_Wherein Rutilio continues his Story._
"The first thing that offered itself to my sight was the body of a
barbarian hanging to a tree, by which I knew that I was in a country
of savages, and immediately fear placed before my eyes a thousand
different modes of death. Not knowing precisely which to dread, I
expected and feared them all by turns. At last, since necessity is said
to be the mother of invention, I bethought myself of an experiment,
extraordinary enough; this was, to pull the dead barbarian off his
bough, and having taken off all my own clothes, which I buried in the
sand, to dress myself in his, which easily fitted, seeing they were
made only of the skins of animals, not cut or fashioned in any way,
but fastened round the waist, as you have seen. To conceal my foreign
tongue, and that I might not be known to be a stranger, I pretended
to be deaf and dumb, and in this guise I proceeded further into the
island, jumping and making fantastic capers in the air.
"At a short distance I perceived a great number of the barbarians who
flocked round me, and one and all asked (as I have since known) who I
was, and whence I came, and whither I was going. I answered by keeping
silence and making all the signs I could devise, again beginning to
jump and cut capers in the air. I was followed by all the boys, let me
go where I would, and thus I passed for a dumb barbarian, and the boys
gave me food in return for my capers and merry-andrew tricks. In this
way I have lived three years among them, and might pass all my life
without being discovered. I paid great attention to their language,
and learned to speak it very tolerably. I heard the prophecy about the
duration of their kingdom, which had been pronounced by a very ancient
and wise man, in whom they placed implicit credit. Many men have I
seen sacrificed in order to accomplish it, many maidens I have seen
purchased for the same purpose, until the conflagration of the island
which you, sirs, have witnessed with your own eyes.
"I escaped from the flames and hastened to warn the prisoners in the
dungeon, where you all no doubt have been. I saw these boats and flew
to the shore, where in your generous bosoms I found an answer to my
entreaties, and was received on board by you, for which I thank you
with my whole heart; and now I put my trust in Heaven, since we have
been delivered from so many and such great dangers, that we may be
favoured with a happy and prosperous voyage."
Here Rutilio ceased speaking, leaving his hearers wondering and much
interested by all he had told.
Day came on, sharp and cold, stormy, and threatening a snow-storm.
Auristella now gave Periander something that Clelia had delivered into
her hands the night on which she died. It was two waxen balls, one
of which enclosed a magnificent diamond cross of inestimable value;
the other contained two pearls, also of immense price. These jewels
showed that Periander and Auristella were persons of great consequence,
although this was more plainly proved by their noble bearing and good
manners. As the day advanced, Antonio made a little excursion inland,
but could discover nothing but high mountains covered with snow, and
returning to the boats, he said, the island seemed uninhabited, and he
thought it would be better for them to seek elsewhere some land where
they might be sheltered from the extreme cold that threatened them,
and to provide themselves with food of which they should shortly stand
in need. The boats were accordingly launched into the sea, and they
all embarked and directed their course towards another island they
discovered not very far off. As they were making way with all the speed
two oars could accomplish, for each boat had no more, a voice, low and
melodious, was heard to proceed from one of the two other boats, so
sweet that they all listened to it with attention. It was remarked,
especially by the elder Antonio, that the song was in the Portuguese
tongue, which he understood perfectly. The voice ceased, but shortly
after began again to sing in Castilian, in time to the motion of the
oars, which impelled the boats gently through a tranquil sea; the words
he sang were as follows.
Upon a tranquil sea
With fav'ring winds
And starry sky,
And by a pleasant way,
Unknown, yet sure,
Thy strange and wondrous bark,
Her course shall ply,
Borne onwards to a port,
Safe and secure.
Onwards direct and straight
Her course she steers,
Nor upon Scylla, nor Charybdis driven,
Nor hidden rocks,
Nor secret perils, fears,
Honour, the end and aim, for which she thus hath striv'n.
Let not thine efforts fail,
Even though hopeless seem,
The distant haven;
Nor once remit thy toil,
Nor ever slacken sail.
True love can never change,
And only he,
Will prosp'rous be,
Who firm and true remains,
Nor ever seeks to range.
Ricla, as the voice ceased, said, "This songster must needs be an
idle soft creature, who at such a time as this fills the air with his
voice," but Periander and Auristella judged otherwise. _They_ thought
the singer was more of a lover than an idle fellow. Those who love
quickly recognize the passion in another, and seek fellowship with them
who know how to pity and sympathize with their own weaknesses. So with
the leave of the rest of the party in the boat, although it was hardly
necessary to ask it, they requested the singer to step into their boat,
as much to enjoy hearing his voice better as to learn his history, for
it was evident that a person who could sing at such a time must either
feel a great deal, or not at all.
The boats joined, and the singer stepped from his into that where
Periander and his party were, who all received him very courteously.
As he entered, the new comer said, half in Portuguese and half in
Castilian, "I owe to Heaven and to you, and to my voice, this agreeable
change for the better into your boat; albeit I believe I shall not long
encumber it with the load of my body, for the heavy sorrows I have in
my heart are such that I feel my life holds by a single thread."
"Heaven may help thee yet," said Periander, "for I am a living proof
that there are no sorrows or miseries that can kill any one."
Here Auristella joined in the conversation and said, "_That_ is not
hope which merely puts away and resists misfortune, but as the light
shines brightest in darkness so is hope most firm in time of trouble,
and despair is the feeling of only coward souls. There is no cowardice
or meanness greater than to give oneself up to despair."
"I believe this truly," answered the singer, "notwithstanding, and in
spite of, the sad experience I have known in the course of my life."
They continued rowing as they discoursed, so that before night they
reached another island also uninhabited, but there were trees upon it,
and many of them, and full of fruit, though dried, and past the season,
yet fit to eat. They leaped ashore, drew up their boats, and began with
great speed to despoil the trees, and make a hut to keep themselves
from the cold that night; they also kindled a fire by rubbing dry
sticks together, a common and well-known practice, and as all worked,
it was not long before they had built up this poor shelter, where they
all assembled, supplying the inconveniences of the place by a good
fire, this appearing to all the first thing necessary to their comfort.
After satisfying their hunger they would have prepared themselves to
sleep, if it had not been that the desire Periander felt to learn the
adventures of the musician prevented him, and he entreated that he
would, if it were possible, let them hear the story of his misfortunes,
for misfortunes they must have been, to have brought him into such a
situation.
The singer was courteous and without more entreaty, began thus.
[Illustration]