"Yes, you may count on me for that," says I.
"We shan't have Don Sanchez to play the tambour for us, but I wager I shall beat it as well as he; though, seeing he owes us more than we owe him, we might in reason call upon him, and—"
"No, no; only we three," says Moll.
"Aye, three's enough, in all conscience, and seeing we know a bit of the language, we shall get on well enough without him. I do long, Moll, to see you a-flinging over my shoulder, with your clappers going, your pretty eye and cheek all aglow with pleasure, and a court full of señors and caballeros crying 'Hole’!' and casting their handkerchiefs at your feet."
Moll fetched a long, fluttering sigh, and, turning to her father, says in an absent way: "Yes, dear; yes. When shall we go?"
Then, falling to discussing particulars, Dawson, clasping his hands upon his stomach, asked with a long face if at this season we were likely to fall in with the equinoxes on our voyage, and also if we could not hit some point of Spain so as to avoid crossing the mountains of Pyranee and the possibility of falling again into the hands of brigands. To which I replied that, knowing nothing of the northern part of Spain and its people, we stood a chance of finding a rude climate, unsuitable to travelling at this time of year, and an inhospitable reception, and that, as our object was to reach the South as quickly as possible, it would be more to our advantage to find a ship going through the straits which would carry us as far as Alicante or Valencia. And Moll supporting my argument very vigorously, Dawson gave way with much less reluctance than I expected at the out-
