Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth

by Charles Kingsley

  CHAPTER XXVII

  HOW SALVATION YEO FOUND HIS LITTLE MAID AGAIN

  "All precious things, discover'd late, To them who seek them issue forth; For love in sequel works with fate, And draws the veil from hidden worth."

  The Sleeping Beauty.

  And so Ayacanora took up her abode in Lucy's cabin, as a regularlyaccredited member of the crew.

  But a most troublesome member; for now began in her that perilous crisiswhich seems to endanger the bodies and souls of all savages and savagetribes, when they first mingle with the white man; that crisis which,a few years afterwards, began to hasten the extermination of the NorthAmerican tribes; and had it not been for the admirable good sense andconstancy of Amyas, Ayacanora might have ended even more miserably thandid the far-famed Pocahontas, daughter of the Virginian king; who, afterhaving been received at Court by the old pedant James the First,with the honors of a sister sovereign, and having become the reputedancestress of more than one ancient Virginian family, ended her days inwretchedness in some Wapping garret.

  For the mind of the savage, crushed by the sight of the white man'ssuperior skill, and wealth, and wisdom, loses at first its self-respect;while his body, pampered with easily obtained luxuries, insteadof having to win the necessaries of life by heavy toil, loses itsself-helpfulness; and with self-respect and self-help vanish all thesavage virtues, few and flimsy as they are, and the downward road towardbegging and stealing, sottishness and idleness, is easy, if not sure.

  And down that road, it really seemed at first, that poor Ayacanora waswalking fast. For the warrior-prophetess of the Omaguas soon became, toall appearance, nothing but a very naughty child; and the Diana of theMeta, after she had satisfied her simple wonder at the great floatinghouse by rambling from deck to deck, and peeping into every cupboardand cranny, manifested a great propensity to steal and hide (she was tooproud or too shy to ask for) every trumpery which smit her fancy; andwhen Amyas forbade her to take anything without leave, threatenedto drown herself, and went off and sulked all day in her cabin.Nevertheless, she obeyed him, except in the matter of sweet things.Perhaps she craved naturally for the vegetable food of her nativeforests; at all events the bishop's stores of fruit and sweetmeatsdiminished rapidly; and what was worse, so did the sweet Spanish winewhich Amyas had set apart for poor Lucy's daily cordial. Whereon anothersevere lecture, in which Amyas told her how mean it was to rob poorsick Lucy; whereat she, as usual, threatened to drown herself; and wasrunning upon deck to do it, when Amyas caught her and forgave her. Onwhich a violent fit of crying, and great penitence and promises; anda week after, Amyas found that she had cheated Satan and her ownconscience by tormenting the Portuguese steward into giving her someother wine instead: but luckily for her, she found Amyas's warningsabout wine making her mad so far fulfilled, that she did several foolishthings one evening, and had a bad headache next morning; so the murderwas out, and Amyas ordered the steward up for a sound flogging; butAyacanora, honorably enough, not only begged him off, but offered to bewhipped instead of him, confessing that the poor fellow spoke truly whenhe swore that she had threatened to kill him, and that he had given herthe wine in bodily fear for his life.

  However, her own headache and Amyas's cold looks were lesson enough, andafter another attempt to drown herself, the wilful beauty settled downfor awhile; and what was better, could hardly be persuaded, thenceforthto her dying day, to touch fermented liquors.

  But, in the meanwhile, poor Amyas had many a brains-beating as to howhe was to tame a lady who, on the least provocation, took refuge insuicide. Punish her he dared not, even if he had the heart. And as forputting her ashore, he had an instinct, and surely not a superstitiousone, that her strange affection for the English was not unsent byHeaven, and that God had committed her into his charge, and that Hewould require an account at his hands of the soul of that fair lostlamb.

  So, almost at his wits' end, he prayed to God, good simple fellow, andthat many a time, to show him what he should do with her before shekilled either herself, or what was just as likely, one of the crew; andit seemed best to him to make Parson Jack teach her the rudiments ofChristianity, that she might be baptized in due time when they got hometo England.

  But here arose a fresh trouble--for she roundly refused to learn ofJack, or of any one but Amyas himself; while he had many a good reasonfor refusing the office of schoolmaster; so, for a week or two more,Ayacanora remained untaught, save in the English tongue, which shepicked up with marvellous rapidity.

