d.

"And you, Kit," continues he, "you'll get a guitar and play tunes for
us, as I take it you will keep us company still."

"Yes, you may count on me for that," says I.

"We shan't have Don Sanchez to play the tambour for us, but I wager I
shall beat it as well as he; though, seeing he owes us more than we owe
him, we might in reason call upon him, and--"

"No, no; only we three," says Moll.

"Aye, three's enough, in all conscience, and seeing we know a bit of the
language, we shall get on well enough without him. I do long, Moll, to
see you a-flinging over my shoulder, with your clappers going, your
pretty eye and cheek all aglow with pleasure, and a court full of senors
and caballeros crying 'Hole!' and casting their handkerchiefs at your
feet."

Moll fetched a long, fluttering sigh, and, turning to her father, says
in an absent way: "Yes, dear; yes. When shall we go?"

Then, falling to discussing particulars, Dawson, clasping his hands upon
his stomach, asked with a long face if at this season we were likely to
fall in with the equinoxes on our voyage, and also if we could not hit
some point of Spain so as to avoid crossing the mountains of Pyranee and
the possibility of falling again into the hands of brigands. To which I
replied that, knowing nothing of the northern part of Spain and its
people, we stood a chance of finding a rude climate, unsuitable to
travelling at this time of year, and an inhospitable reception, and
that, as our object was to reach, the South as quickly as possible, it
would be more to our advantage to find a ship going through the straits
which would carry us as far as Alicante or Valencia. And Moll supporting
my argument very vigorously, Dawson gave way with much less reluctance
than I expected at the outset. But, indeed, the good fellow seemed now
ready to make any sacrifice of himself so that he might see his Moll
joyous again.

When I entered his shop the next morning, I found him with his coat off,
cutting capers, a wooden platter in his hand for a tambourine, and the
sweat pouring down his face.

"I am a couple of stone or so too heavy for the boleros," gasps he,
coming to a stand, "but I doubt not, by the time we land at Alicante,
there'll not be an ounce too much of me."

Learning that a convoy for the Levant was about to set sail with the
next favourable wind from Chatham, we took horse and rode there that
afternoon, and by great good luck we found the Faithful Friend, a