Chapter XLI. In which the captive still continues his story

“Not fifteen days had gone by before our renegade had already bought a very good boat, able to carry more than thirty people; and, to make his business safe and give it color, he chose to make, as he did make, a voyage to a place called Sargel, which lies thirty leagues from Algiers in the direction of Oran, where there is a great trade in dried figs. He made this voyage two or three times, in company with the Tagarino I mentioned. In Barbary they call the Moors of Aragon Tagarinos, and those of Granada Mudéjares; and in the kingdom of Fez they call the Mudéjares Elches, and they are the people that king makes most use of in war.

“I say, then, that each time he passed with his boat he anchored in a little cove less than two crossbow shots from the garden where Zoraida waited; and there the renegade would very deliberately settle himself with the Moorish lads who pulled the oars, either to say the zalá or to rehearse in jest, as it were, what he meant to do in earnest; and so he would go to Zoraida’s garden and ask for fruit, and her father would give it to him without knowing who he was; and, though he would have liked to speak to Zoraida, as he told me afterward, and tell her that he was the one who by my order was to take her to the land of the Christians, and that she should be glad and easy in her mind, he never managed it, for Moorish women do not let themselves be seen by any Moor or Turk unless their husband or their father bids them. With Christian captives they allow dealings and conversation, even more than would be reasonable; and I should have been sorry if he had spoken to her, for perhaps it would have alarmed her to see that her affair was in the mouths of renegades. But God, who ordained it otherwise, gave no room to our renegade’s good intention; and he, seeing how safely he came and went to Sargel, and that he cast anchor when and how and where he pleased, and that the Tagarino, his partner, had no will but what his own ordered, and that I was now ransomed, and that all that was left was to find some Christians to pull the oars, told me to consider which ones I wished to bring with me, besides those who were ransomed, and to have them spoken to for the first Friday, which was when he had determined our departure should be. Seeing this, I spoke to twelve Spaniards, all of them stout oarsmen, and of those who could most freely leave the city; and it was no small thing to find so many at that juncture, for twenty ships were out raiding and had taken all the rowing hands with them, and these would not have been found had it not been that their master stayed home from raiding that summer to finish a galliot he had on the stocks. I told them nothing more than that on the first Friday, in the evening, they should slip out one by one, without drawing notice, and make their way toward Agi Morato’s garden, and wait for me there until I came. I gave each of them this message separately, with orders that, even if they saw other Christians there, they should say nothing to them except that I had told them to wait in that place.

“This step taken, there was another left for me to take, the one that mattered most to me: and that was to let Zoraida know how matters stood, so that she would be ready and on the alert and not take fright if we came upon her suddenly before the time when she might imagine the Christians’ boat could return. And so I resolved to go to the garden and see whether I could speak to her; and, on the pretext of gathering some herbs, one day before my departure I went there, and the first person I met was her father, who spoke to me in a language that is found all over Barbary, and even in Constantinople, between captives and Moors, which is neither Moorish nor Castilian nor the tongue of any one nation, but a jumble of every language, and with it we all make ourselves understood; I say, then, that in this kind of speech he asked me what I was looking for in that garden of his, and whose I was. I answered that I was the slave of Arnaúte Mamí (and this because I knew for very certain that he was a very great friend of his), and that I was looking for all sorts of herbs to make a salad. He asked me next whether I was a man held for ransom or not, and how much my master was asking for me. While we were in the midst of all these questions and answers, the beautiful Zoraida came out of the garden house, who had seen me long before; and, since Moorish women make no fuss at all about showing themselves to Christians, nor do they shy away from them, as I have said, she thought nothing of coming to where her father was with me; on the contrary, as soon as her father saw that she was coming, and coming slowly, he called her and bade her come up.

“It would be too much for me to tell now of the great beauty, the grace, the gallant and rich array in which my beloved Zoraida appeared before my eyes: I shall say only that there were more pearls hanging from her lovely throat, her ears, and her hair than there were hairs on her head. Round her ankles, which, as is their custom, she wore bare, she had two carcajes (for so they call anklets or foot bracelets in Moorish) of purest gold, set with so many diamonds that she told me afterward her father valued them at ten thousand doblas, and the ones she wore on her wrists were worth as much again. The pearls were many and very fine, for the greatest finery and pride of Moorish women is to adorn themselves with rich pearls and seed pearls; and so there are more pearls and seed pearls among the Moors than among all the other nations; and Zoraida’s father had the name of owning many, and the best there were in Algiers, and of having besides more than two hundred thousand Spanish escudos, of all of which she was mistress who is now mistress of me. Whether, in all this array, she was beautiful then or not, from the remnants left to her after so many hardships it may be guessed what she must have been in her prosperity. For it is well known that the beauty of some women has its days and seasons, and needs particular circumstances to diminish or increase it; and it is a natural thing that the passions of the mind should raise it or lower it, though most often they destroy it.

