Our monks took us to their convent, a roomy and well-lighted building, surrounded with balconies. Tulloch had discovered a fellow-countryman: the principal brother, who did all the bustling about for us, was a sailor from Jersey whose ship had gone down with all hands off Graciosa. The solitary survivor of the shipwreck, and not lacking in intelligence, he had become an apt pupil of the catechists; he learnt Portuguese and a few words of Latin; the fact of his being an Englishman militated in his favour, and they converted him and made a monk of him. The Jersey sailor found it much pleasanter to be lodged, boarded, and clothed at the altar than to take in the top-gallant sail in a storm. He had not forgotten his old trade: it was long since he had heard his language spoken, and he was delighted to meet some one who knew it; he laughed and swore like a true pilot's apprentice. He showed us over the island. The houses in the villages, built of wood and stone, were adorned with outer galleries which gave an air of neatness to these cottages, because of the quantity of light that prevailed. The peasants, almost all vine-dressers, were half-naked and bronzed by the sun; the women, short, yellow as mulattoes, but sprightly, were frank coquettes, with their posies of syringa-blossoms and their beads worn by way of crowns or chains. The hill-slopes glowed with vine-stocks, the wine from which resembled that of Fayal. Water was scarce, but wherever a spring welled, there grew a fig-tree, there rose an oratory with a frescoed portico. The ogives of the portico framed views of the island and portions of the sea. On one of these fig-trees, I saw a flock of blue teal settle, not of the web-footed variety. The tree had no leaves, but bore red fruit set like crystals. When adorned with the cerulean birds, which let fall their wings, its fruits appeared to be of a brilliant purple, while the tree seemed suddenly to have shot forth an azure foliage. It is probable that the Azores were known to the Carthaginians; it is certain that Phœnician coins have been dug up in the island of Corvo. The modern navigators who first landed at this island are said to have found an equestrian statue pointing with outstretched arm to the west, provided always that this statue is not the imaginary engraving which adorns the old books of seaports. In the manuscript of the _Natchez_, I have made Chactas, returning from Europe, land at the island of Corvo, where he comes across the mysterious statue. He thus expresses the feelings which filled my mind at Graciosa, when I recalled the legend: