GOOD-BYE, SWEETHEART Within twelve days of the burial of my mother and the telling of the story of his marriage to her by my father, I was ready to start upon my search.

As it chanced a vessel was about to sail from Yarmouth to Cadiz.
She was named the 'Adventuress,' of one hundred tons burden, and carried wool and other goods outwards, purposing to return with a cargo of wine and yew staves for bows.

In this vessel my father bought me a passage.
Moreover, he gave me fifty pounds in gold, which was as much as I would risk upon my person, and obtained letters from the Yarmouth firm of merchants to their agents in Cadiz, in which they were advised to advance me such sums as I might need up to a total of one hundred and fifty English pounds, and further to assist me in any way that was possible.
Now the ship 'Adventuress' was to sail on the third day of June.
Already it was the first of that month, and that evening I must ride to Yarmouth, whither my baggage had gone already.

Except one my farewells were made, and yet that was the one I most wished to make.

Since the day when we had sworn our troth I had gained no sight of Lily except once at my mother's burial, and then we had not spoken.