“I say, in short, that she came then adorned to the utmost and beautiful to the utmost, or at least she seemed to me the most beautiful I had ever seen till then; and with this, seeing what I owed her, I felt that I had before me a goddess from heaven come down to earth for my delight and my deliverance. As soon as she came up, her father told her in their language that I was a captive of his friend Arnaúte Mamí, and that I had come to look for salad. She took up the talk, and in that mixture of languages I have spoken of asked me whether I was a gentleman, and why I did not ransom myself. I told her that I had been ransomed already, and that from the price she could see how highly my master valued me, since fifteen hundred zoltanís had been paid for me. To which she replied: ‘Truly, if you belonged to my father, I would see to it that he did not let you go for twice as much again, because you Christians always lie in everything you say and make yourselves out to be poor to cheat the Moors.’ ‘That may well be, my lady,’ I answered her, ‘but truly I have dealt honestly with my master, and I deal and shall deal so with every person in the world.’ ‘And when are you going?’ said Zoraida. ‘Tomorrow, I believe,’ I said, ‘for there is a ship from France here that sets sail tomorrow, and I mean to go in her.’ ‘Is it not better,’ replied Zoraida, ‘to wait for ships to come from Spain, and go with them, and not with the French, who are not your friends?’ ‘No,’ I answered, ‘though if the news that a ship from Spain is already on its way is true, I will still wait for it, even though it is more certain that I shall leave tomorrow; for my longing to see myself in my own country, and with the people I love, is so great that it will not let me wait for any other chance, if it is slow in coming, however good it may be.’ ‘You must be married in your own country, no doubt,’ said Zoraida, ‘and that is why you want to go and be with your wife.’ ‘I am not married,’ I answered, ‘but I have given my word to marry as soon as I get there.’ ‘And is the lady you gave it to beautiful?’ said Zoraida. ‘So beautiful,’ I answered, ‘that, to praise her and tell you the truth, she looks very much like you.’ At this her father laughed heartily, and said: ‘Gualá, by Allah, Christian, she must be very beautiful if she looks like my daughter, who is the most beautiful in all this kingdom. If you don’t believe it, look at her well, and you will see that I am telling you the truth.’ Zoraida’s father acted as our interpreter for most of these words and speeches, being the better linguist; for, though she spoke the mongrel tongue that, as I have said, is used there, she made her meaning plain more by signs than by words.

“While we were in the midst of this and much other talk, a Moor came running up and shouted at the top of his voice that four Turks had jumped over the fences or walls of the garden and were picking the fruit, though it was not ripe. The old man took fright, and so did Zoraida, for the fear the Moors have of the Turks is common and almost natural, especially of the soldiers, who are so insolent and have such power over the Moors subject to them that they treat them worse than if they were their slaves. I say, then, that her father said to Zoraida: ‘Daughter, go back into the house and shut yourself in, while I go and speak to these dogs; and you, Christian, look for your herbs, and go in good time, and may Allah bring you safely to your country.’ I bowed, and he went off to look for the Turks, leaving me alone with Zoraida, who began to make as if to go where her father had sent her. But hardly had he disappeared among the trees of the garden when she, turning to me, her eyes full of tears, said to me: ‘Ámexi, Christian, ámexi?’ which means: “Are you going, Christian, are you going?” I answered her: ‘My lady, yes, but on no account without you: wait for me on the first jumá, and do not be frightened when you see us; for without any doubt we shall go to the land of the Christians.’

