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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
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