The pilot gave a curious sort of grin, but did not seem disposed to resist our power. Nicky Hamstring then went to the top of the rock, and hailed our comrades to bring the canoe and the shallop round, which presently they did. Meantime I was considering within myself, whether by a careful overhaul of the little man’s dwelling, I might not be able to light on some clue to the motive—and it could not be a common one—which seemed to bind him to these desolate shoals. Resolving to take my own time and my own way in the search, I directed my comrades to put the pilot into the shallop and row aboard of the schooner, telling Captain Jem that I would follow in the canoe, after a careful search of the tent. They started off accordingly; the dwarf, who appeared to be in tolerable good humour, notwithstanding his capture, taking my place in the stern-sheets, and managing the tiller. As soon as they had disappeared, I commenced my inquisition. The chart of the shoals was very skilfully constructed, and neatly put upon paper, being very different, indeed, from the rude scrawls which seamen commonly trace, of coasts and islands. No indication, however, was to be observed of any harbour, or secure cove, the existence of which might make the reefs a place of refuge. I noticed, however, on the north-west corner of the shoals, a cross slightly traced with a pencil. Putting the chart in my pocket, I searched the hut thoroughly, raking up the sand which formed the floor; and also prying into the casks and boxes which surrounded the tent. These appeared to contain nothing save common coarse provisions. The contents of the sea-chest were clothes such as sailors wear, with one suit of a Spanish cut and fashion, in a pocket of which I felt something hard. Examining more closely, I found the object to be a small and old book, in the Spanish language, imprinted at Granada, in the year 1507, and purporting to be the ‘Voyages and Perilous Journeyings of one Vincente y Tormes, who sailed on board the Caravel, called the Pinta, with the great Admiral Christopher Colon, or Columbus, for the Discovery of the New World.’ Looking over the contents of this volume, I found them to be accounts of divers voyages made between Spain and the West Indies, written in very bad and cramped Spanish, and containing but dry details of little interest. I was about to lay the volume down, when I noticed that it came very easily open towards the latter portion, as though that part had been peculiarly studied, and looking more closely, I saw that a leaf had been cut out. Towards the foot of the page preceding that which was missing, was a chapter with a title as follows— HEREIN I DISCOURSE OF THE PERILOUS LOSS OF THE GREAT TREASURE SHIP SANTA FÈ, AND OF MY MIRACULOUS ESCAPE, BEING THE ONLY ONE OF THAT SHIP’S COMPANY WHO, THROUGH THE SPECIAL GRACE OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN, WAS PRESERVED OUT OF A GREAT DANGER. Then followed the words of the narrative in this wise:—