“I said this to her in such a way that she understood me very well in everything that passed between us; and, throwing one arm round my neck, she began with faltering steps to walk toward the house; and fortune willed, and it might have gone very ill had heaven not ordained it otherwise, that, as the two of us were going in the manner and posture I have told you, with her arm round my neck, her father, who was now coming back from sending the Turks away, saw us in the way and fashion in which we were going, and we saw that he had seen us; but Zoraida, quick-witted and sensible, would not take her arm from my neck; rather, she pressed nearer and rested her head against my chest, letting her knees give a little, giving clear signs and tokens that she was fainting, and I, for my part, made it appear that I was holding her up against my will. Her father came running to where we were, and, seeing his daughter in that state, asked her what was the matter; but, as she did not answer him, her father said: ‘No doubt she has fainted from the fright of these dogs’ coming in.’ And, taking her from my arms, he held her to his breast; and she, heaving a sigh, her eyes still wet with tears, said again: ‘Ámexi, Christian, ámexi’: “Go, Christian, go.” To which her father answered: ‘It does not matter, daughter, whether the Christian goes, for he has done you no harm, and the Turks are gone now. Let nothing frighten you, for there is nothing that can give you any trouble, since, as I have told you, the Turks went back the way they came at my request.’ ‘It was they, sir, who frightened her, as you have said,’ I said to her father; ‘but since she says I should go, I do not wish to trouble her: stay in peace, and, with your leave, I will come back to this garden for herbs if I need them; for, as my master says, there are none better for salad in any garden than in this one.’ ‘You may come back for all you want,’ answered Agi Morato, ‘for my daughter does not say this because you or any of the Christians were annoying her; but, meaning to say that the Turks should go, she said that you should go, or else because it was time for you to look for your herbs.’

“With this I took my leave of them both at once; and she, as if her soul were being torn out of her, went off with her father; and I, on the pretext of looking for the herbs, went all round the garden very thoroughly and at my leisure: I took good note of the ways in and out, and the strength of the house, and every advantage that might offer to make our whole business easier. This done, I came away and gave an account of all that had happened to the renegade and my companions; and I could hardly wait for the hour when I would see myself enjoying without alarm the happiness that fortune held out to me in the lovely and beautiful Zoraida.

“At last the time went by, and the day and the appointed hour we had so longed for arrived; and, all of us following the order and plan that, with sensible consideration and long debate, we had many times agreed on, we had the success we desired; for on the Friday that followed the day I spoke with Zoraida in the garden, our renegade, at nightfall, cast anchor with the boat almost opposite the place where the most beautiful Zoraida was. The Christians who were to pull the oars were ready by now and hidden in various places all round about. They were all in suspense and in high excitement, waiting for me, eager by now to fall upon the vessel that lay in front of them; for they knew nothing of the renegade’s arrangement, but thought that they would have to win and gain their freedom by force of arms, taking the lives of the Moors who were in the boat.

“It happened, then, that as soon as I and my companions showed ourselves, all the others who were hidden, seeing us, came up to us. By this time the city gates were already shut, and not a soul was to be seen in all that countryside. When we were together, we were in doubt whether it would be better to go first for Zoraida or first to overpower the bagarino Moors who pulled the oars in the boat. And, while we were in this doubt, our renegade came up to us, asking us what we were waiting for, for it was time now, and all his Moors were careless and most of them sleeping. We explained what was holding us back, and he said that what mattered most was to take the vessel first, which could be managed very easily and with no risk at all, and that afterward we could go for Zoraida. We all thought well of what he said; and so, without waiting any longer, with him as our guide, we reached the vessel, and he, jumping in first, laid hold of a cutlass and said in Moorish: ‘Let none of you move from here, unless you want it to cost you your life.’ By this time almost all the Christians had got aboard. The Moors, who were men of little spirit, seeing their captain speak in that way, were struck with terror, and, without a single one of them laying hand to his weapons, of which they had few or almost none, they let themselves be bound hand and foot by the Christians without a word; and the Christians did it very quickly, threatening the Moors that if they raised their voices in any way or manner they would put every one of them to the sword on the spot.

