sons of Israel, it might fare ill
with us if the crew were to learn that there were 'secret Jews' on
board. See, some one is coming----. Be silent," and he pointed to one
who moved slowly toward them.

But Bernal laughed. "It is only Luis de Torres, the interpreter, one
of our own people. _Shalom Aleicha_," he addressed himself to the
newcomer, who answered, "_Aleichem Shalom_," but softly, glancing over
his shoulder as he did so.

"Even in the midst of the Sea of Darkness you fear to use our holy
tongue," taunted the physician. "We are no longer in Spain where the
very walls of our houses had ears to hear our _Shema_ and tongues to
betray us to the officers of the Inquisition when we failed to come to
their cursed masses." His face twisted with rage as he pointed to his
useless foot. "In Valencia I was denounced to the Inquisition,
tortured almost unto death. But I escaped with my life; and now
instead of spending my last days in peace in the land of my fathers I
have come on this mad voyage across a sea without shore." He laughed
harshly. "Yet even on these endless waves, I am safer than in the
pleasant land of Spain."

Luis de Torres, who had stood leaning over the vessel's side, turned
toward the speaker, his sensitive face showing pale and grave in the
light of the swaying lantern. "Ah, Bernal," he said sadly, "has not
the whole world become a great sea of endless waves for the unhappy
children of Israel?" He shuddered slightly and drew his rich cloak
more tightly about him. "I am a strong man; but I sicken and grow
faint when I think of the tens of thousands of our brethren we saw
scourged from the land of Spain even as we embarked and our three
vessels were about to leave the port."

"Truly," Alonzo muttered, "truly, even a strong man may wish to forget
what our eyes have seen. Night after night as I stand at my wheel I
can see them, old men and little children and women with their babes.
Where will they find rest?"

"There is no rest for Israel." It was Bernal who spoke in his sullen
passion. "'Twas the ninth of _Ab_ when our brethren were driven
forth--the ninth of _Ab_; the day on which our Temple fell. Then we
were scattered beneath the sky, but we thought at last that in the
land of Spain we had found a refuge. But there is no refuge for
Israel, no rest for Him until death."

The sad eyes of Luis de Torres glowed with a strange light. "Nay,
friend," he corrected gently, "the God of Israel will not fo