  And next, as if troubles would never end, she took a violent dislike,not only to John Brimblecombe, whose gait and voice she openly mimickedfor the edification of the men; but also to Will Cary, whom she neverallowed to speak to her or approach her. Perhaps she was jealous of hisintimacy with Amyas; or perhaps, with the subtle instinct of a woman,she knew that he was the only other man on board who might dare to makelove to her (though Will, to do him justice, was as guiltless of anysuch intention as Amyas himself). But when she was remonstrated with,her only answer was that Cary was a cacique as well as Amyas, and thatthere ought not to be two caciques; and one day she actually proposed toAmyas to kill his supposed rival, and take the ship all to himself;and sulked for several days at hearing Amyas, amid shouts of laughter,retail her precious advice to its intended victim.

  Moreover, the negroes came in for their share, being regarded all alongby her with an unspeakable repugnance, which showed itself at first inhiding from them whenever she could, and, afterwards, in throwing atthem everything she could lay hands on, till the poor Quashies, indanger of their lives, complained to Amyas, and got rest for awhile.

  Over the rest of the sailors she lorded it like a very princess, callingthem from their work to run on her errands and make toys for her,enforcing her commands now and then by a shrewd box on the ears; whilethe good fellows, especially old Yeo, like true sailors, petted her,obeyed her, even jested with her, much as they might have done with atame leopard, whose claws might be unsheathed and about their ears atany moment. But she amused them, and amused Amyas too. They must ofcourse have a pet; and what prettier one could they have? And as forAmyas, the constant interest of her presence, even the constantanxiety of her wilfulness, kept his mind busy, and drove out many a sadforeboding about that meeting with his mother, and the tragedy whichhe had to tell her, which would otherwise, so heavily did they weigh onhim, have crushed his spirit with melancholy, and made all his worldlysuccess and marvellous deliverance worthless in his eyes.

  At last the matter, as most things luckily do, came to a climax; and itcame in this way.

  The ship had been slipping along now for many a day, slowly but steadilybefore a favorable breeze. She had passed the ring of the West Indiaislands, and was now crawling, safe from all pursuit, through the vastweed-beds of the Sargasso Sea. There, for the first time, it was thoughtsafe to relax the discipline which had been hitherto kept up, and to"rummage" (as was the word in those days) their noble prize. What theyfound, of gold and silver, jewels, and merchandise, will interest noreaders. Suffice it to say, that there was enough there, with the othertreasure, to make Amyas rich for life, after all claims of Cary's andthe crew, not forgetting Mr. Salterne's third, as owner of the ship,had been paid off. But in the captain's cabin were found two chests, onefull of gorgeous Mexican feather dresses, and the other of Spanish andEast Indian finery, which, having come by way of Havana and Cartagena,was going on, it seemed, to some senora or other at the Caracas. Whichtwo chests were, at Cary's proposal, voted amid the acclamations ofthe crew to Ayacanora, as her due and fit share of the pillage, inconsideration of her Amazonian prowess and valuable services.

  So the poor child took greedy possession of the trumpery, had themcarried into Lucy's cabin, and there knelt gloating over them many anhour. The Mexican work she chose to despise as savage; but the Spanishdresses were a treasure; and for two or three days she appeared on thequarter-deck, sunning herself like a peacock before the eye
s of Amyas inSeville mantillas, Madrid hats, Indian brocade farthingales, and I knownot how many other gewgaws, and dare not say how put on.

  The crew tittered: Amyas felt much more inclined to cry. There isnothing so pathetic as a child's vanity, saving a grown person aping achild's vanity; and saving, too, a child's agony of disappointment whenit finds that it has been laughed at instead of being admired. Amyaswould have spoken, but he was afraid: however, the evil brought its owncure. The pageant went on, as its actor thought, most successfullyfor three days or so; but at last the dupe, unable to contain herselflonger, appealed to Amyas,--"Ayacanora quite English girl now; is shenot?"--heard a titter behind her, looked round, saw a dozen honestfaces in broad grin, comprehended all in a moment, darted down thecompanion-ladder, and vanished.

  Amyas, fully expecting her to jump overboard, followed as fast as hecould. But she had locked herself in with Lucy, and he could hear herviolent sobs, and Lucy's faint voice entreating to know what was thematter.

  In vain he knocked. She refused to come out all day, and at even theywere forced to break the door open, to prevent Lucy being starved.

  There sat Ayacanora, her finery half torn off, and scattered about thefloor in spite, crying still as if her heart would break; while poorLucy cried too, half from fright and hunger, and half for company.