“This done, and half our men staying to guard them, those of us who were left, again with the renegade as our guide, went to Agi Morato’s garden; and good fortune would have it that, when we came to open the gate, it opened as easily as if it had not been locked; and so, in great quiet and silence, we reached the house without being heard by anyone. The most beautiful Zoraida was waiting for us at a window, and, as soon as she heard people, she asked in a low voice whether we were nizarani, as though she were saying or asking whether we were Christians. I answered yes, and that she should come down. When she recognized me, she did not wait a moment, for, without answering me a word, she came down in an instant, opened the door, and showed herself to all of us so beautiful and so richly dressed that I cannot do it justice. As soon as I saw her, I took one of her hands and began to kiss it, and the renegade did the same, and my two comrades; and the others, who did not know the story, did what they saw us doing, so that it looked for all the world as if we were thanking her and acknowledging her as the lady of our freedom. The renegade asked her in the Moorish tongue whether her father was in the garden. She answered that he was, and that he was asleep. ‘Then we shall have to wake him,’ replied the renegade, ‘and take him with us, and everything of value in this beautiful garden.’ ‘No,’ she said, ‘my father is not to be touched in any way, and in this house there is nothing but what I am taking with me, which is so much that there will be enough to leave you all rich and content; wait a little and you will see.’ And, saying this, she went back in, saying she would return very soon, and that we should keep still and make no noise. I asked the renegade what had passed between them, and he told me, and I said to him that nothing at all was to be done beyond what Zoraida wished; and just as she was coming back, laden with a little chest full of gold escudos, so many that she could barely hold it up, ill luck would have it that her father woke in the meantime and heard the noise that was going on in the garden; and, looking out of the window, he knew at once that all those who were in it were Christians; and, raising great, loud, and furious shouts, he began to cry out in Arabic: ‘Christians, Christians! Thieves, thieves!’ and at those cries we all found ourselves thrown into the greatest and most fearful confusion. But the renegade, seeing the danger we were in, and how much it mattered to him to bring off that enterprise before anyone heard, went up with the greatest speed to where Agi Morato was, and some of us went with him; for I did not dare to leave Zoraida, who had dropped into my arms as if in a faint. In short, those who went up managed so well that in a moment they came down with Agi Morato, bringing him with his hands tied and a handkerchief in his mouth that would not let him speak a word, threatening him that a single word would cost him his life. When his daughter saw him, she covered her eyes so as not to see him, and her father was dumbfounded, not knowing how willingly she had put herself into our hands. But, our feet being more needed then than anything, we made for the boat with all diligence and speed; for those who had stayed in it were already waiting for us, afraid that some mishap had befallen us.

“It could hardly have been two hours past nightfall when we were all in the boat, where Zoraida’s father had the cord taken from his hands and the cloth from his mouth; but the renegade told him again not to speak a word, or they would take his life. When he saw his daughter there, he began to sigh most tenderly, and all the more when he saw that I was holding her close in my arms, and that she, without resisting, complaining, or drawing away, stayed quietly where she was; but, for all that, he kept silent, lest they carry out the many threats the renegade was making him. Zoraida, then, seeing herself in the boat at last, and that we were about to put our oars in the water, and seeing her father there and the other Moors who were bound, told the renegade to ask me to do her the favor of letting those Moors go and setting her father free, for she would sooner throw herself into the sea than see a father who had loved her so much carried off captive before her eyes and on her account. The renegade told me this; and I answered that I was quite willing; but he replied that it would not do, because, if they left them there, they would at once raise the countryside and stir up the city, and cause some light frigates to come out in search of them and cut them off by land and sea, so that we could not escape; and that what could be done was to give them their freedom on reaching the first Christian land. We all agreed to this, and Zoraida, who was told of it, with the reasons that moved us not to do at once what she wished, was satisfied too; and then, in joyful silence and with cheerful diligence, each of our stout oarsmen took up his oar, and, with our whole hearts commending ourselves to God, we set out to make our way toward the islands of Majorca, which is the nearest Christian land.

“But because a little north wind was blowing and the sea was rather rough, it was not possible to hold our course for Majorca, and we were forced to let ourselves run along the coast toward Oran, not without great uneasiness, for fear of being discovered from the town of Sargel, which lies on that coast sixty miles from Algiers. And we were afraid, too, of meeting in those waters one of the galliots that commonly come with merchandise from Tetuán, though each of us for himself, and all of us together, reckoned that, if we met a merchant galliot, so long as it was not one of those that go raiding, not only would we not be lost, but we would take a vessel in which we could finish our voyage more safely. All through the voyage Zoraida had her head between my hands, to keep from seeing her father, and I could hear her calling on Lela Marién to help us.

