ment our experienced
capitano fancied we had got into shoal-water; the surf was seen running
in foaming circles, as if in a whirlpool. Now, indeed, our capitano did
yelp; now did the crew yelp, invoking all the saints of the Roman
calendar, instead of attending to the ship. [14] Here was a scene of
indescribable confusion. Our ship was suddenly put round and back.

My fellow passengers, a couple of Jews from Gibraltar, began swearing at
the capitano and his brave men. One of them, whilst cursing, thought it
just as well, at the same time, to call upon Father Abraham. Our little
brig pitched her bows two or three times under water like a storm-bird,
and did _not_ ground. It was seen to be a false alarm. The capitano now
took courage on seeing all the flags flying over the fortifications, it
being Friday, the Mahometan Sabbath. The silly fellow had heard, that
the port authorities always hauled down their colours, when the entrance
to the harbour was unsafe by reason of bad weather. Seeing the colours,
he imagined all was right.

There are two entrances to the port of Mogador; one from the south,
which is quite open; the other from the north-west, which is only a
narrow passage, with scarcely room to admit a ship-of-the-line. The
'Suffren,' in which the Prince de Joinville commanded the bombardment of
the town, stood right over this entrance, on the northern channel,
having south-east the Isle of Mogador, and north-west the coast of the
Continent. The Prince took up a bold and critical position, exposed to
violent currents, to grounding on a rocky bottom, and to many other
serious accidents. [15]

[Illustration]

As we neared this difficult entrance, we were all in a state of the most
feverish excitement, expecting, such was the fury of the breakers, to be
thrown on the rock on either side. Thus, it was a veritable Scylla and
Charybdis. A man from the rigging descried several small vessels moored
snugly behind the isle. We ventured in with breathless agitation. A man
from one of the fortifications, guessing or seeing, I suppose, our
timidity and bad seamenship, cried out at the top of his lungs, "Salvo!"
which being interpreted, meant, "The entrance is safe."

But this was not enough; we were to have another trial of patience. The
foolish captain--to terrify us to the last--had to cast his anchor, as a
matter of course; and imagine, dear reader, our alarm, our terror, when
we heard him scream out, "The chain is snapp