Beyond, the blue waters of the Gulf rippled lightly against the
sea-washed battlements of San Juan, whose brilliant lights glistened
along the combing of the surf.

To the south we could distinguish the isle of Sacrificios, and the dark
hulls that slept silently under the shelter of its coral reef.

Outside the fortified wall, which girt the city with its cincture of
grey rock, a smooth plain stretched rearward to the foot of the hill on
which we stood, and right and left along the crest of the ridge from
Punta Hornos to Vergara, ranged a line of dark forms--the picket
sentries of the American outposts, as they stood knee-deep in the soft,
yielding sand-drift.

It was a picture of surprising interest; and, as we stood gazing upon
it, the moon suddenly disappeared behind a bank of clouds; and the lamps
of the city, heretofore eclipsed by her brighter beam, now burned up and
glistened along the walls.

Bells rang merrily from church-towers, and bugles sounded through the
echoing streets. At intervals we could hear the shrill cries of the
guard, "_Centinela! alerte_!" (Sentinel, look out), and the sharp
challenge, "_Quien viva_?" (Who goes there?)

Then the sound of sweet music, mingled with the soft voices of women,
was wafted to our ears, and with beating hearts we fancied we could hear
the light tread of silken feet, as they brushed over the polished floor
of the ball-room.

It was a tantalising moment, and wistful glances were cast on the
beleaguered town; while more than one of our party was heard impatiently
muttering a wish that it might be carried by assault.

As we continued gazing, a bright jet of flame shot out horizontally from
the parapet over Puerto Nuevo.

"Look out!" cried Twing, at the same instant flinging his wiry little
carcase squat under the brow of a sand-wreath.

Several of the party followed his example; but, before all had housed
themselves, a shot came singing past, along with the loud report of a
twenty-four.

The shot struck the comb of the ridge, within several yards of the
group, and ricocheted off into the distant hills.

"Try it again!" cried one.

"That fellow has lost a champagne supper," said Twing.

"More likely he has had it, or his aim would be more steady," suggested
an officer.

"Oysters, too--only think of it!" said Clayley.

"Howld your tongue, Clayley, or by my sowl I'll charge down upon the
town!"

This came from Hennessy, upon whose imagination the con