“We must have gone a good thirty miles when dawn found us some three musket shots off the land, all of which we saw to be deserted, with no one to discover us; but, for all that, we pulled hard to get a little farther out to sea, which was now somewhat calmer; and, when we had gone out almost two leagues, orders were given to row by turns while we ate something, for the boat was well stocked; though those who were rowing said that this was no time to take any rest, that those who were not rowing should feed them, for they would not let go of the oars on any account. This was done, and at that point a fair wind began to blow, which obliged us at once to make sail and leave off rowing and steer for Oran, since no other course was possible. Everything was done with the greatest speed; and so, under sail, we went along at more than eight miles an hour, with no other fear but that of meeting some raiding vessel.

“We gave the bagarino Moors something to eat, and the renegade comforted them, telling them that they were not going as captives, that at the first chance they would be set free. The same was said to Zoraida’s father, who answered: ‘Anything else I might hope for and believe of your generosity and good conduct, O Christians, but as for setting me free, do not take me for so simple as to imagine it; for you never put yourselves in danger of taking my freedom from me only to give it back so freely, especially knowing who I am and the profit that may come to you from giving it back; and that profit, if you will put a name to it, I here and now offer you, whatever you like for myself and for this unhappy daughter of mine, or else for her alone, who is the greater and the better part of my soul.’ Saying this, he began to weep so bitterly that he moved us all to pity and forced Zoraida to look at him; and she, seeing him weep, was so softened that she rose from my feet and went to embrace her father, and, laying her face against his, the two of them began such tender weeping that many of us who were there joined them in it. But when her father saw her dressed for a feast and with so many jewels on her, he said to her in their language: ‘What is this, daughter? Yesterday at nightfall, before this terrible misfortune we find ourselves in befell us, I saw you in your ordinary everyday clothes; and now, without your having had time to dress, and without your having had any happy news to celebrate by adorning and decking yourself, I see you arrayed in the best clothes I knew how to give you and could give you when fortune was kinder to us. Answer me this, for it leaves me more bewildered and astonished than the misfortune itself in which I find myself.’

“Everything the Moor said to his daughter the renegade explained to us, and she did not answer him a word. But when he saw at one side of the boat the little chest in which she used to keep her jewels, which he knew very well he had left in Algiers and not brought to the garden, he was more bewildered still, and asked her how that chest had come into our hands and what was inside it. To which the renegade, without waiting for Zoraida to answer him, replied: ‘Do not tire yourself, sir, asking Zoraida, your daughter, so many things, for with one answer I shall satisfy you on all of them; and so I would have you know that she is a Christian, and that she is the one who has been the file to our chains and the freedom of our captivity; she comes here of her own free will, as glad, to my thinking, to see herself in this state as one who comes out of darkness into light, out of death into life, and out of suffering into glory.’ ‘Is what this man says true, daughter?’ said the Moor. ‘It is,’ answered Zoraida. ‘So, in truth,’ replied the old man, ‘you are a Christian, and the one who has put her father into the power of his enemies?’ To which Zoraida answered: ‘A Christian I am, but I am not the one who has brought you to this pass, for my desire never reached as far as leaving you or doing you harm, but only as far as doing myself good.’ ‘And what good is it that you have done yourself, daughter?’ ‘That,’ she answered, ‘you must ask Lela Marién, for she will know how to tell you better than I.’

“Hardly had the Moor heard this when, with incredible speed, he threw himself headfirst into the sea, where without any doubt he would have drowned had not the long and cumbersome robe he wore kept him afloat for a little. Zoraida cried out to us to pull him out, and so we all rushed to him at once and, catching hold of his almalafa, pulled him out half drowned and senseless, at which Zoraida felt such grief that she wept over him tenderly and sorrowfully, as if he were already dead. We turned him face down, he brought up a great deal of water, and came to himself at the end of two hours, in which, the wind having changed, we had to turn back toward the land and pull hard at the oars so as not to run onto it; but our good fortune had it that we reached an inlet formed beside a small promontory or cape which the Moors call that of La Cava Rumía, which in our language means the wicked Christian woman; and it is a tradition among the Moors that in that place lies buried the Cava, through whom Spain was lost to the Moors, for cava in their language means wicked woman, and rumía, Christian; and they even hold it a bad omen to come to anchor there when necessity forces them to it, for they never do so without such necessity; though for us it was no shelter of a wicked woman but a safe harbor for our deliverance, so rough was the sea.

