of pickled tomatoes, the other provisions having been consumed.  The old Genoese brought me a portion, apologizing at the same time, for the plainness of the fare.  I accepted it with thanks, and told him that a million better men than myself had a worse super.  I never ate with more appetite.  As the night advanced, the Jews sang Hebrew hymns, and when they had concluded, demanded of me why I was silent, so I lifted up my voice and chanted Adun Oulem:-

“Reigned the Universe’s Master, ere were earthly things begun;
When His mandate all created, Ruler was the name He won;
And alone He’ll rule tremendous when all things are past and gone,
He no equal has, nor consort, He, the singular and lone,
Has no end and no beginning; His the sceptre, might and throne. 
He’s my God and living Saviour, rock to whom in need I run;
He’s my banner and my refuge, fount of weal when called upon;
In His hand I place my spirit at nightfall and rise of sun,
And therewith my body also; God’s my God—­I fear no one.”

Darkness had now fallen over land and sea; not a sound was heard save occasionally the distant barking of a dog from the shore, or some plaintive Genoese ditty, which arose from a neighbouring bark.  The town seemed buried in silence and gloom, no light, not even that of a taper, could be descried.  Turning our eyes in the direction of Spain, however, we perceived a magnificent conflagration seemingly enveloping the side and head of one of the lofty mountains northward of Tarifa; the blaze was redly reflected in the waters of the strait; either the brushwood was burning or the Carboneros were plying their dusky toil.  The Jews now complained, of weariness, and the younger, uncording a small mattress, spread it on the deck and sought repose.  The sage descended into the cabin, but he had scarcely time to lie down ere the old mate, darting forward, dived in after him, and pulled him out by the heels, for it was very shallow, and the descent was effected by not more than two or three steps.  After accomplishing this, he called him many opprobrious names, and threatened him with his foot, as he lay sprawling on the deck.  “Think you,” said he, “who are a dog and a Jew, and pay as a dog and a Jew; think you to sleep in the cabin?  Undeceive yourself, beast; that cabin shall be slept in by none to-night but this Christian Cavallero.”  The sage made no reply, but arose from the deck and stroked his beard, whilst the old Genoese proceeded in his philippic.  Had the Jew been disposed, he could have strangled the insulter in a moment, or crushed him to death in his brawny arms, as I never remember to have seen a figure so powerful and muscular; but he was evidently slow to anger, and long-suffering; not a resentful word escaped him, and his features retained their usual expression of benignant placidity.