Our kind host ended up by pressing gin on us.
Warmed and fed, but unfortunately unable to sustain a conversation with him either in Arabic or Spanish, and having exhausted the few words at our command, the next best thing was to make ourselves comfortable for the night. Lighting a candle, the old Jew paddled across the wet roof, and we followed him, dimly distinguishing beasts feeding in the stalls down below, to a small room on the far side, where some sort of preparation had been made for us: a rug was spread on the stone floor, and a bedstead had a blanket laid upon it, while our baggage was piled in a corner. Putting on overcoats and rugs, we sat down on one of our trunks—it is unwise to place confidence in unknown beds in Morocco; but when, driven by sheer weariness, we lay down as we were on the blanket, we slept unmolested.
A Jew on the other side of a thin partition which did not reach the ceiling, snored heavily and awoke us at intervals. About six next morning, what sounded very like the steamer's whistle blew repeatedly, but we paid little attention to it, the old Jew and Mr. Bewicke having both assured us the boat would leave about twelve o'clock. Morning had dawned when we burst open the wooden shutters of a little window much swelled with damp, and looked out across the sand-dunes at the sea.
There lay the black hull of the steamer at anchor: the wind of the night before had dropped; a flaring sunrise and stormy sky lowered behind the Riff Mountains, which were black.
Dressing was short work. The Moor handed us in at the door a tin basin of water, and in a short time we were ready for the next move. At that point R. craned up to look out of the high window. When she spoke, I could hardly believe her words. . . . The steamer had weighed anchor and was moving.
There was no mistaking it: the black hull had swung round, and was making for the open sea, with a flag of smoke trailing behind her; and away she went to Gibraltar.
We rushed out upon the flat roof and up a rotten ladder minus three rungs—all unheeding—which gave access to the roof above our room, gaining nothing thereby except a panoramic view, with the departing boat in the middle distance. Already she stood well out to sea: the Customs House was a quarter of a mile from the beach: there was nothing to be done: to blame our kind old host would have been as ungrateful as it was useless, and regrets were equally unavailing. True it is that the wise man fends for himself and makes no arrangements second-hand in Morocco, where every one is casual and every plan is casual. Had we found out when the ship's papers were going on board, and arranged with the agent to call us and take us in his boat, we should have eaten plum pudding in Gibraltar. Apparently the steamer had been signalling for the last hour to the effect that she was going, that the weather was bad and the sea rough outside, and that she would not venture to stay and dispatch her cargo—none of which facts the deaf and decrepit old Jew had grasped. He hobbled out, and would hardly believe his eyes.
We sat down to some weak green tea and the same dry aniseed-flavoured bread as the night before, and, thus fortified, reviewed our course of action, which had few complications, there being no other steamer before Christmas, and the ride to Ceuta or Tangier barred by reason of the flooded streams and general state of the country. The "open road" pointed towards Tetuan and our old quarters in the Spanish fonda, of which we had taken only the day before such joyful leave. It was inevitable, that next move; and should be made quickly, to judge by the look of the weather—the clouds were growing lower and blacker every half-hour.
Animals were a difficulty—our mules had gone back to the city the night before; but it would have been hard work wading across the flooded acres for seven miles; and there was our luggage.
Eventually we raised a seedy little rat of a pony, which R. rode; a ragged donkey, on which half our goods was balanced; while the other half went on a mule, with me on the top of all. We turned our backs on the hospitable white Customs House and the ill-favoured sea with a muttered imprecation.