said, senor," said I to her

father; "but since she tells me to go, I have no wish to displease her:

peace be with thee, and with thy leave I will come back to this garden

for herbs if need be, for my master says there are nowhere better herbs

for salad then here."

"Come back for any thou hast need of," replied Hadji Morato; "for my

daughter does not speak thus because she is displeased with thee or any

Christian: she only meant that the Turks should go, not thou; or that it

was time for thee to look for thy herbs."

With this I at once took my leave of both; and she, looking as though her

heart were breaking, retired with her father. While pretending to look

for herbs I made the round of the garden at my ease, and studied

carefully all the approaches and outlets, and the fastenings of the house

and everything that could be taken advantage of to make our task easy.

Having done so I went and gave an account of all that had taken place to

the renegade and my comrades, and looked forward with impatience to the

hour when, all fear at an end, I should find myself in possession of the

prize which fortune held out to me in the fair and lovely Zoraida. The

time passed at length, and the appointed day we so longed for arrived;

and, all following out the arrangement and plan which, after careful

consideration and many a long discussion, we had decided upon, we

succeeded as fully as we could have wished; for on the Friday following

the day upon which I spoke to Zoraida in the garden, the renegade

anchored his vessel at nightfall almost opposite the spot where she was.

The Christians who were to row were ready and in hiding in different

places round about, all waiting for me, anxious and elated, and eager to

attack the vessel they had before their eyes; for they did not know the

renegade's plan, but expected that they were to gain their liberty by

force of arms and by killing the Moors who were on board the vessel. As

soon, then, as I and my comrades made our appearance, all those that were

in hiding seeing us came and joined us. It was now the time when the city

gates are shut, and there was no one to be seen in all the space outside.

When we were collected together we debated whether it would be better

first to go for Zoraida, or to make prisoners of the Moorish rowers who

rowed in the vessel; but while we were still uncertain our renegade came

up asking us what kept us, as it was now the time, and all the Moors were

off their guard and most of them asleep. We told him why we hesitated,

but he said it was of more importance first to secure the vessel, which

could be done with the greatest ease and without any danger, and then we

could go for Zoraida. We all approved of what he said, and so without

further delay, guided by him we made for the vessel, and he leaping on

board first, drew his cutlass and said in Morisco, "Let no one stir from

this if he does not want it to cost him his life." By this almost all the

Christians were on board, and the Moors, who were fainthearted, hearing

their captain speak in this way, were cowed, and without any one of them

taking to his arms (and indeed they had few or hardly any) they submitted

without saying a word to be bound by the Christians, who quickly secured

them, threatening them that if they raised any kind of outcry they would

be all put to the sword. This having been accomplished, and half of our

party being left to keep guard over them, the rest of us, again taking

the renegade as our guide, hastened towards Hadji Morato's garden, and as

good luck would have it, on trying the gate it opened as easily as if it

had not been locked; and so, quite quietly and in silence, we reached the

house without being perceived by anybody. The lovely Zoraida was watching

for us at a window, and as soon as she perceived that there were people

there, she asked in a low voice if we were "Nizarani," as much as to say

or ask if we were Christians. I answered that we were, and begged her to

come down. As soon as she recognised me she did not delay an instant, but

without answering a word came down immediately, opened the door and

presented herself before us all, so beautiful and so richly attired that

I cannot attempt to describe her. The moment I saw her I took her hand

and kissed it, and the renegade and my two comrades did the same; and the

rest, who knew nothing of the circumstances, did as they saw us do, for

it only seemed as if we were returning thanks to her, and recognising her

as the giver of our liberty. The renegade asked her in the Morisco

language if her father was in the house. She replied that he was and that

he was asleep.

"Then it will be necessary to waken him and take him with us," said the

renegade, "and everything of value in this fair mansion."

"Nay," said she, "my father must not on any account be touched, and there

is nothing in the house except what I shall take, and that will be quite

enough to enrich and satisfy all of you; wait a little and you shall

see," and so saying she went in, telling us she would return immediately

and bidding us keep quiet making any noise.