  Amyas tried to comfort the poor child, assured her that the men shouldnever laugh at her again; "But then," added he, "you must not beso--so--" What to say he hardly knew.

  "So what?" asked she, crying more bitterly than ever.

  "So like a wild girl, Ayacanora."

  Her hands dropped on her knees: a strong spasm ran through herthroat and bosom, and she fell on her knees before him, and looked upimploringly in his face.

  "Yes; wild girl--poor, bad wild girl. . . . But I will be English girlnow!"

  "Fine clothes will never make you English, my child," said Amyas.

  "No! not English clothes--English heart! Good heart, like yours! Yes, Iwill be good, and Sir John shall teach me!"

  "There's my good maid," said Amyas. "Sir John shall begin and teach youto-morrow."

  "No! Now! now! Ayacanora cannot wait. She will drown herself if she isbad another day! Come, now!"

  And she made him fetch Brimblecombe, heard the honest fellow patientlyfor an hour or more, and told Lucy that very night all that he had said.And from that day, whenever Jack went in to read and pray with thepoor sufferer, Ayacanora, instead of escaping on deck as before, stoodpatiently trying to make it all out, and knelt when he knelt, and triedto pray too--that she might have an English heart; and doubtless herprayers, dumb as they were, were not unheard.

  So went on a few days more, hopefully enough, without any outbreak, tillone morning, just after they had passed the Sargasso-beds. The shipwas taking care of herself; the men were all on deck under the awning,tinkering, and cobbling, and chatting; Brimblecombe was catechising hisfair pupil in the cabin; Amyas and Cary, cigar in mouth, were chattingabout all heaven and earth, and, above all, of the best way of gettingup a fresh adventure against the Spaniards as soon as they returned;while Amyas was pouring out to Will that dark hatred of the wholenation, that dark purpose of revenge for his brother and for Rose, whichhad settled down like a murky cloud into every cranny of his heart andmind. Suddenly there was a noise below; a scuffle and a shout,which made them both leap to their feet; and up on deck rushed JackBrimblecombe, holding his head on with both his hands.

  "Save me! save me from that she-fiend! She is possessed with a legion!She has broken my nose--torn out half my hair!--and I'm sure I have noneto spare! Here she comes! Stand by me, gentlemen both! Satanas, I defythee!" And Jack ensconced himself behind the pair, as Ayacanora whirledupon deck like a very Maenad, and, seeing Amyas, stopped short.

  "If you had defied Satan down below there," said Cary, with a laugh, "Isuspect he wouldn't have broken out on you so boldly, Master Jack."

  "I am innocent--innocent as the babe unborn! Oh! Mr. Cary! this is toobad of you, sir!" quoth Jack indignantly, while Amyas asked what was thematter.

  "He looked at me," said she, sturdily.

  "Well, a cat may look at a king."

  "But he sha'n't look at Ayacanora. Nobody shall but you, or I'll killhim!"

  In vain Jack protested his innocence of having even looked at her. Thefancy (and I verily believe it was nothing more) had taken possession ofher. She refused to return below to her lesson. Jack went off grumbling,minus his hair, and wore a black eye for a week after.

  "At all events," quoth Cary, re-lighting his cigar, "it's a fault on theright side."

  "God give me grace, or it may be one on the wrong side for me."

  "He will, old heart-of-oak!" said Cary, laying his arm around Amyas'sneck, to the evident disgust of Ayacanora, who went off to the side,got a fishing-line, and began amusing herself therewith, while the shipslipped on quietly and silently as ever, save when Ayacanora laughed andclapped her hands at the flying-fish scudding from the bonitos. At last,tired of doing nothing, she went forward to the poop-rail to listen toJohn Squire the armorer, who sat tinkering a headpiece, and humming asong, mutato nomine, concerning his native place--

  "Oh, Bideford is a pleasant place, it shines where it stands, And the more I look upon it, the more my heart it warms; For there are fair young lasses, in rows upon the quay, To welcome gallant mariners, when they come home from say."

  "'Tis Sunderland, John Squire, to the song, and not Bidevor," said hismate.

  "Well, Bidevor's so good as Sunderland any day, for all there'sno say-coals there blacking a place about; and makes just so goodharmonies, Tommy Hamblyn--

  "Oh, if I was a herring, to swim the ocean o'er, Or if I was a say-dove, to fly unto the shoor, To fly unto my true love, a waiting at the door, To wed her with a goold ring, and plough the main no moor."

