“And there, having cut wood, we made a pinnace (and work enough we had at it) of five-and-forty foot in the keel; and in her down the stream, and to the Isle of Pearls in the Gulf of Panama.”

“Into the South Sea?  Impossible!” said Sir Richard.  “Have a care what you say, my man; for there is that about you which would make me sorry to find you out a liar.”

“Impossible or not, liar or none, we went there, sir.”

“Question him, Amyas, lest he turn out to have been beforehand with you.”

The man looked inquiringly at Amyas, who said—­

“Well, my man, of the Gulf of Panama I cannot ask you, for I never was inside it, but what other parts of the coast do you know?”

“Every inch, sir, from Cabo San Francisco to Lima; more is my sorrow, for I was a galley-slave there for two years and more.”

“You know Lima?”

“I was there three times, worshipful gentlemen, and the last was February come two years; and there I helped lade a great plate-ship, the Cacafuogo,’ they called her.”

Amyas started.  Sir Richard nodded to him gently to be silent, and then—­

“And what became of her, my lad?”

“God knows, who knows all, and the devil who freighted her.  I broke prison six weeks afterwards, and never heard but that she got safe into Panama.”

“You never heard, then, that she was taken?”

“Taken, your worships?  Who should take her?”

“Why should not a good English ship take her as well as another?” said Amyas.

“Lord love you, sir; yes, faith, if they had but been there.  Many’s the time that I thought to myself, as we went alongside, ’Oh, if Captain Drake was but here, well to windward, and our old crew of the “Dragon"!’ Ask your pardon, gentles:  but how is Captain Drake, if I may make so bold?”

Neither could hold out longer.

“Fellow, fellow!” cried Sir Richard, springing up, “either thou art the cunningest liar that ever earned a halter, or thou hast done a deed the like of which never man adventured.  Dost thou not know that Captain Drake took that ‘Cacafuogo’ and all her freight, in February come two years?”

“Captain Drake!  God forgive me, sir; but—­Captain Drake in the South Seas?  He saw them, sir, from the tree-top over Panama, when I was with him, and I too; but sailed them, sir?—­sailed them?”

“Yes, and round the world too,” said Amyas, “and I with him; and took that very ‘Cacafuogo’ off Cape San Francisco, as she came up to Panama.”

One glance at the man’s face was enough to prove his sincerity.  The great stern Anabaptist, who had not winced at the news of his mother’s death, dropt right on his knees on the floor, and burst into violent sobs.

“Glory to God!  Glory to God!  O Lord, I thank thee!  Captain Drake in the South Seas!  The blood of thy innocents avenged, O Lord!  The spoiler spoiled, and the proud robbed; and all they whose hands were mighty have found nothing.  Glory, glory!  Oh, tell me, sir, did she fight?”