f.

Ted had thrown off his burnous and washed himself by this time, and now,
clad in a borrowed pair of ducks and striped shirt, he stood by the gun
commenting pleasantly on his experiences of Algerine life, and pointing
out the various buildings and objects of interest in the city to his
mates.

"That big white house there," said he, "right fornint ye, with the round
top an' the staple all to wan side--that's wan o' the chief mosques.
It's somewhere about two hunderd year ould, more or less, an' was built
by a slave--a poor feller of a Genoese--an', would you belave it, they
kilt him for the shape he gave it! Ah, they're a bad lot intirely!
Like a dacent Christian, he made it in the shape o' a cross, an' whin
the Dey found that out he chopped the poor man's head off--so he did,
worse luck! but it's that they're always doin', or stranglin' ye wid a
bow-string, or makin' calf's-futt jelly o' yer soles.--What! `Ye don't
belave it?' Faix, if ye go ashore ye'll larn to belave it. I've seed
poor owld women git the bastinado--that's what they calls it--for
nothin' at all a'most. Ah, they're awful hard on the women. They kape
'em locked up, they does, as if they was thieves or murderers, and niver
lets 'em out--at least the ladies among 'em--for fear o' their bein'
runned away wid. It's true what I'm sayin'. An' if wan shud be runned
away wid, an' cotched, they ties her in a sack and drowns her.--
Good-lookin', is it? Faix, that's more than I can tell 'ee, for all the
time I've been in the place I've never wance seed a Moorish woman's
face, barrin' the brow an' eyes and top o' the nose, for they cover 'em
up wid white veils, so as to make 'em look like ghosts or walkin'
corpses. But the Jewesses show their purty faces, an' so do the
naigresses.--`are the naigresses purty?' Troth, they may be to their
own kith an' kin, but of all the ugly--Well, well, as you say, it's not
fair to be hard on 'em, poor critters; for arter all they didn't make
theirselves, no more than the monkeys did."

Ted Flaggan was interrupted here by the sudden exclamation of "There she
is!" and the next moment the boat with the flag of truce was seen
returning with the signal flying--"No answer."

Instantly Lord Exmouth signalled to the fleet, "Are you ready?" to which
an affirmative reply was at once returned, and then each ship and boat
bore down on its appointed station.

We have already said that the harbour of Algiers was formed by the