  Here Yeo broke in--

  "Aren't you ashamed, John Squire, to your years, singing such carnalvanities, after all the providences you have seen? Let the songs of Zionbe in your mouth, man, if you must needs keep a caterwauling all daylike that."

  "You sing 'em yourself then, gunner."

  "Well," says Yeo, "and why not?" And out he pulled his psalm-book, andbegan a scrap of the grand old psalm--

  "Such as in ships and brittle barks Into the seas descend, Their merchandise through fearful floods To compass and to end; There men are forced to behold The Lord's works what they be; And in the dreadful deep the same, Most marvellous they see."

  "Humph!" said John Squire. "Very good and godly: but still I du likea merry catch now and then, I du. Wouldn't you let a body sing'Rumbelow'--even when he's heaving of the anchor?"

  "Well, I don't know," said Yeo; "but the Lord's people had betterpraise the Lord then too, and pray for a good voyage, instead of howlingabout--

  "A randy, dandy, dandy O, A whet of ale and brandy O, With a rumbelow and a Westward-ho! And heave, my mariners all, O!"

  "Is that fit talk for immortal souls? How does that child's-trade soundbeside the Psalms, John Squire?"

  Now it befell that Salvation Yeo, for the very purpose of holding up toridicule that time-honored melody, had put into it the true nasal twang,and rung it out as merrily as he had done perhaps twelve years before,when he got up John Oxenham's anchor in Plymouth Sound. And it befellalso that Ayacanora, as she stood by Amyas's side, watching the men, andtrying to make out their chat, heard it, and started; and then, half toherself, took up the strain, and sang it over again, word for word, inthe very same tune and tone.

  Salvation Yeo started in his turn, and turned deadly pale.

  "Who sung that?" he asked quickly.

  "The little maid here. She's coming on nicely in her English," saidAmyas.

  "The little maid?" said Yeo, turning paler still. "Why do you go aboutto scare an old servant, by talking of little maids, Captain Amyas?Well," he said aloud to himself, "as I am a s
inful saint, if I hadn'tseen where the voice came from, I could have sworn it was her; just aswe taught her to sing it by the river there, I and William Penberthy ofMarazion, my good comrade. The Lord have mercy on me!"

  All were silent as the grave whenever Yeo made any allusion to that lostchild. Ayacanora only, pleased with Amyas's commendation, went hummingon to herself--

  "And heave, my mariners all, O!"

  Yeo started up from the gun where he sat.

  "I can't abear it! As I live, I can't! You, Indian maiden, where did youlearn to sing that there?"

  Ayacanora looked up at him, half frightened by his vehemence, then atAmyas, to see if she had been doing anything wrong; and then turnedsaucily away, looked over the side, and hummed on.

  "Ask her, for mercy's sake--ask her, Captain Leigh!"

  "My child," said Amyas, speaking in Indian, "how is it you sing that somuch better than any other English? Did you ever hear it before?"

  Ayacanora looked up at him puzzled, and shook her head; and then--

  "If you tell Indian to Ayacanora, she dumb. She must be English girlnow, like poor Lucy."

  "Well then," said Amyas, "do you recollect, Ayacanora--do yourecollect--what shall I say? anything that happened when you were alittle girl?"

  She paused awhile; and then moving her hands overhead--

  "Trees--great trees like the Magdalena--always nothing but trees--wildand bad everything. Ayacanora won't talk about that."

  "Do you mind anything that grew on those trees?" asked Yeo, eagerly.

  She laughed. "Silly! Flowers and fruit, and nuts--grow on all trees, andmonkey-cups too. Ayacanora climbed up after them--when she was wild. Iwon't tell any more."

  "But who taught you to call them monkey-cups?" asked Yeo, trembling withexcitement.

  "Monkey's drink; mono drink."

  "Mono?" said Yeo, foiled on one cast, and now trying another. "How didyou know the beasts were called monos?"

  "She might have heard it coming down with us," said Cary, who had joinedthe group.

  "Ay, monos," said she, in a self-justifying tone. "Faces like littlemen, and tails. And one very dirty black one, with a beard, say Amen ina tree to all the other monkeys, just like Sir John on Sunday."

  This allusion to Brimblecombe and the preaching apes upset all but oldYeo.

  "But don't you recollect any Christians?--white people?"

  She was silent.

  "Don't you mind a white lady?"

  "Um?"

  "A woman, a very pretty woman, with hair like his?" pointing to Amyas.

  "No."

  "What do you mind, then, beside those Indians?" added Yeo, in despair.

