ons escaped out of the unfortunate galley. We
remained eight days on the island, during which the Turks treated me
with as much respect as if I were their sister. We lay hid in a cave,
the Turks being afraid of being captured by some of the Christian
garrison of a fort in the island, and we supported ourselves with
biscuits from the foundered galley which the waves cast ashore, and
which the men collected by night. It happened for my misfortune that the
commandant of the fort had died a few days before, and that there were
in it only twenty soldiers; this fact we learned from a boy whom the
Turks captured as he was amusing himself gathering shells on the shore.
At the end of eight days a Moorish vessel, of the kind which the Turks
call _caramuzal_, hove in sight; the Turks quitted their hiding-place,
and made signals which were recognised by the crew of the caramuzal.
They landed, and hearing from their countrymen an account of their
disasters, they took us all on board, where there was a very rich Jew,
to whom the whole cargo, or the greater part of it, belonged, consisting
of carpets, stuffs, and other wares, which are commonly exported by the
Jews from Barbary to the Levant. The vessel carried us to Tripoli, and
during the voyage I was sold to the Jew, who gave two thousand
doubloons, an excessive price; but the Jew was made liberal by the love
he conceived for me.

"After leaving the Turks in Tripoli, the vessel continued its voyage,
and the Jew began to importune me with his solicitations, which I
treated with the scorn they deserved. Despairing, therefore, of success,
he resolved to get rid of me upon the first opportunity; and knowing
that the two pashas, Ali and Hassan, were in this island, where he could
sell his goods as well as in Scio, whither he had been bound, he landed
here in hopes of disposing of me to one of the two pashas, with which
view he had me dressed as you now see me. I find that I have been
purchased by the cadi, for the purpose of being presented to the Grand
Turk, which causes me no little dread. Here I heard of your pretended
death, which, if you will believe me, grieved me to the soul; yet I
envied rather than pitied you, not from ill will towards you, for, if
insensible to love, I am yet neither unfeeling nor ungrateful, but
because I believed that your sorrows were all at an end."

"You would be right, lady," said Ricardo, "were it not that death would
have robbed me of the bliss of see