he fourteenth day we sighted land where never
we looked to find any, and came to a large island, thickly wooded,
with high mountains in the midst of it.

"Coasting this island we soon arrived off a pretty deep bay, lined
with cedar-trees: and here Master Machin had the boat lowered and bore
his mistress to land: for the voyage had crazed her, and plainly her
time for this world was not long. Six of us went with them in the
boat, the rest staying by the ship, which was anchored not a mile from
shore. There we made for the poor lady a couch of cedar-boughs with a
spare sail for awning, and her lover sat beside her for two nights and
a day, holding of her hand and talking with her, and wiping her lips
or holding the cup to them when she moaned in her thirst. But at dawn
of the second day she died.

"Then we, who slept on the beach at a little distance, being waked by
his terrible cry, looked up and supposed he had called out for the
loss of the ship. Because the traitors on board of her, considering
how that they had the lady's wealth, had weighed or slipped anchor in
the night (for certainly there was not wind enough to drag by), and
now the ship was nowhere in sight. But when we came to Master Machin
he took no account of our news: only he sat like a statue and stared
at the sea, and then at his dead lady, and 'Well,' he said; 'is she
gone?' We knew not whether he meant the lady or the ship: nor would he
taste any food though we offered it, but turned his face away.

"So that evening we buried the body, and five days later we buried
Master Machin beside her, with a wooden cross at their heads. Then,
not willing to perish on the island, we caught and killed four of the
sheep which ran wild thereon, and having stored the boat with their
flesh (and it was bitter to taste), and launched it, steered, as well
as we could contrive, due east. And so on the eleventh day we were
cast on the coast near to Mogador: but two had died on the way. Here
(for we were starving and could offer no fight) some Moors took us,
and carrying us into the town, sold us into that slavery in which I
have passed all my miserable life since. What became of the _Mary
Radclyf_ I have never heard: nor of the three who came ashore with me
have I had tidings since the day we were sold."

Here Zarco came to the end of his reading: and facing again on Master
d'Arfet (who sat pulling his fingers while his mouth worked as if he
chewed something) I took up t