About five I arose: the sun was shining brightly and gloriously upon town, bay, and mountain; the crew were already employed upon deck repairing a sail which had been shivered in the wind of the preceding day. The Jews sat disconsolate on the poop; they complained much of the cold they had suffered in their exposed situation. Over the left eye of the sage I observed a bloody cut, which he informed me he had received from the old Genoese after he had dragged him out of the cabin for the last time. I now produced my bottle of Cognac, begging that the crew would partake of it as a slight return for their hospitality. They thanked me, and the bottle went its round; it was last in the hands of the old mate, who, after looking for a moment at the sage, raised it to his mouth, where he kept it a considerable time longer than any of his companions, after which he returned it to me with a low bow. The sage now inquired what the bottle contained. I told him Cognac, or _aguardiente_, whereupon with some eagerness he begged that I would allow him to take a draught. “How is this?” said I; “yesterday you told me that it was a forbidden thing, an abomination.” “Yesterday,” said he, “I was not aware that it was brandy; I thought it was wine, which assuredly is an abomination, and a forbidden thing.” “Is it forbidden in the _Torah_?” I inquired. “Is it forbidden in the law of God?” “I know not,” said he; “but one thing I know, that the sages have forbidden it.” “Sages like yourself,” cried I with warmth; “sages like yourself, with long beards and short understandings; the use of both drinks is permitted, but more danger lurks in this bottle than in a tun of wine. Well said my Lord the Nazarene, ‘ye strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel;’ but as you are cold and shivering, take the bottle and revive yourself with a small portion of its contents.” He put it to his lips and found not a single drop. The old Genoese grinned. “_Bestia_,” said he, “I saw by your looks that you wished to drink of that bottle, and I said within me, even though I suffocate, yet will I not leave one drop of the _aguardiente_ of the Christian Cavalier to be wasted on that Jew, on whose head may evil lightnings fall.” “Now, Sir Cavalier,” he continued, “you can go ashore: these two sailors shall row you to the Mole, and convey your baggage where you think proper; may the Virgin bless you wherever you go.” CHAPTER LV. The Mole—The Two Moors—Djmah of Tangier—House of God—British Consul—Curious Spectacle—The Moorish House—Joanna Correa—Ave Maria.