Taking with him fifty arquebusiers Richard went on hoard the Portuguese ship, in which he found about three hundred persons, who had escaped out of the galleys.  He immediately had the vessel he intended to discharge brought alongside, and had its guns brought on board.  Then making a short speech to the Christians, he ordered them to pass into the discharged vessel, where they found stores enough for more than a month and for a greater number of people; and as they embarked he gave each of them four Spanish crowns, which he sent for to his own ship, in order partly to relieve their wants when they reached land, which was not far off; for the lofty mountains of Abyla and Calpe were in sight.  They all thanked him heartily for his generous behaviour, and when they were nearly all embarked, the same person who had first spoken to him from the deck of the ship, addressed him, “You would do me a greater service, valorous sir, in taking me with you to England than in sending me to Spain; for, though it is my country, and it is but six days since I left it, I have nothing to look for there but grief and desolation.

“You must know, senor, that at the sack of Cadiz which happened about fifteen years ago, I lost a daughter, whom the English carried away with them to England, and with her I lost the comfort of my age and the light of my eyes, which since she passed from their sight, have never seen anything to gladden them.  Grief for this calamity and for the loss of my property, of which I was also despoiled, so overcame me that I was no longer able or willing to apply myself to commerce, in which I had been so successful that I was commonly reputed to be the richest merchant in our whole city; and so indeed I was, for, besides my credit, which was good for many hundred thousand dollars, my estate was worth more than fifty thousand ducats.  I lost all; yet all my losses would have been nothing had I not lost my daughter.  After the general calamity and my own, want pressed me so hard, that not being able to bear up against it, myself and my wife—­that woe-begone creature sitting yonder—­determined to emigrate to the Indies, the common refuge of the well-born poor.  We embarked six days ago in a packet-ship, but just outside the harbour of Cadiz we were captured by those two corsairs.  This was a new addition to our affliction; but it would have been greater had not the corsair taken this Portuguese ship, which fortunately detained them until you came to our rescue.”

In reply to Richard’s question what was his daughter’s name, the Spaniard said it was Isabella.  This confirmed the suspicion which Richard had all along entertained, that the person before him was the father of his beloved mistress.  Keeping this fact to himself, he told the Spaniard that he would willingly take him and his wife to London, where possibly they might obtain some intelligence about their child.