left eye of the sage I observed a bloody cut, which he informed me he had received from the old Genoese after he had dragged him out of the cabin for the last time. I now produced my bottle of Cognac, begging that the crew would partake of it as a slight return for their hospitality. They thanked me, and the bottle went its round; it was last in the hands of the old mate, who, after looking for a moment at the sage, raised it to his mouth, where he kept it a considerable time longer than any of his companions, after which he returned it to me with a low bow. The sage now inquired what the bottle contained: I told him Cognac or aguardiente, whereupon with some eagerness he begged that I would allow him to take a draught. "How is this?" said I, "yesterday you told me that it was a forbidden thing, an abomination." Yesterday," he said, "I was not aware that it was brandy; I thought it wine, which assuredly is an abomination, and a forbidden thing.""Is it forbidden in the Torah?" I inquired. "Is it forbidden in the law of God?""I know not," said he, "but one thing I know, that the sages have forbidden it.""Sages like yourself," cried I with warmth; "sages like yourself, with long beards and short understandings: the use of both drinks is permitted, but more danger lurks in this bottle than in a tun of wine. Well said my Lord the Nazarene, 'Ye strain at a gnat and swallow a camel;' but as you are cold and shivering, take the bottle and revive yourself with a small portion of its contents." He put it to his lips and found not a single drop. The old Genoese grinned.
"Bestia," said he; "I saw by your looks that you wished to drink of that bottle, and I said within me, even though I suffocate, yet will I not leave one drop of the aguardiente of the Christian cavalier to be wasted on that Jew, on whose head may evil lightnings fall."
"Now, Sir cavalier," he continued, "you can go ashore: these two sailors shall row you to the Mole, and convey your baggage where you think proper; may the Virgin bless you wherever you go."
The Mole--The Two Moors--Djmah of Tangier--House of God--British Consul--Curious Spectacle--The Moorish House--Joanna Correa-- Ave Maria.
So we rowed to the Mole and landed. This Mole consists at present of nothing more than an immense number of large loose stones, which run about five hundred yards into the bay; they are part of the ruins of a magnificent pier which the English, who were the last foreign nation which held Tangier, destroyed when they evacuated the place. The Moors have never attempted to repair it; the surf at high water breaks over it with great fury. I found it a difficult task to pick my way over the slippery stones, and should once or twice have fallen, but for the kindness of the Genoese mariners. At last we