te patches, about the size of a man's hand, came out between
sky and water. They grew in width, and ran together with a hummocky
outline into a continuous undulation of sand-dunes. Here and there this
rampart had a gap like a breach made by guns. Mrs. Williams, behind me,
blew her nose faintly; her eyes were red, but she did not look at us.
No eye was turned our way, and the spell of the coast was on her, too. A
low, dark headland broke out to view through the dunes, and stood
there conspicuous amongst the heaps of dazzling sand, like a small man
frowning. A voice on deck pronounced:

"That's right. Here's his landmark. The fellow knew very well what he
was talking about."

It was Sebright's voice, and Castro, strolling away triumphantly,
affected to turn his back on the land. He had recognized the formation
of the coast about the inlet long before anybody else could distinguish
the details. His word had been doubted. He was offended, and passed us
by, wrapping himself up closely. One of Seraphina's locks blew against
my cheek, and this last effort of the breeze remained snared in the
silken meshes of her hair.

"There's not enough wind to fill the sail of a toy boat," grumbled
Sebright; "and you can't pull this heavy gig ashore with only that
one-armed man at the other oar." He was sorry he could not send us off
with four good rowers. The norther might be coming on before they could
return to the ship, and--apart from the presence of four English sailors
on the coast being sure to get talked about--there was the difficulty
in getting them back on board in Havana. We could, no doubt, smuggle
ourselves in; but six people would make too much of a show. On the other
hand, the absence of four men out of the ship's company could not be
accounted for very well to the authorities. "We can't say they all died,
and we threw them overboard. It would be too startling. No; you must go
alone, and leave us at the first breath of wind; and that, I fear, 'll
be the first of the norther, too."

He threw his head back, and hailed, "Do you see anything of that
schooner from aloft there?"

"Nothing of her, sir," answered a man perched, with dangling feet,
astride the very end of the topsail yard-arm. He paused, scanned
the space from under the flat of his hand, and added, shouting with
deliberation, "There's--a--haze--to seaward, sir." The ship, with her
decks sprinkled over with men in twos and threes, sent up to his ears a
murmur o