I asked the renegade what had passed between them, and when he told me, I

declared that nothing should be done except in accordance with the wishes

of Zoraida, who now came back with a little trunk so full of gold crowns

that she could scarcely carry it. Unfortunately her father awoke while

this was going on, and hearing a noise in the garden, came to the window,

and at once perceiving that all those who were there were Christians,

raising a prodigiously loud outcry, he began to call out in Arabic,

"Christians, Christians! thieves, thieves!" by which cries we were all

thrown into the greatest fear and embarrassment; but the renegade seeing

the danger we were in and how important it was for him to effect his

purpose before we were heard, mounted with the utmost quickness to where

Hadji Morato was, and with him went some of our party; I, however, did

not dare to leave Zoraida, who had fallen almost fainting in my arms. To

be brief, those who had gone upstairs acted so promptly that in an

instant they came down, carrying Hadji Morato with his hands bound and a

napkin tied over his mouth, which prevented him from uttering a word,

warning him at the same time that to attempt to speak would cost him his

life. When his daughter caught sight of him she covered her eyes so as

not to see him, and her father was horror-stricken, not knowing how

willingly she had placed herself in our hands. But it was now most

essential for us to be on the move, and carefully and quickly we regained

the vessel, where those who had remained on board were waiting for us in

apprehension of some mishap having befallen us. It was barely two hours

after night set in when we were all on board the vessel, where the cords

were removed from the hands of Zoraida's father, and the napkin from his

mouth; but the renegade once more told him not to utter a word, or they

would take his life. He, when he saw his daughter there, began to sigh

piteously, and still more when he perceived that I held her closely

embraced and that she lay quiet without resisting or complaining, or

showing any reluctance; nevertheless he remained silent lest they should

carry into effect the repeated threats the renegade had addressed to him.

Finding herself now on board, and that we were about to give way with the

oars, Zoraida, seeing her father there, and the other Moors bound, bade

the renegade ask me to do her the favour of releasing the Moors and

setting her father at liberty, for she would rather drown herself in the

sea than suffer a father that had loved her so dearly to be carried away

captive before her eyes and on her account. The renegade repeated this to

me, and I replied that I was very willing to do so; but he replied that

it was not advisable, because if they were left there they would at once

raise the country and stir up the city, and lead to the despatch of swift

cruisers in pursuit, and our being taken, by sea or land, without any

possibility of escape; and that all that could be done was to set them

free on the first Christian ground we reached. On this point we all

agreed; and Zoraida, to whom it was explained, together with the reasons

that prevented us from doing at once what she desired, was satisfied

likewise; and then in glad silence and with cheerful alacrity each of our

stout rowers took his oar, and commending ourselves to God with all our

hearts, we began to shape our course for the island of Majorca, the

nearest Christian land. Owing, however, to the Tramontana rising a

little, and the sea growing somewhat rough, it was impossible for us to

keep a straight course for Majorca, and we were compelled to coast in the

direction of Oran, not without great uneasiness on our part lest we

should be observed from the town of Shershel, which lies on that coast,

not more than sixty miles from Algiers. Moreover we were afraid of

meeting on that course one of the galliots that usually come with goods

from Tetuan; although each of us for himself and all of us together felt

confident that, if we were to meet a merchant galliot, so that it were

not a cruiser, not only should we not be lost, but that we should take a

vessel in which we could more safely accomplish our voyage. As we pursued

our course Zoraida kept her head between my hands so as not to see her

father, and I felt that she was praying to Lela Marien to help us.

We might have made about thirty miles when daybreak found us some three

musket-shots off the land, which seemed to us deserted, and without

anyone to see us. For all that, however, by hard rowing we put out a

little to sea, for it was now somewhat calmer, and having gained about

two leagues the word was given to row by batches, while we ate something,

for the vessel was well provided; but the rowers said it was not a time

to take any rest; let food be served out to those who were not rowing,

but they would not leave their oars on any account. This was done, but

now a stiff breeze began to blow, which obliged us to leave off rowing

and make sail at once and steer for Oran, as it was impossible to make

any other course. All this was done very promptly, and under sail we ran

more than eight miles an hour without any fear, except that of coming

across some vessel out on a roving expedition. We gave the Moorish rowers

some food, and the renegade comforted them by telling them that they were

not held as captives, as we should set them free on the first

opportunity.