“We posted our sentries on land and never let the oars out of our hands; we ate some of what the renegade had provided, and prayed to God and Our Lady with all our hearts to help us and favor us, so that we might bring so happy a beginning to a happy end. At Zoraida’s entreaty, orders were given for us to put her father and all the other Moors who were bound there ashore, for she had not the heart, nor could her tender breast endure, to see her father bound and those of her own country prisoners before her eyes. We promised her to do so at the time of our departure, since there was no danger in leaving them in that place, which was uninhabited. Our prayers were not so vain that heaven did not hear them; for in our favor the wind soon turned and the sea grew calm, inviting us to go joyfully on again with the voyage we had begun.

“Seeing this, we untied the Moors and put them ashore one by one, at which they were astonished; but when we came to land Zoraida’s father, who was now fully himself again, he said: ‘Why do you think, Christians, that this wicked female is glad that you are setting me free? Do you think it is out of the pity she feels for me? No, indeed, but she does it because of the hindrance my presence would be to her when she wants to carry out her wicked desires; and do not think that what has moved her to change her religion is her understanding that yours is better than ours, but her knowing that in your country lewdness is practiced more freely than in ours.’ And, turning to Zoraida, as I and another Christian held her by both arms so that she would not do anything rash, he said to her: ‘O infamous girl and ill-advised child! Where are you going, blind and witless, in the power of these dogs, our natural enemies? Cursed be the hour in which I begot you, and cursed be the comforts and delights in which I have reared you!’ But, seeing that he was in no way of finishing soon, I made haste to put him ashore, and from there, shouting, he went on with his curses and laments, praying Muhammad to pray Allah to destroy us, confound us, and make an end of us; and when, having set sail, we could no longer hear his words, we saw his deeds, which were tearing out his beard, plucking at his hair, and dragging himself along the ground; but once he raised his voice so loud that we could make out what he was saying: ‘Come back, beloved daughter, come back to land, for I forgive you everything; give those men the money, for it is theirs already, and come back to comfort this sad father of yours, who will leave his life on this deserted sand if you leave him!’ All of which Zoraida heard, and all of which she felt and wept over, and she could find no word to say or answer him but this: ‘May it please Allah, my father, that Lela Marién, who has been the cause of my becoming a Christian, may comfort you in your sorrow. Allah knows well that I could do nothing other than what I have done, and that these Christians owe nothing to my good will; for, even if I had wished not to come with them and to stay at home, it would have been impossible for me, such was the haste my soul was in to carry out this deed, which seems to me as good as you, beloved father, judge it to be bad.’ This she said when her father could no longer hear her, nor could we see him any more; and so, while I comforted Zoraida, we all attended to our voyage, which the wind itself made so easy for us that we took it for certain we would see ourselves on the shores of Spain at dawn the next day.

“But, since good seldom or never comes pure and simple, without being accompanied or followed by some evil to disturb or alarm it, our fortune willed, or perhaps the curses the Moor had heaped on his daughter, which are always to be feared from any father whatever; it willed, I say, that when we were already out on the open sea, and almost three hours of the night had passed, as we were going with the sail spread full and the oars lashed, for the fair wind spared us the labor of needing them, by the light of the moon, which was shining brightly, we saw close to us a square-rigged ship, which, with all sails spread and the helm put a little to windward, was crossing ahead of us; and this so close that we were forced to strike sail so as not to run into her, and they, for their part, put the helm hard over to give us room to pass.

