“I? Since I drank that water, I am quite well. How cold it is! Easy to tell it has come fresh out of some deep fountain in God’s own blessed earth.” “Drink again. There is no stint now, thank God. They have found spring water, and are bringing an abundant supply on board.” And José drank again—deeply, as one who had thirsted long and sorely. Then Fray Fernando prayed him to eat. Food was at hand,—not coarse, hard biscuit, but cool and luscious plantains and bananas, fresh gathered from the luxuriant grove that filled three-fourths of the little island. José ate, and was refreshed. “How long shall we stay here?” he asked. “For several days, at all events, we must stay. Some damage has been done during the storm to the rigging, and especially to one of the great sails, which must needs be repaired before the ship can put to sea again.” “How has the storm dealt with the other ships that were with us?” “That we cannot tell. We have been separated, by the stress of weather, from all, except one. One vessel has taken shelter in the same bay, and is near us now. One for which we have good right to care. Guess its name, José.” “Is it a galley, patre?” “Yes—a galley.” “The _San Cristofero_! O patre, if only we might see the face of Walter Grey once more!” But Fray Fernando shook his head. “Our making inquiry after him could do us no good, and might do him cruel harm,” he said. “He would come again under suspicion, as the friend of prisoners of the Holy Office.” For the space of a week, and rather more, the captives were permitted to enjoy their comparatively comfortable quarters between decks; and their lot was further alleviated by good food, delicious fruit, and an abundant supply of fresh water. But this little gleam of sunshine soon faded. Both the commander and the captain of the _Trionfo_ were very anxious, and with good reason, to overtake and rejoin the Plate fleet. They were therefore of one mind in desiring to hasten the departure of the galleon from the friendly shelter of the island; though they were by no means so unanimous in their ideas of the share that the soldiers and the mariners ought respectively to take in the preliminary labours rendered necessary by her condition. The captain was reported to have said one day, in the bitterness of his soul, that he supposed the “señores y caballeros,” who did him the honour of walking up and down the deck of the _Trionfo_, would rather go to the bottom at once, or fall alive into the hands of the English pirates and cut-throats, Draco and Achines (he meant Drake and Hawkins), than demean themselves so far as to roll a single water-cask on board. And that, as for himself, he was a plain man, and must speak his mind, if the señor commandante were the Lord Viceroy’s nephew ten times over; ay, and if he were to run him through the body the next minute.