On reaching the great leviathan, for a short time it shows like a tiny spot along her water-line; but, soon after, it too is lifted aloft, and over the bulwark rail.
Ignorant as the young ladies may be of nautical matters, they can have no doubt as to what all this manoeuvring means. The ship is about to sail!
As this is an event which interests all the family, Don Gregorio, summoned to the house-top, soon stands beside them.
“She’s going off, sure enough,” he says, after sighting through one of the glasses. “It’s rather strange—so abruptly!” he adds. “Our young friends said nothing about it last night.”
“I think they could not have known of it themselves,” says Carmen.
“I’m sure they couldn’t,” adds Iñez.
“What makes you sure, niña?” asked Don Gregorio.
“Well—because,”—stammers out the Andalusian, a flush starting into her cheeks—“because they’d have told us. They said they didn’t expect to sail for a day or two, anyhow.”
“Just so; but you see they’re setting sail now—evidently intending to take departure. However, I fancy I can explain it. You remember they spoke of another warship they expected to arrive. Yonder it is! It came into port last night, and, in all likelihood, has brought orders for the Crusader to sail at once. I only wish it was the Condor! I sha’n’t sleep soundly till we’re safe away from—”
“See!” interrupts Carmen; “is not that a sailor coming this way?”