“They had come to the ship’s side to ask us who we were, and where we were bound, and where we came from; but, since they asked us this in French, our renegade said: ‘Let no one answer; for these, no doubt, are French corsairs, who take whatever they can lay hands on.’ Because of this warning no one answered a word; and, when we had gone on a little ahead, so that the ship was now to leeward, they suddenly fired two pieces of artillery, and, as it seemed, both had chain shot in them, for one of them sheared our mast through the middle and sent it down into the sea along with the sail; and the next moment, firing another piece, the ball struck our boat amidships and split it wide open without doing any other harm; but, when we saw ourselves going to the bottom, we all began to cry out loudly for help and to beg those on the ship to take us in, for we were sinking. Then they struck sail, and, lowering their skiff or boat into the sea, as many as twelve Frenchmen, well armed, with their harquebuses and their matches lit, got into it and so came alongside ours; and, seeing how few we were and that the vessel was going down, they took us in, saying that this had happened to us for our discourtesy in not answering them. Our renegade took the chest with Zoraida’s riches and threw it into the sea without anyone noticing what he was doing. In short, we all went over to the French, who, after informing themselves of everything they wanted to know about us, stripped us of everything we had, as though they were our mortal enemies, and from Zoraida they took even the carcajes she wore on her ankles. But the distress they were causing Zoraida did not grieve me so much as the fear I had that from taking her very rich and precious jewels they would go on to take the jewel that was worth most and that she valued most. But the desires of those people go no further than money, and of that their greed is never sated; and it went so far then that they would have taken even our captives’ clothes if they had been of any use to them. And there was an opinion among them that they should throw us all into the sea wrapped in a sail, because they meant to trade in some Spanish ports under the name of Bretons, and if they took us alive they would be punished when their theft was discovered. But the captain, who was the one who had stripped my beloved Zoraida, said that he was satisfied with the prize he had, and that he did not want to touch at any port in Spain, but to pass through the Strait of Gibraltar by night, or however he could, and go to La Rochelle, where he had sailed from; and so they agreed to give us their ship’s skiff, and everything we needed for the short voyage that remained to us, as they did the next day, when we were now in sight of the land of Spain; at which sight all our sorrows and poverty were utterly forgotten, as if they had never befallen us: so great is the joy of regaining one’s lost freedom.

“It might have been about noon when they set us in the boat with two kegs of water and a little biscuit; and the captain, stirred by some pity or other, I cannot say what, gave the most beautiful Zoraida, as she went aboard, as many as forty gold escudos, and would not let his soldiers take from her these very clothes she has on now. We got into the vessel; we thanked them for the good they were doing us, showing ourselves more grateful than aggrieved; they stood out to sea, following the course for the strait; we, looking to no other north star than the land that showed itself before us, made such haste at the oars that by sunset we were so close that we could well have reached it, as it seemed to us, before it was very late at night; but, because the moon did not show that night and the sky was dark, and because we did not know the place we were at, it did not seem safe to us to run ashore, as many of us thought we should, saying that we ought to land, even if it were on some rocks and far from any town, for in that way we would put to rest the fear we reasonably had that corsair vessels from Tetuán might be about, which leave Barbary at nightfall and are off the coasts of Spain by dawn, and commonly take a prize and go back home to sleep. But of the opposing opinions the one that was adopted was that we should draw near little by little, and, if the calm of the sea allowed it, land wherever we could.

“This was done, and it must have been a little before midnight when we reached the foot of a huge and very high mountain, not so close to the sea that it did not leave a little space where we could land comfortably. We ran onto the sand, went ashore, kissed the ground, and, with tears of the most joyful happiness, we all gave thanks to God, our Lord, for the incomparable good he had done us. We took out of the boat the provisions it held, hauled it up on land, and climbed a very long way up the mountain, for, even being where we were, we could not yet set our hearts at rest, nor could we quite believe that it was Christian land that now bore us up. Day dawned later, to my thinking, than we would have wished. We climbed the whole mountain to see whether any town could be seen from there, or any shepherds’ huts; but, however far we strained our eyes, we saw neither town, nor person, nor path, nor road. For all that, we resolved to go on inland, for it could not be but that we would soon come across someone who would tell us where we were. But what weighed on me most was watching Zoraida make her way on foot over such rough country; for, though I sometimes carried her on my shoulders, my weariness wearied her more than her rest rested her; and so she would never again let me take that labor on myself; and, with great patience and signs of cheerfulness, I always leading her by the hand, we must have gone a little less than a quarter of a league when the sound of a small bell reached our ears, a clear sign that there were flocks somewhere close by; and, all of us looking carefully to see whether anyone could be seen, we saw a young shepherd at the foot of a cork oak, who with great calm and unconcern was whittling a stick with a knife. We shouted, and he, raising his head, sprang nimbly to his feet; and, as we learned afterward, the first who came into his sight were the renegade and Zoraida, and, since he saw them in Moorish dress, he thought all Barbary was upon him; and, plunging with amazing speed into the wood ahead, he began to raise the loudest shouts in the world, crying: ‘Moors, there are Moors in the land! Moors, Moors! To arms, to arms!’

