ion and exposure, when their bodies had
been cast from the cliffs into the sea.

When Pedro and his companions had somewhat recovered they led us to
where their wretched settlement had been made among a clump of gaunt,
wind-swept trees, and, in pity for their forlorn condition, I ordered
all the provisions we had in the boat to be brought for their
refreshment. Donna Isabel threw herself at my feet, clasping my knees,
and covering my hands with kisses. She had lost all trace of the proud
beauty she had formerly possessed. Her skin had been burnt almost black
by the sun, and a mane of tangled white hair surrounded what had once
been a noble countenance. Only her eyes retained their brightness, and
at thought of rescue, and possible revenge upon her enemy Montbar, they
seemed to glow with unnatural fire.

I knew that Hartog would not have wished me to leave these wretched
outcasts to their fate, however little deserving they may have been of
our sympathy, so I invited them to accompany us back to the ship. They
came protesting they would henceforth be our slaves, ready, in all
things, to obey our slightest behest. But I had little faith in their
promises when their necessities should be relieved.

Hartog, as may well be imagined, was considerably surprised when we
returned on board with the remnant of the Spanish settlement in such
sorry plight, but he approved of what I had done in bringing them off
the island. They were sent forward, where they received every
attention. Donna Isabel was the only one allowed to berth in the cabin.
We had no women's dress on board, but we found her warm clothing, in
which she appeared as a man. After a while she recovered her good
looks, and we found her companionship agreeable.

A week later we came to an island which promised more favourable
conditions than the one we had just left, and where we obtained a
supply of good water for our tanks.

CHAPTER XLIV

THE ISLANDS OF ARMENIO

It was now brought home to me that Donna Isabel Barreto was henceforth
to play no unimportant part in the prosecution of our voyage. She had
recovered her good looks, and although she was older than any of us on
board the "Golden Seahorse", and probably ten years older than Hartog,
she nevertheless exerted an influence over the captain which I could
see he found it impossible to resist. Donna Isabel had once more
resumed her feminine attire, having stitched together for herself a
wardrobe from th