‘Good Señor Davosa, it is no more your vocation to be fearless, than it is mine to be cowardly,’ replied the brisk gallant. ‘The cobwebs of the holy office were spun to catch blue bottles, man, not hornets. But I must tell you the story out. It is true, man, true, every word of it, as the bills of lading you send with this galleon. The people, then, wondered and worshipped, but could make nothing of the matter. Not so the canons. By the soul of the Cid, but they are dexterous fellows, the holy canons, and they caught the clue to the secret in brief time.’ “See you, my brethren,” said the head of the black cassocked brigands, “see you here. An heretical, a very heretical and damnable ship, called the ‘Oxford,’ hath been clean destroyed by fire, kindled no one knows how. Immediately after, coming to say our early prayers, what find we? This sacred effigy bedraggled and besmirched, as you see. How came this so? My brethren, the thing shall be clear unto you. The burning of the ‘Oxford’ is a very apparent and notable miracle. It was Our Lady’s hand held the torch. In the darkness of the night, when no eye saw it, she left her shrine. Many a league hath she walked over land and sea; as, indeed, the state of her garments may well make clear unto you all. Doubtless she hath scaled great mountains, and crested great waves, going with speed, so as to return by daylight to this her temple. The proof is very clear. The ‘Oxford’ hath perished; Our Lady hath spoiled her clothes; therefore hath Our Lady clean destroyed the ‘Oxford.’” And so, “Ave Maria Purissima,” shout the crowd, grovelling in their credulity. But the best—the very cream of the joke is behind—good Davosa, as thou shalt hear. “Good brethren and faithful,” quoth the chief canon again, “it seemeth clear unto me, that after such a miracle wrought in our favour, the least we can do—I mean you can do—is to restore the gold, and the diamonds, and the pearls, and the rubies, thus spoiled and lost by our good Lady. And look ye, it may well be that you shall thus be clear gainers; for if our Lady had not destroyed the ‘Oxford,’ mayhap the ‘Oxford’ would have destroyed Carthagena, and thus would you have been all clean ruined and undone.” So, “Gloria in Excelsis,” again shouted the poor fleeced mob; and the image is to have new jewels, and the canons to have the old ones, as well they deserved them for their ingenuity.’ And so saying, Don José drank off a full glass of wine, and leaned back, laughing lustily. His comrade arose— ‘That I have listened thus long to you, Don José,’ he said, ‘you owe to personal courtesy, not to any sympathy with your heathenish spirit, so full of unbelief and mockery. Have you any further commands?’ ‘No: none—none,’ answered the cavalier, still laughing. ‘But thou knowest, Davosa, that in your heart, man—at the bottom of that cold deep well you call a heart—you are laughing with me in very cordial merriment.’