perpendicularly down on the XXXX
Mediterranean, whose lazy waves, sending up a gentle murmur, rippled
far below him. On his left, also steep down below him, was the
Neutral Ground, level as the sea itself, extending northward into
sandy plains, abruptly crossed by tumbled heaps of brown mountains. A
reddening of the sky showed that the sun was at hand; and presently
the glowing disk came swiftly up from behind the eastern hills; the
pale earth shared in the ruddiness of the sky, and a long rosy gleam
swept gradually over the breadth of the grey sea, like an unwilling
smile spreading itself from a man's lips to his eyes and forehead.

Conspicuous on the highest point in the landscape stood my
grandfather, panting with his exertions as he wiped his forehead.
After standing for a moment, bronzed in front like a smith at the
furnace, face to face with the sun, he turned and swept with his
telescope the road into Spain. Early peasants, microscopic as ants,
were bringing their fruits and vegetables into the fortress--a laden
mule or two advanced along the beach over which the Major had last
night galloped--but nothing resembling what he sought was in sight.
Then turning completely round, with his face to the path he had just
ascended, he gave a long look towards the Straits; and as he did so,
the wind, which had shifted to the south-west towards morning, blew
gently on his face. A sail or two was discernible in the distance,
outward bound, but nothing resembling the cutter. As the Major
looked, a signal was made from Cabrita, and directly two feluccas
left their station at Algeciras, and swooped out, like two white
birds, as if to intercept some bark yet hidden by the Point. Again my
grandfather looked out to the Strait, and presently a small white
sail came in sight near Cabrita. For a quarter of an hour he stood
steadily, with levelled telescope, and then he was almost sure--yes,
he could swear--that he saw the small English ensign relieved against
the sail; and above, at the masthead, the yellow-striped flag that
Francisco hoisted before as the mark of a yacht. It was the Fair
Unknown--and my grandfather at once comprehended that the pursuers,
whom he had escaped the night before, had, on returning to Algeciras,
made arrangements for her capture as soon as she should appear.

The breeze was on her beam, and much fresher with her than farther in
the bay, so that the feluccas steered slantingly across her course as
she mad