aniard said it was Isabella. This confirmed the suspicion which
Richard had all along entertained, that the person before him was the
father of his beloved mistress. Keeping this fact to himself, he told
the Spaniard that he would willingly take him and his wife to London,
where possibly they might obtain some intelligence about their child.

Taking them both on board his flag-ship, and having sufficiently armed
and manned the Portuguese galleon, he set sail that night, avoiding the
coast of Spain as much as possible, lest he should be intercepted in
consequence of! information given by the liberated captives. Among the
latter there were some twenty Turks, to whom also Richard granted
freedom, to show that his conduct had been the result simply of his
generous disposition, and not of any secret leaning to the Catholics:
and he asked the Spaniards to set the Turks at liberty upon the first
opportunity. The wind, which had blown fresh and fair at first, died
away into a calm, to the dismay of the English, who murmured against
Richard's unseasonable generosity, saying, that the liberated captives
might give information of what had happened, and that if there chanced
to be armed galleons in port, they might sally out and intercept them.

Richard knew that this was quite true, but strove to allay their fears
in the best way he could. But what availed with them more than all his
arguments, was that the wind sprang up again, so that they crowded all
sail, and in nine days reached London, from which they had been only a
month absent on their cruise. Richard would not enter the port with only
joyous demonstrations, on account of the death of his late commander,
but mingled signs of grief with them. At one moment bugles rang out
cheerily, at the next they were answered by melancholy trumpet notes,
and the wailing fife was heard at intervals between the lively rattle of
the drum and the clash of arms. From one mast-head hung a Turkish banner
reversed, and from another a long black streamer, the ends of which
dipped in the water. In this manner he entered the river of London in
his English ship, leaving the Portuguese ship at sea, for want of depth
of water in the river to float it.

These conflicting demonstrations puzzled the vast multitudes, who
observed them from the shore. They easily recognised the smaller vessel
as the flag-ship of Baron Lansac; but they could not make out how it was
that his second vessel had been exchange