to wherever they like. Perhaps Manoel was not distinctly conscious of all this, but only felt a secret restlessness and general longing of which he did not know whence it came or how to satisfy it.
One evening he went out to walk through the streets of his native town. Darkness had gathered, and Manoel went alone and without a set purpose; he walked until he came to the harbour, where he stood still on the quay.
The water was plashing gently, and a cool breeze was blowing from the sea. Large ships with their sails furled were bobbing up and down, and rubbing their flanks together with a crunching sound. In the centre rode a ship larger than the others, and boats with twinkling lights were dancing round it.
The thought suddenly occurred to Manoel: ‘How would it be if I were to take sail for India?’
He stood looking at the dark water and black ships. . . . ‘Supposing I took sail for India?’ he repeated. At that moment he was joined by two men; one was of a fantastically great stature, the other was black.
‘Sir’ said the large one, ‘have you ever known a swallow or a kite to fly as far as man with the help of God will sail? The world,
