In the meantime the vessel filled more and more; whereas, if, instead of praying, they had continued at the pumps, we should have done well enough, as the gale was abating, and she did not make so much water as before.

Enraged at their cowardice, and at the idea of losing so much property as I had on board (for I considered it as my own), I seized the image from the mast, and threw it overboard, telling them to go to their pumps if they wished to be saved.  The whole crew uttered a cry of horror, and would have thrown me after the image, but I made my escape up the rigging, from whence I dared not descend for many hours.

Having now no saint to appeal to, they once more applied to the pumps.  To their astonishment, the vessel made no more water, and in the course of a few hours she was free.

The next morning the gale was over, and we were steering for Valencia.  I observed that the captain and sailors avoided me, but I cared little about it, as I felt that my conduct had saved the ship as well as my own property.  On the second day we anchored in the bay, and were boarded by the authorities, who went down into the cabin, and had a long conversation with the captain.  They quitted the ship, and about an hour afterwards I proposed going ashore, but the captain said that he could not permit it until the next morning.  While I was expostulating with him as to the reasons for my detention, a boat rowed alongside, from out of which came two personages dressed in black.  I knew them to be familiars of the Inquisition; and it immediately occurred to me that my personification of the lady abbess had been discovered, and that my doom was sealed.  The captain pointed me out; they collared and handed me into the boat, and pulled for the shore in silence.

When we landed, I was put into a black coach, and conveyed to the palace of the Inquisition, where I was thrown into one of the lowest dungeons.  The next day the familiars appeared, and led me to the hall of judgment, where I was asked whether I confessed my crime.  I replied that I did not know what I was accused of.  They again asked me if I would confess, and on my making the same answer I was ordered to the torture.

As I knew that I had no chance, I thought I might as well avoid unnecessary pain, and declared that I did confess it.

“What instigated you to the deed?”

Not well knowing what to reply, as I was not exactly aware of the nature of my offence, I answered that it was the blessed Virgin.

“Blasphemer!” cried the grand inquisitor, “what! the blessed Virgin desired you to throw St Antonio overboard?”

“Yes,” replied I (glad that at all events the crime was not what I had anticipated), “she did, and told me that it would be the saving of the vessel.”

“Where were you?”

“On the deck.”

“Where did you see her?”