oeuvres, the little craft which carries
the midshipman again appears, shooting out from behind the sand-hills,
and rowed rapidly back to the ship, the young officer still in it.

On reaching the great leviathan, for a short time it shows like a tiny
spot along her water-line; but, soon after, it too is lifted aloft, and
over the bulwark rail.

Ignorant as the young ladies may be of nautical matters, they can have
no doubt as to what all this manoeuvring means. The ship is about to
sail!

As this is an event which interests all the family, Don Gregorio,
summoned to the house-top, soon stands beside them.

"She's going off, sure enough," he says, after sighting through one of
the glasses. "It's rather strange--so abruptly!" he adds. "Our young
friends said nothing about it last night."

"I think they could not have known of it themselves," says Carmen.

"I'm sure they couldn't," adds Inez.

"What makes you sure, _nina_?" asked Don Gregorio.

"Well--because,"--stammers out the Andalusian, a flush starting into her
cheeks--"because they'd have told us. They said they didn't expect to
sail for a day or two, anyhow."

"Just so; but you see they're setting sail now--evidently intending to
take departure. However, I fancy I can explain it. You remember they
spoke of another warship they expected to arrive. Yonder it is! It
came into port last night, and, in all likelihood, has brought orders
for the _Crusader_ to sail at once. I only wish it was the _Condor_! I
sha'n't sleep soundly till we're safe away from--"

"See!" interrupts Carmen; "is not that a sailor coming this way?"

She points to a man, moving along the shore-road in the direction of the
house.

"I think so," responds Don Gregorio, after a glance through the glass.
"He appears to be in seaman's dress."

"Would he be coming here?" inquires Carmen, naively.

"I shouldn't be surprised; probably with a message from our young
friends. It may be the man they recommended to me."

"That's why somebody went ashore in the little boat," whispers Inez to
her aunt. "He's bringing us _billetitas_. I was sure they wouldn't go
away without leaving a last little word."

Inez's speech imparts no information: for Carmen has been surmising in
the same strain.

She replies by one of those proverbs, in which the Spanish tongue is so
rich:

"_Silencio! hay Moros en la costa_,"--(Silence! there are Moors on the
coast).

While this bit of by-play is bei