ssel.

This we had all been longing to hear; and Captain Farmer now translated
it word for word for the benefit of the doctor and Mr Jellaby, who, as
I have already said, did not understand the original Spanish in which it
was rendered.

The Spaniard said that his name was Don Ferdinando Olivarez and that he
had been the captain and part owner of the barque, which was bound from
Cadiz to Havana with a cargo of the wines of Xeres. She had on board,
besides, a large quantity of specie, which the Spanish Government were
sending out for the payment of the troops in Cuba.

"Your ship was named _La Bella Catarina_, senor," said I, at this point,
as he had not mentioned this fact, though I don't think Captain Farmer
approved of my interruption, for he gave me a look which made me shut up
at once, "was she not sir?"

"Yes, young gentleman," he replied. "She was so-called after my poor
sister-in-law, the murdered lady whose body you saw in the cabin which
proved her tomb--Ay que hermosa esta--oh, how beautiful she was! She
was the wife of my only brother, Don Pedro Olivarez, who died in
defending her. Thus his corpse you also beheld. Oh, my friends, he was
the noblest, best and bravest brother in the world. He had, alas, a
joint share with me in that accursed vessel."

He was overcome with emotion again when he had got so far; and Dr
Nettleby, fearing the narration was too much for him in his present weak
state, wanted him to leave off his story until he felt better.

But after resting a minute or two and taking another sip of the cordial
the doctor handed him, the Spaniard insisted on going on with the
painful recital.

His brother, he said, had charge of the specie sent out in their ship;
and, as his wife had been recommended change of air, he determined to
take her with him on the voyage to Cuba, thinking the trip out and home
would do her good, as well as the poor little baby, who had been only
born two months to the very day on which they sailed from Cadiz.

All went well with them until they were near the Azores, or Western
Islands, where the ship sprang a leak and met with such baffling winds
that she was driven back to the eastward, close in to the Portuguese
coast; when the crew, who were tired out with keeping to the pumps,
managed to broach the cargo and madden themselves with the liquor they
found below.

"What happened next?" asked Captain Farmer, on his pausing here to take
breath and put the cordi