The same was said to Zoraida's father, who replied, "Anything else,

Christian, I might hope for or think likely from your generosity and good

behaviour, but do not think me so simple as to imagine you will give me

my liberty; for you would have never exposed yourselves to the danger of

depriving me of it only to restore it to me so generously, especially as

you know who I am and the sum you may expect to receive on restoring it;

and if you will only name that, I here offer you all you require for

myself and for my unhappy daughter there; or else for her alone, for she

is the greatest and most precious part of my soul."

As he said this he began to weep so bitterly that he filled us all with

compassion and forced Zoraida to look at him, and when she saw him

weeping she was so moved that she rose from my feet and ran to throw her

arms round him, and pressing her face to his, they both gave way to such

an outburst of tears that several of us were constrained to keep them

company.

But when her father saw her in full dress and with all her jewels about

her, he said to her in his own language, "What means this, my daughter?

Last night, before this terrible misfortune in which we are plunged

befell us, I saw thee in thy everyday and indoor garments; and now,

without having had time to attire thyself, and without my bringing thee

any joyful tidings to furnish an occasion for adorning and bedecking

thyself, I see thee arrayed in the finest attire it would be in my power

to give thee when fortune was most kind to us. Answer me this; for it

causes me greater anxiety and surprise than even this misfortune itself."

The renegade interpreted to us what the Moor said to his daughter; she,

however, returned him no answer. But when he observed in one corner of

the vessel the little trunk in which she used to keep her jewels, which

he well knew he had left in Algiers and had not brought to the garden, he

was still more amazed, and asked her how that trunk had come into our

hands, and what there was in it. To which the renegade, without waiting

for Zoraida to reply, made answer, "Do not trouble thyself by asking thy

daughter Zoraida so many questions, senor, for the one answer I will give

thee will serve for all; I would have thee know that she is a Christian,

and that it is she who has been the file for our chains and our deliverer

from captivity. She is here of her own free will, as glad, I imagine, to

find herself in this position as he who escapes from darkness into the

light, from death to life, and from suffering to glory."

"Daughter, is this true, what he says?" cried the Moor.

"It is," replied Zoraida.

"That thou art in truth a Christian," said the old man, "and that thou

hast given thy father into the power of his enemies?"

To which Zoraida made answer, "A Christian I am, but it is not I who have

placed thee in this position, for it never was my wish to leave thee or

do thee harm, but only to do good to myself."

"And what good hast thou done thyself, daughter?" said he.

"Ask thou that," said she, "of Lela Marien, for she can tell thee better

than I."

The Moor had hardly heard these words when with marvellous quickness he

flung himself headforemost into the sea, where no doubt he would have

been drowned had not the long and full dress he wore held him up for a

little on the surface of the water. Zoraida cried aloud to us to save

him, and we all hastened to help, and seizing him by his robe we drew him

in half drowned and insensible, at which Zoraida was in such distress

that she wept over him as piteously and bitterly as though he were

already dead. We turned him upon his face and he voided a great quantity

of water, and at the end of two hours came to himself. Meanwhile, the

wind having changed we were compelled to head for the land, and ply our

oars to avoid being driven on shore; but it was our good fortune to reach

a creek that lies on one side of a small promontory or cape, called by

the Moors that of the "Cava rumia," which in our language means "the

wicked Christian woman;" for it is a tradition among them that La Cava,

through whom Spain was lost, lies buried at that spot; "cava" in their

language meaning "wicked woman," and "rumia" "Christian;" moreover, they

count it unlucky to anchor there when necessity compels them, and they

never do so otherwise. For us, however, it was not the resting-place of

the wicked woman but a haven of safety for our relief, so much had the

sea now got up. We posted a look-out on shore, and never let the oars out

of our hands, and ate of the stores the renegade had laid in, imploring

God and Our Lady with all our hearts to help and protect us, that we

might give a happy ending to a beginning so prosperous. At the entreaty

of Zoraida orders were given to set on shore her father and the other

Moors who were still bound, for she could not endure, nor could her

tender heart bear to see her father in bonds and her fellow-countrymen

prisoners before her eyes. We promised her to do this at the moment of

departure, for as it was uninhabited we ran no risk in releasing them at

that place.