  She turned her back on him peevishly, as if tired with the efforts ofher memory.

  "Do try to remember," said Amyas; and she set to work again at once.

  "Ayacanora mind great monkeys--black, oh, so high," and she held up herhand above her head, and made a violent gesture of disgust.

  "Monkeys? what, with tails?"

  "No, like man. Ah! yes--just like Cooky there--dirty Cooky!"

  And that hapless son of Ham, who happened to be just crossing themain-deck, heard a marlingspike, which by ill luck was lying at hand,flying past his ears.

  "Ayacanora, if you heave any more things at Cooky, I must have youwhipped," said Amyas, without, of course, any such intention.

  "I'll kill you, then," answered she, in the most matter-of-fact tone.

  "She must mean negurs," said Yeo; "I wonder where she saw them, now.What if it were they Cimaroons?"

  "But why should any one who had seen whites forget them, and yetremember negroes?" asked Cary.

  "Let us try again. Do you mind no great monkeys but those black ones?"asked Amyas.

  "Yes," she said, after a while,--"devil."

  "Devil?" asked all three, who, of course, were by no means free from thebelief that the fiend did actually appear to the Indian conjurors, suchas had brought up the girl.

  "Ay, him Sir John tell about on Sundays."

  "Save and help us!" said Yeo; "and what was he like unto?"

  She made various signs to intimate that he had a monkey's face, anda gray beard like Yeo's. So far so good: but now came a series ofmanipulations about her pretty little neck, which set all their fanciesat fault.

  "I know," said Cary, at last, bursting into a great laugh. "Sir Urianhad a ruff on, as I live! Trunk-hose too, my fair dame? Stop--I'll makesure. Was his neck like the senor commandant's, the Spaniard?"

  Ayacanora clapped her hands at finding herself understood, and thequestioning went on.

  "The 'devil' appeared like a monkey, with a gray beard, in aruff;--humph!--"

  "Ay!" said she in good enough Spanish, "Mono de Panama; viejo diablo dePanama."

  Yeo threw up his hands with a shriek--"Oh Lord of all mercies! Thosewere the last words of Mr. John Oxenham! Ay--and the devil is surelynone other than the devil Don Francisco Xararte! Oh dear! oh dear! ohdear! my sweet young lady! my pretty little maid! and don't you know me?Don't you know Salvation Yeo, that carried you over the mountains,and used to climb for the monkey-cups for you, my dear young lady? AndWilliam Penberthy too, that used to get you flowers; and your poor dearfather, that was just like Mr. Cary there, only he had a black beard,and black curls, and swore terribly in his speech, like a Spaniard, mydear young lady?"

  And the honest fellow, falling on his knees, covered Ayacanora's handswith kisses; while all the crew, fancying him gone suddenly mad, crowdedaft.

  "Steady, men, and don't vex him!" said Amyas. "He thinks that he hasfound his little maid at last."

  "And so do I, Amyas, as I live," said Cary.

  "Steady, steady, my masters all! If this turn out a wrong scent afterall, his wits will crack. Mr. Yeo, can't you think of any other token?"

  Yeo stamped impatiently. "What need then? it's her, I tell ye, andthat's enough! What a beauty she's grown! Oh dear! where were my eyesall this time, to behold her, and not to see her! 'Tis her very mortalself, it is! And don't you mind me, my dear, now? Don't you mindSalvation Yeo, that taught you to sing 'Heave my mariners all, O!'a-sitting on a log by the boat upon the sand, and there was a sight ofred lilies grew on it in the moss, dear, now, wasn't there? and we madeposies of them to put in your hair, now?"--And the poor old man ran onin a supplicating, suggestive tone, as if he could persuade the girlinto becoming the person whom he sought.

  Ayacanora had watched him, first angry, then amused, then attentive, andat last with the most intense earnestness. Suddenly she grew crimson,and snatching her hands from the old man's, hid her face in them, andstood.

  "Do you remember anything of all this, my child?" asked Amyas, gently.

  She lifted up her eyes suddenly to his, with a look of imploring agony,as if beseeching him to spare her. The death of a whole old life,the birth of a whole new life, was struggling in that beautiful face,choking in that magnificent throat, as she threw back her small head,and drew in her breath, and dashed her locks back from her temples, asif seeking for fresh air. She shuddered, reeled, then fell weeping onthe bosom, not of Salvation Yeo, but of Amyas Leigh.

