solicitude by his afflicted friends, all attempts to administer
consolation were entirely fruitless, and he expired on the fifth day
after the death of his beloved mistress. With his parting breath, he
earnestly enjoined his surviving companions, to deposit his body in the
same grave, under the venerable tree, which they had so recently made for
the victim of his temerity; and where the altar which had been raised to
celebrate their deliverance, would now mark their untimely tomb.

Having performed this painful duty, the surviving companions of these
unfortunate lovers fixed a large wooden cross over the grave, on which
they carved the inscription which Machin had composed to record their
melancholy adventures; and added a request, that if any Christians should
hereafter visit the spot, they might erect a church in the same place,
and dedicate it to Christ. Having thus accomplished the dictates of
friendship and humanity, the survivors fitted out the boat, which had
remained ashore from their first landing, and put to sea with the
intention of returning if possible to England; but either from want of
skill, or owing to the currents and unfavourable winds, they likewise
were driven on the coast of Morocco, and rejoined their former shipmates
in slavery among the Moors.

This story is reported in a somewhat different manner by Galvano already
mentioned. According to him, one Macham, an Englishman, fled from his
country, about the year 1344, with a woman of whom he was enamoured,
meaning to retire into Spain; but the vessel in which the lovers were
embarked, was driven by a storm to the island of Madeira, then
altogether unknown and uninhabited. The port in which Macham took
shelter is still called Machico. His mistress being sea-sick, Macham
landed with her and some of the people, and the ship putting to sea,
deserted them. Oppressed with sickness and grief at seeing herself in