Our prayers were not so far in vain as to be unheard by Heaven, for after

a while the wind changed in our favour, and made the sea calm, inviting

us once more to resume our voyage with a good heart. Seeing this we

unbound the Moors, and one by one put them on shore, at which they were

filled with amazement; but when we came to land Zoraida's father, who had

now completely recovered his senses, he said:

"Why is it, think ye, Christians, that this wicked woman is rejoiced at

your giving me my liberty? Think ye it is because of the affection she

bears me? Nay verily, it is only because of the hindrance my presence

offers to the execution of her base designs. And think not that it is her

belief that yours is better than ours that has led her to change her

religion; it is only because she knows that immodesty is more freely

practised in your country than in ours." Then turning to Zoraida, while I

and another of the Christians held him fast by both arms, lest he should

do some mad act, he said to her, "Infamous girl, misguided maiden,

whither in thy blindness and madness art thou going in the hands of these

dogs, our natural enemies? Cursed be the hour when I begot thee! Cursed

the luxury and indulgence in which I reared thee!"

But seeing that he was not likely soon to cease I made haste to put him

on shore, and thence he continued his maledictions and lamentations

aloud; calling on Mohammed to pray to Allah to destroy us, to confound

us, to make an end of us; and when, in consequence of having made sail,

we could no longer hear what he said we could see what he did; how he

plucked out his beard and tore his hair and lay writhing on the ground.

But once he raised his voice to such a pitch that we were able to hear

what he said. "Come back, dear daughter, come back to shore; I forgive

thee all; let those men have the money, for it is theirs now, and come

back to comfort thy sorrowing father, who will yield up his life on this

barren strand if thou dost leave him."

All this Zoraida heard, and heard with sorrow and tears, and all she

could say in answer was, "Allah grant that Lela Marien, who has made me

become a Christian, give thee comfort in thy sorrow, my father. Allah

knows that I could not do otherwise than I have done, and that these

Christians owe nothing to my will; for even had I wished not to accompany

them, but remain at home, it would have been impossible for me, so

eagerly did my soul urge me on to the accomplishment of this purpose,

which I feel to be as righteous as to thee, dear father, it seems

wicked."

But neither could her father hear her nor we see him when she said this;

and so, while I consoled Zoraida, we turned our attention to our voyage,

in which a breeze from the right point so favoured us that we made sure

of finding ourselves off the coast of Spain on the morrow by daybreak.

But, as good seldom or never comes pure and unmixed, without being

attended or followed by some disturbing evil that gives a shock to it,

our fortune, or perhaps the curses which the Moor had hurled at his

daughter (for whatever kind of father they may come from these are always

to be dreaded), brought it about that when we were now in mid-sea, and

the night about three hours spent, as we were running with all sail set

and oars lashed, for the favouring breeze saved us the trouble of using

them, we saw by the light of the moon, which shone brilliantly, a

square-rigged vessel in full sail close to us, luffing up and standing

across our course, and so close that we had to strike sail to avoid

running foul of her, while they too put the helm hard up to let us pass.

They came to the side of the ship to ask who we were, whither we were

bound, and whence we came, but as they asked this in French our renegade

said, "Let no one answer, for no doubt these are French corsairs who

plunder all comers."

Acting on this warning no one answered a word, but after we had gone a

little ahead, and the vessel was now lying to leeward, suddenly they

fired two guns, and apparently both loaded with chain-shot, for with one

they cut our mast in half and brought down both it and the sail into the

sea, and the other, discharged at the same moment, sent a ball into our

vessel amidships, staving her in completely, but without doing any

further damage. We, however, finding ourselves sinking began to shout for

help and call upon those in the ship to pick us up as we were beginning

to fill. They then lay to, and lowering a skiff or boat, as many as a

dozen Frenchmen, well armed with match-locks, and their matches burning,

got into it and came alongside; and seeing how few we were, and that our

vessel was going down, they took us in, telling us that this had come to

us through our incivility in not giving them an answer. Our renegade took

the trunk containing Zoraida's wealth and dropped it into the sea without

anyone perceiving what he did. In short we went on board with the

Frenchmen, who, after having ascertained all they wanted to know about

us, rifled us of everything we had, as if they had been our bitterest

enemies, and from Zoraida they took even the anklets she wore on her

feet; but the distress they caused her did not distress me so much as the

fear I was in that from robbing her of her rich and precious jewels they

would proceed to rob her of the most precious jewel that she valued more

than all. The desires, however, of those people do not go beyond money,

but of that their covetousness is insatiable, and on this occasion it was

carried to such a pitch that they would have taken even the clothes we

wore as captives if they had been worth anything to them. It was the

advice of some of them to throw us all into the sea wrapped up in a sail;