  He stood still a minute or two, bearing that fair burden, ere he couldrecollect himself. Then,--

  "Ayacanora, you are not yet mistress of yourself, my child. You werebetter to go down, and see after poor Lucy, and we will talk about itall to-morrow."

  She gathered herself up instantly, and with eyes fixed on the deck slidthrough the group, and disappeared below.

  "Ah!" said Yeo, with a tone of exquisite sadness; "the young to theyoung! Over land and sea, in the forests and in the galleys, in battleand prison, I have sought her! And now!--"

  "My good friend," said Amyas, "neither are you master of yourself yet.When she comes round again, whom will she love and thank but you?"

  "You, sir! She owes all to you; and so do I. Let me go below, sir. Myold wits are shaky. Bless you, sir, and thank you for ever and ever!"

  And Yeo grasped Amyas's hand, and w
ent down to his cabin, from which hedid not reappear for many hours.

  From that day Ayacanora was a new creature. The thought that she wasan Englishwoman; that she, the wild Indian, was really one of thegreat white people whom she had learned to worship, carried in it someregenerating change: she regained all her former stateliness, and withit a self-restraint, a temperance, a softness which she had never shownbefore. Her dislike to Cary and Jack vanished. Modest and distant asever, she now took delight in learning from them about England andEnglish people; and her knowledge of our customs gained much from thesomewhat fantastic behaviour which Amyas thought good, for reasonsof his own, to assume toward her. He assigned her a handsome cabin toherself, always addressed her as madam, and told Cary, Brimblecombe, andthe whole crew that as she was a lady and a Christian, he expected themto behave to her as such. So there was as much bowing and scrapingon the poop as if it had been a prince's court: and Ayacanora, thoughsorely puzzled and chagrined at Amyas's new solemnity, contrived toimitate it pretty well (taking for granted that it was the right thing);and having tolerable masters in the art of manners (for both Amyas andCary were thoroughly well-bred men), profited much in all things, exceptin intimacy with Amyas, who had, cunning fellow, hit on this parade ofgood manners, as a fresh means of increasing the distance between himand her. The crew, of course, though they were a little vexed at losingtheir pet, consoled themselves with the thought that she was a "realborn lady," and Mr. Oxenham's daughter, too; and there was not a man onboard who did not prick up his ears for a message if she approached him,or one who would not have, I verily believe, jumped overboard to do hera pleasure.

  Only Yeo kept sorrowfully apart. He never looked at her, spoke to her,met her even, if he could. His dream had vanished. He had found her! andafter all, she did not care for him? Why should she?

  But it was hard to have hunted a bubble for years, and have it breakin his hand at last. "Set not your affections on things on the earth,"murmured Yeo to himself, as he pored over his Bible, in the vain hope offorgetting his little maid.

  But why did Amyas wish to increase the distance between himself andAyacanora? Many reasons might be given: I deny none of them. But themain one, fantastic as it may seem, was simply, that while she haddiscovered herself to be an Englishwoman, he had discovered her to be aSpaniard. If her father were seven times John Oxenham (and even that theperverse fellow was inclined to doubt), her mother was a Spaniard--Pah!one of the accursed race; kinswoman--perhaps, to his brother'smurderers! His jaundiced eyes could see nothing but the Spanish elementin her; or, indeed, in anything else. As Cary said to him once, using acant phrase of Sidney's, which he had picked up from Frank, all heavenand earth were "spaniolated," to him. He seemed to recollect nothing butthat Heaven had "made Spaniards to be killed, and him to kill them." Ifhe had not been the most sensible of John Bulls, he would certainly haveforestalled the monomania of that young Frenchman of rank, who, someeighty years after him, so maddened his brain by reading of the Spanishcruelties, that he threw up all his prospects and turned captain offilibusters in the West Indies, for the express purpose of ridding themof their tyrants; and when a Spanish ship was taken, used to relinquishthe whole booty to his crew, and reserve for himself only the pleasureof witnessing his victims' dying agonies.

  But what had become of that bird-like song of Ayacanora's which hadastonished them on the banks of the Meta, and cheered them many a timein their anxious voyage down the Magdalena? From the moment that shefound out her English parentage, it stopped. She refused utterly to singanything but the songs and psalms which she picked up from the English.Whether it was that she despised it as a relic of her barbarism, orwhether it was too maddening for one whose heart grew heavier andhumbler day by day, the nightingale notes were heard no more.

  So homeward they ran, before a favoring southwest breeze: but longere they were within sight of land, Lucy Passmore was gone to her restbeneath the Atlantic waves.