"'And Theresa?' exclaimed I.

"'Carried off with the others,' he replied.

"I heard no more of this revelation, and for some minutes--like the
warrior pierced to the heart by a poisoned arrow--was completely
deprived of all consciousness.

"When I came back to myself tears flooded my face, and brought me some
relief: but suddenly I resumed my courage, and felt that no time was
to be lost. I ran to the shore where I had left my pirogue, which
I unfastened, and, as quickly as oars could pull me, I pursued the
Malays, not in the hope of wresting Theresa from them, but resolved
upon partaking of her captivity and misfortune. We better endure the
sufferings we have to undergo when we are two together than when we
are alone. He who had brought me the fatal tidings saw me start, and
thought I had lost my senses; the fact is, my countenance bore all the
traces of mental alienation. Methought I was inspired by the grand
master-spirit; my pirogue bounded along the troubled waters of the
ocean as if it possessed wings. One would have said that I had twenty
rowers at my disposal, and I cleft the waves with the same rapidity
as the halcyon's flight, when wafted away by the hurricane. After
a short time's laborious and painful rowing I at last came in view
of the corsairs who were carrying away my treasure. At the sight my
strength was renewed again, and I was soon up with them. When I was
side by side with them I informed them, in words the most feeling,
and which sprang from my poor lacerated heart, that Theresa was my
wife, and that I would prefer being a slave with her to abandoning
her. The pirates listened to my voice, stifled by my tears, and took
me on board, not from commiseration, but from cruelty. In fact, I was
a slave more added to their numbers: why should they have repulsed
me? A few days after that fatal evening we arrived at Jolo. There the
division of the slaves was made, and the master into whose hands we
fell took us away with him. Was it, then, to undergo a like destiny
that I had dived so early in the morning for a pearl for the Infant
Jesus of Zebou? Yes, was it for this that I had made a vow to bring
him the first pearl I should find? Notwithstanding my profound sorrow
I murmured not, neither did I regret my offering. The Lord was the
master! His will should be done."

Here Relempago paused, and looked towards Heaven with a smile of
angelic resignation, and we then remarked upon his face the furrows
tr