Now in this journey we must needs pass through all the kingdom of Gulconda and also that of Visiapour, in both whereof the kings and ruling men are Moors, and mighty suspicious and jealous of all Europe men, and for this cause we adopted the Indian habit for our travels, that so we might go on our way with less remark. And all this journey, by God’s good providence, we did perform and accomplish in safety, visiting divers places of note and seeing many strange things, which it would be tedious to set down at length. And at Bombaim I bid farewell to my ancient friend the Portugal, thanking him for his kindness towards me and the many things he had taught me in his ingenious discourse, and made myself known to the President of the Council at Bombaim. And by good luck there chanced to be lying in the port just at that time the Company’s _baloon_ from Surat, that was come for to bring an advice from the Council there, so as I was able to be sent on at once to my old factory. And when we were come to Surat, I went on shore immediately, being still in my Moorish habit, and with great _mustachios_, such as the Moguls use to wear, and did seek Mr Martin in his former room. But I found there a gentleman newly arrived from England, that advised me that Mr Martin was now made Accountant, and showed himself very curious to know what I desired with him. But not choosing to gratify this inquisitive temper, I sought the Accountant’s chamber, and found there Mr Martin established in great state and some luxury. And seeing me, he took me for some Arabian or Persian visitor of quality, and speaking in Persian, desired to know how he might serve me, but I regarding him steadfastly, the truth brake into his mind, and he leaped up and seized me joyfully by the hand. “My dear Ned,” quoth he, “_the longest day hath his end_, and I was ever sure I should see you again, though Mr Secretary, and that evil-conditioned cub of his, Mr Spender, hath often scoffed at my security. But _without hope the heart would break_, and so it had been with me, my dear lad, had I believed you truly to be turned Papist and gone to the Brasils. Wherefore I have always declared that you wan’t either dead or recanted, but were honourably and Christianly employed wherever you were, and now here you are for to confirm my words. But truly you are grown from a boy into a man since last I saw you.” “Nay, sir,” says I, “by my own feelings I might be grown from a man into the Wandering Jew.” “Ned,” says Mr Martin, looking me straight in the face, “you have been in trouble, and that other than the Inquisition’s. What is’t, lad? Is it wine, or women, or dice? for ’tis these three are the common curses of our young gentlemen here as in England.”