for their purpose was to trade at some of the ports of Spain, giving

themselves out as Bretons, and if they brought us alive they would be

punished as soon as the robbery was discovered; but the captain (who was

the one who had plundered my beloved Zoraida) said he was satisfied with

the prize he had got, and that he would not touch at any Spanish port,

but pass the Straits of Gibraltar by night, or as best he could, and make

for La Rochelle, from which he had sailed. So they agreed by common

consent to give us the skiff belonging to their ship and all we required

for the short voyage that remained to us, and this they did the next day

on coming in sight of the Spanish coast, with which, and the joy we felt,

all our sufferings and miseries were as completely forgotten as if they

had never been endured by us, such is the delight of recovering lost

liberty.

It may have been about mid-day when they placed us in the boat, giving us

two kegs of water and some biscuit; and the captain, moved by I know not

what compassion, as the lovely Zoraida was about to embark, gave her some

forty gold crowns, and would not permit his men to take from her those

same garments which she has on now. We got into the boat, returning them

thanks for their kindness to us, and showing ourselves grateful rather

than indignant. They stood out to sea, steering for the straits; we,

without looking to any compass save the land we had before us, set

ourselves to row with such energy that by sunset we were so near that we

might easily, we thought, land before the night was far advanced. But as

the moon did not show that night, and the sky was clouded, and as we knew

not whereabouts we were, it did not seem to us a prudent thing to make

for the shore, as several of us advised, saying we ought to run ourselves

ashore even if it were on rocks and far from any habitation, for in this

way we should be relieved from the apprehensions we naturally felt of the

prowling vessels of the Tetuan corsairs, who leave Barbary at nightfall

and are on the Spanish coast by daybreak, where they commonly take some

prize, and then go home to sleep in their own houses. But of the

conflicting counsels the one which was adopted was that we should

approach gradually, and land where we could if the sea were calm enough

to permit us. This was done, and a little before midnight we drew near to

the foot of a huge and lofty mountain, not so close to the sea but that

it left a narrow space on which to land conveniently. We ran our boat up

on the sand, and all sprang out and kissed the ground, and with tears of

joyful satisfaction returned thanks to God our Lord for all his

incomparable goodness to us on our voyage. We took out of the boat the

provisions it contained, and drew it up on the shore, and then climbed a

long way up the mountain, for even there we could not feel easy in our

hearts, or persuade ourselves that it was Christian soil that was now

under our feet.

The dawn came, more slowly, I think, than we could have wished; we

completed the ascent in order to see if from the summit any habitation or

any shepherds' huts could be discovered, but strain our eyes as we might,

neither dwelling, nor human being, nor path nor road could we perceive.

However, we determined to push on farther, as it could not but be that

ere long we must see some one who could tell us where we were. But what

distressed me most was to see Zoraida going on foot over that rough

ground; for though I once carried her on my shoulders, she was more

wearied by my weariness than rested by the rest; and so she would never

again allow me to undergo the exertion, and went on very patiently and

cheerfully, while I led her by the hand. We had gone rather less than a

quarter of a league when the sound of a little bell fell on our ears, a

clear proof that there were flocks hard by, and looking about carefully

to see if any were within view, we observed a young shepherd tranquilly

and unsuspiciously trimming a stick with his knife at the foot of a cork

tree. We called to him, and he, raising his head, sprang nimbly to his

feet, for, as we afterwards learned, the first who presented themselves

to his sight were the renegade and Zoraida, and seeing them in Moorish

dress he imagined that all the Moors of Barbary were upon him; and

plunging with marvellous swiftness into the thicket in front of him, he

began to raise a prodigious outcry, exclaiming, "The Moors--the Moors

have landed! To arms, to arms!" We were all thrown into perplexity by

these cries, not knowing what to do; but reflecting that the shouts of

the shepherd would raise the country and that the mounted coast-guard

would come at once to see what was the matter, we agreed that the

renegade must strip off his Turkish garments and put on a captive's

jacket or coat which one of our party gave him at once, though he himself

was reduced to his shirt; and so commending ourselves to God, we followed

the same road which we saw the shepherd take, expecting every moment that

the coast-guard would be down upon us. Nor did our expectation deceive

us, for two hours had not passed when, coming out of the brushwood into

the open ground, we perceived some fifty mounted men swiftly approaching

us at a hand-gallop. As soon as we saw them we stood still, waiting for

them; but as they came close and, instead of the Moors they were in quest

of, saw a set of poor Christians, they were taken aback, and one of them

asked if it could be we who were the cause of the shepherd having raised

the call to arms. I said "Yes," and as I was about to explain to him what

had occurred, and whence we came and who we were, one of the Christians

of our party recognised the horseman who had put the question to us, and

before I could say anything more he exclaimed:

