ty would also have seen that a thin, feathery film of smoke was
curling upward from the cream-coloured funnel of their own craft; for
although it had been decided not to go to sea until the afternoon, Jack
had given instructions to have steam for ten o'clock, so as to be
prepared for any emergency.

The party dawdled over breakfast, the ladies in particular finding so
much pleasure in their unwonted surroundings that they could scarcely
find time to eat because of the many novel incidents that were
continually demanding their attention. Moreover, they were in the
enviable condition of people who were in no hurry: their preparations
were all complete; nothing remained to be done or to worry about; they
were embarked upon a pleasure excursion, and part of the pleasure was to
sit still and gaze upon the increasing animation of the charming picture
that unfolded itself around them. When they were tired of gazing, a
word was all that would be necessary to provide them with a change of
scene; and meanwhile Jack was entertaining them all with a humorous
account of the adventures of himself and Milsom during the small hours
of the morning. Milsom, having already broken his fast, had taken the
steam pinnace and gone ashore to the custom-house (which had once been a
church) in order to procure his clearance papers. By the time that he
had finished his business and come off again, breakfast was over, the
stewards were clearing away the table and its equipage, and the
movements of the torpedo boat's crew were becoming interesting. A dense
cloud of black smoke was by this time pouring from the craft's funnel
and driving over the town with the rapidly increasing sea breeze, and
presently a small flicker of steam appeared at the top of her waste
pipe, and a minute or two later it was seen that the craft was getting
her anchor.

"Ah," remarked Jack to Senorita Isolda, "the fun is just about to
begin!"

And so it was. The anchor, thickly coated with foul, evil-smelling,
black mud, rose slowly out of the water; and as the cleansing hose was
turned upon it the officer on the bridge was seen to lay his hand upon
the engine-room telegraph and push the handle a little way forward.

Don Hermoso, who, despite all Jack's assurances, felt terribly anxious
lest, after all, something should at the last moment go wrong, looked
fearfully at the little craft's stern, expecting every instant to see
the foaming whirl of water there which woul