an alarming hurricane, which came on during the night, and rendered them extremely anxious for the safety of their companions, who had been left in charge of the vessel.  The ensuing morning destroyed all prospect of being ever enabled to get away from the island; the vessel had broke from her moorings by the violence of the storm, and was wrecked on the coast of Morocco, where all on board were immediately seized as slaves.

The afflicted Machin found this last calamity too severe for his terrified and afflicted companion to endure.  Her susceptible mind and tender frame, overcome by the severity of the scenes she had gone through, and oppressed by consciousness of having deviated from her duty, sunk under her afflictive situation.  From the moment it was reported that the vessel had disappeared, she became dumb with sorrow, and expired after a few days of silent despair.  This heavy stroke was too much for the inconsolable lover to support; though watched over with the utmost solicitude by his afflicted friends, all attempts to administer consolation were entirely fruitless, and he expired on the fifth day after the death of his beloved mistress.  With his parting breath, he earnestly enjoined his surviving companions, to deposit his body in the same grave, under the venerable tree, which they had so recently made for the victim of his temerity; and where the altar which had been raised to celebrate their deliverance, would now mark their untimely tomb.

Having performed this painful duty, the surviving companions of these unfortunate lovers fixed a large wooden cross over the grave, on which they carved the inscription which Machin had composed to record their melancholy adventures; and added a request, that if any Christians should hereafter visit the spot, they might erect a church in the same place, and dedicate it to Christ.  Having thus accomplished the dictates of friendship and humanity, the survivors fitted out the boat, which had remained ashore from their first landing, and put to sea with the intention of returning if possible to England; but either from want of skill, or owing to the currents and unfavourable winds, they likewise were driven on the coast of Morocco, and rejoined their former shipmates in slavery among the Moors.

This story is reported in a somewhat different manner by Galvano already mentioned.  According to him, one Macham, an Englishman, fled from his country, about the year 1344, with a woman of whom he was enamoured, meaning to retire into Spain; but the vessel in which the lovers were embarked, was driven by a storm to the island of Madeira, then altogether unknown and uninhabited.  The port in which Macham took shelter is still called Machico.  His mistress being sea-sick, Macham landed with her and some of the people, and the ship putting to sea, deserted them.  Oppressed with sickness and grief at seeing herself in this hopeless state of exile, the lady died; and Macham, who was extremely fond of her, constructed a chapel