ll of a
summer day towards the famous Straits of Gibraltar. Not long,
however, could his reverie last, for Jimmy Doon poked him in the
ribs and said:

"Wake up. Do you grasp the fact that you are just about to go
through the gate of the Mediterranean, and you'll be damned lucky if
you ever come out through it again? It's like going through the
entrance of the Colosseum to the lions. It's both tedious and
unseemly."

"Oh, get away, Jimmy," retorted Doe, "you spoil the view. Look,
Rupert--don't look out of the bows all the time; turn round and look
astern, if you want to see a glorious sunset."

I turned. We were steering due east, so the disc of the sun, this
still evening, was going down behind our stern. The sea maintained a
hue of sparkling indigo, while the sun encircled itself with
widening haloes of gold and orange. The vision was so gorgeous that
I turned again to see its happy effect upon the coast of Spain, and
found that the long strip of land had become apple pink. Meanwhile I
was aware that my hands and all my exposed flesh had a covering of
sticky moisture, the outcome of a damp wind blowing from grey and
melancholy Africa.

"The sirocco," said someone, and foretold a heavy mist with the
night.

It happened so. The darkness had scarcely succeeded the highly
coloured sunset before the raucous booming of the fog-horn sounded
from the ship's funnel, and the whole vessel was surrounded with a
thick mist--African breath again--which, laden with damp, left
everything superficially wet. The mist continued, and the darkness
deepened, as we went through the Straits. The siren boomed
intermittently, and Gibraltar, invisible, flashed Morse messages in
long and short shafts of light on the thick, moist atmosphere. To
add to the eerie effect of it all, a ship's light was hung upon the
mast, and cast yellow rays over the fog-damp.

"Beastly shame," grumbled Doe, looking into the opaque darkness, "we
shan't see the Rock this trip through. Never mind, we'll see it on
the homeward route."

"_Per_-haps," corrected Jimmy Doon.

Thus we went through the gate into the Mediterranean theatre, where
the big battle for those other Straits was being fought. We left the
fog behind us, as we got into wider seas, and steamed into a hot
Mediterranean night.

Sec.3

Oh, it was torrid. Ere we came on deck for our talk with Monty under
the stars, we had changed into our coolest things. And now, awaiting
his arrival, I lol