the sea.

There still remained one alternative and a last chance of getting to
Gibraltar for Christmas Day: the steamer might not leave till the
following morning, and, taking shelter for the night in the Customs House
on the beach, we ought to be able to get on board at daybreak. We turned
off to the left through blinding gushes of rain, and headed for this
refuge.

[Illustration: A MOORISH PRISON GATE.

[_To face p. 130._]

The Customs House was much like a caravanserai: an open space in the
middle was enclosed by sheds for mules and asses; a rough stair led to
the living-rooms, above the sheds, which opened on to a flat white roof.
We stumbled up on to the roof; then in under a low doorway into a little
wooden lean-to, where an old Jew caretaker was living. The rest of the
place was given over to a family of Israelites, who had come down to
"the seaside" from Tetuan for change of air.

Much to our relief, the old Jew caretaker assured us that the steamer
would be landing cargo till noon on the following day: he offered us
everything he had in his power for that night, and promised to see us off
in a boat the next day. Committing us to his care, Mr. Bewicke left us
and rode back to Tetuan with the mules and Madunnah; our baggage was
stowed away under shelter; and the old Jew, finding a light and
improvising two seats out of boxes and matting, sat us down at his little
table, with a bit of frayed linoleum on it and a glass.

The roof leaked and the rain beat on to the linoleum, but we were in snug
quarters after the beach, and our friendly host began boiling up a great
black kettle in a tiny inner room, assisted by a Moor. He was very
rheumatic, the old man, also very deaf, and Martine must have been a damp
spot for him (the river and marshes close at hand, and east or west wind,
both of them heavy with moisture--nothing would dry, hung out in the air
at Tetuan); nor were his quarters rain-proof.

He hobbled backwards and forwards, muffled up in a worn grey
handkerchief, with a fortnight's white stubble on his chin, and an aged
greenish overcoat down to his slippers.

From the recesses of a bunk in the next shelter, where he slept, he
produced some pink china cups; then returned with a plate of bread,
hardened to the consistency of biscuit, and smelling strongly of aniseed.
After that he made tea in a little brown earthenware teapot--sweet green
tea with mint--and we soon thawed under a succession of cups. St