And suddenly Clif, who was in front, saw something loom up before him, a dark line. And he put out his hand to touch it.
He found that the sand rose gradually into a sort of drift or bank. It was high, and seemed to reach for some distance.
The sailors stopped abruptly, and Clif crept softly forward, feeling along with his hands; suddenly the men heard him mutter a startled exclamation under his breath.
"Men," he whispered, "we're in a terrible fix; I ran into a gun!"
"A gun!"
"Yes—a big one. We've struck a Spanish battery, and we must be near some town!"
The sailors stared at him aghast; and then suddenly came a startling interruption—one that fairly made their blood grow chill.
"Who goes there?"
It was a loud, stern hail in Spanish, and it seemed to come from almost beside them!
Quick as a flash the Americans dropped, crouching close together in the darkness. They could hear the beating of each others' hearts.