We had scraped the canoes bright the day
before, and rubbed them with white clay, that they might be invisible at
night; and so we got safely to the Morro Grande, passing within half a
mile of your ship."

"Oh! my scoundrels of sentinels!"

"We landed at the back of the Morro, and lay there all day, being
purposed to do that which, with your pardon, we have done. We took our
sails of Indian cloth, whitened them likewise with clay which we had
brought with us from the river (expecting to find a Spanish ship as we
went along the coast, and determined to attempt her, or die with honor),
and laid them over us on the canoes, paddling from underneath them. So
that, had your sentinels been awake, they would have hardly made us
out, till we were close on board. We had provided ourselves, instead
of ladders, with bamboos rigged with cross-pieces, and a hook of strong
wood at the top of each; they hang at your stern-gallery now. And the
rest of the tale I need not tell you."

The commandant rose in his courtly Spanish way,--

"Your admirable story, senor, proves to me how truly your nation, while
it has yet, and I trust will ever have, to dispute the palm of valor
with our own, is famed throughout the world for ingenuity, and for
daring beyond that of mortal man. You have succeeded, valiant captain,
because you have deserved to succeed; and it is no shame to me to
succumb to enemies who have united the cunning of the serpent with the
valor of the lion. Senor, I feel as proud of becoming your guest as I
should have been proud, under a happier star, of becoming your host."

"You are, like your nation, only too generous, senor. But what noise is
that outside? Cary, go and see."

But ere Cary could reach the door, it was opened; and Evans presented
himself with a terrified face.

"Here's villainy, sir! The Don's murdered, and cold; the Indian lass
fled; and as we searched the ship for her, we found an Englishwoman, as
I'm a sinful man!--and a shocking sight she is to see!"

"An Englishwoman?" cried all three, springing forward.

"Bring her in!" said Amyas, turning very pale; and as he spoke, Yeo and
another led into the cabin a figure scarcely human.

An elderly woman, dressed in the yellow "San Benito" of the Inquisition,
with ragged gray locks hanging about a countenance distorted by
suffering and shrunk by famine. Painfully, as one unaccustomed to the
light, she peered and blinked round her. Her fallen lip gave her a