“At these cries we were all at a loss, and did not know what to do with ourselves; but, considering that the shepherd’s cries would rouse the countryside, and that the coast cavalry would soon come to see what it was, we agreed that the renegade should strip off his Turkish clothes and put on a gilecuelco, or captive’s jacket, which one of us gave him at once, though it left that man in his shirt; and so, commending ourselves to God, we went along the same road we had seen the shepherd take, expecting at every moment that the coast cavalry would fall upon us. And our thought did not deceive us, for not even two hours could have passed when, having come out of that brushwood onto a plain, we caught sight of as many as fifty horsemen, who were coming toward us at great speed at a half gallop; and, as soon as we saw them, we stood still and waited for them; but, when they came up and saw, instead of the Moors they were looking for, so many poor Christians, they were at a loss, and one of them asked us whether we were by any chance the reason a shepherd had raised the call to arms. ‘Yes,’ I said; and, as I was about to begin telling him what had happened to me, and where we came from and who we were, one of the Christians who came with us recognized the horseman who had asked us the question, and said, without letting me say another word: ‘Thanks be to God, gentlemen, who has brought us to so good a place! For, if I am not mistaken, the land we are treading is that of Vélez Málaga, unless the years of my captivity have taken from my memory the recollection that you, sir, who are asking us who we are, are Pedro de Bustamante, my uncle.’ Hardly had the Christian captive said this when the horseman threw himself from his horse and came to embrace the young man, saying to him: ‘Nephew of my soul and of my life, I know you now, and I have wept for you as dead, I and my sister, your mother, and all your family, who are still alive; and God has been pleased to give them life so that they may enjoy the pleasure of seeing you: we knew already that you were in Algiers, and from the signs and look of your clothes, and those of all this company, I gather that you have had a miraculous deliverance.’ ‘So it is,’ answered the young man, ‘and there will be time for us to tell you all of it.’

“The moment the horsemen grasped that we were Christian captives, they got down from their saddles, and every one of them offered us his own to carry us to the city of Vélez Málaga, which was a league and a half from there. Some of them went back to bring the boat to the city, once we had said where it lay; others mounted us on their cruppers behind them, and Zoraida rode on the crupper of the Christian’s uncle’s horse. The whole town came out to meet us, for they had already heard the news of our coming from someone who had ridden on ahead. They did not marvel at seeing captives freed or Moors made captive, for all the people of that coast are used to seeing both the one and the other; but they marveled at the beauty of Zoraida, which at that moment and season was at its height, as much from the weariness of the journey as from the joy of seeing herself at last in the land of the Christians, with no fear of being lost; and this had brought such color into her face that, unless my love deceived me then, I will venture to say that there was no more beautiful creature in the world; at least, none that I had seen.

“We went straight to the church to give thanks to God for the mercy we had received; and, as soon as Zoraida went in, she said that there were faces there that looked like Lela Marién’s. We told her they were images of her, and the renegade explained to her as best he could what they signified, so that she might worship them as though each of them were truly the very Lela Marién who had spoken to her. She, who has a good understanding and an easy, clear nature, at once understood everything that was told her about the images. From there they took us and divided us all among different houses in the town; but the renegade, Zoraida, and I were taken by the Christian who came with us to the house of his parents, who were moderately well provided with the goods of fortune, and they treated us with as much love as their own son.

“We stayed six days in Vélez, at the end of which the renegade, having drawn up the statement of everything he needed, went to the city of Granada to be restored, through the Holy Inquisition, to the most holy bosom of the Church; the other freed Christians went off each where he thought best; Zoraida and I alone were left, with nothing but the escudos the Frenchman’s courtesy had given Zoraida, out of which I bought this animal she rides on; and, serving her until now as father and squire, and not as husband, we are going with the intention of seeing whether my father is alive, or whether either of my brothers has had better fortune than mine; though, since heaven has made me Zoraida’s companion, it seems to me that no other lot could come to me, however good it might be, that I would value more. The patience with which Zoraida bears the hardships that poverty brings with it, and the desire she shows to see herself a Christian at last, are such and so great that they fill me with admiration and move me to serve her all the days of my life; though the happiness I feel at seeing myself hers and her mine is troubled and undone by not knowing whether I shall find in my own country any corner in which to shelter her, and whether time and death will have made such a change in the fortune and the lives of my father and my brothers that, if they are no longer living, there will scarcely be anyone to recognize me. I have nothing more to tell you of my story, gentlemen; whether it is pleasing and out of the ordinary, let your good judgment decide; for my part I can say that I would have liked to tell it to you more briefly, though the fear of wearying you has kept more than a few details off my tongue.”