"Thanks be to God, sirs, for bringing us to such good quarters; for, if I

do not deceive myself, the ground we stand on is that of Velez Malaga

unless, indeed, all my years of captivity have made me unable to

recollect that you, senor, who ask who we are, are Pedro de Bustamante,

my uncle."

The Christian captive had hardly uttered these words, when the horseman

threw himself off his horse, and ran to embrace the young man, crying:

"Nephew of my soul and life! I recognise thee now; and long have I

mourned thee as dead, I, and my sister, thy mother, and all thy kin that

are still alive, and whom God has been pleased to preserve that they may

enjoy the happiness of seeing thee. We knew long since that thou wert in

Algiers, and from the appearance of thy garments and those of all this

company, I conclude that ye have had a miraculous restoration to

liberty."

"It is true," replied the young man, "and by-and-by we will tell you

all."

As soon as the horsemen understood that we were Christian captives, they

dismounted from their horses, and each offered his to carry us to the

city of Velez Malaga, which was a league and a half distant. Some of them

went to bring the boat to the city, we having told them where we had left

it; others took us up behind them, and Zoraida was placed on the horse of

the young man's uncle. The whole town came out to meet us, for they had

by this time heard of our arrival from one who had gone on in advance.

They were not astonished to see liberated captives or captive Moors, for

people on that coast are well used to see both one and the other; but

they were astonished at the beauty of Zoraida, which was just then

heightened, as well by the exertion of travelling as by joy at finding

herself on Christian soil, and relieved of all fear of being lost; for

this had brought such a glow upon her face, that unless my affection for

her were deceiving me, I would venture to say that there was not a more

beautiful creature in the world--at least, that I had ever seen. We went

straight to the church to return thanks to God for the mercies we had

received, and when Zoraida entered it she said there were faces there

like Lela Marien's. We told her they were her images; and as well as he

could the renegade explained to her what they meant, that she might adore

them as if each of them were the very same Lela Marien that had spoken to

her; and she, having great intelligence and a quick and clear instinct,

understood at once all he said to her about them. Thence they took us

away and distributed us all in different houses in the town; but as for

the renegade, Zoraida, and myself, the Christian who came with us brought

us to the house of his parents, who had a fair share of the gifts of

fortune, and treated us with as much kindness as they did their own son.

We remained six days in Velez, at the end of which the renegade, having

informed himself of all that was requisite for him to do, set out for the

city of Granada to restore himself to the sacred bosom of the Church

through the medium of the Holy Inquisition. The other released captives

took their departures, each the way that seemed best to him, and Zoraida

and I were left alone, with nothing more than the crowns which the

courtesy of the Frenchman had bestowed upon Zoraida, out of which I

bought the beast on which she rides; and, I for the present attending her

as her father and squire and not as her husband, we are now going to

ascertain if my father is living, or if any of my brothers has had better

fortune than mine has been; though, as Heaven has made me the companion

of Zoraida, I think no other lot could be assigned to me, however happy,

that I would rather have. The patience with which she endures the

hardships that poverty brings with it, and the eagerness she shows to

become a Christian, are such that they fill me with admiration, and bind

me to serve her all my life; though the happiness I feel in seeing myself

hers, and her mine, is disturbed and marred by not knowing whether I

shall find any corner to shelter her in my own country, or whether time

and death may not have made such changes in the fortunes and lives of my

father and brothers, that I shall hardly find anyone who knows me, if

they are not alive.

I have no more of my story to tell you, gentlemen; whether it be an

interesting or a curious one let your better judgments decide; all I can

say is I would gladly have told it to you more briefly; although my fear

of wearying you has made me leave out more than one circumstance.

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