te when we separated for the night, and the morning was already
far advanced ere I awoke; the monotonous tramp overhead showed me that the
others were stirring, and I gently moved the shutter of the narrow window
beside me to look out.

The sea, slightly rippled upon its surface, shone like a plate of fretted
gold,--not a wave, not a breaker appeared; but the rushing sound close by
showed that we were moving fast through the water.

"Always calm hereabouts," said a gruff voice on deck, which I soon
recognized as the skipper's; "no sea whatever."

"I can make nothing of it," cried out Power, from the forepart of the
vessel. "It appears to me all cloud."

"No, no, sir, believe me; it's no fog-bank, that large dark mass to leeward
there,--that's Cintra."

"Land!" cried I, springing up, and rushing upon deck; "where,
Skipper,--where is the land?"

"I say, Charley," said Power, "I hope you mean to adopt a little more
clothing on reaching Lisbon; for though the climate is a warm one--"

"Never mind, O'Malley," said the major, "the Portuguese will only be
flattered by the attention, if you land as you are."

"Why, how so?"

"Surely, you remember what the niggers said when they saw the 79th
Highlanders landing at St. Lucie. They had never seen a Scotch regiment
before, and were consequently somewhat puzzled at the costume; till at
last, one more cunning than the rest explained it by saying: 'They are in
such a hurry to kill the poor black men that they came away without their
breeches.'"

"Now, what say you?" cried the skipper, as he pointed with his telescope to
a dark-blue mass in the distance; "see there!"

"Ah, true enough; that's Cintra!"

"Then we shall probably be in the Tagus River before morning?"

"Before midnight, if the wind holds," said the skipper. We breakfasted on
deck beneath an awning. The vessel scarcely seemed to move as she cut her
way through the calm water.

The misty outline of the coast grew gradually more defined, and at length
the blue mountains could be seen; at first but dimly, but as the day wore
on, their many-colored hues shone forth, and patches of green verdure,
dotted with sheep or sheltered by dark foliage, met the eye. The bulwarks
were crowded with anxious faces; each looked pointedly towards the shore,
and many a stout heart beat high, as the land drew near, fated to cover
with its earth more than one among us.

"And that's Portingale, Mister Charles," said a voice behind