"Where away?" is the challenge.
"On the weather bow. A large steamer, judging from her smoke!"
Don Manada casts his cherished cigar to the waves and glues his eyes to the telescope.
As announced, the unknown vessel is directly on the weather bow and will pass within half a mile of the Semiramis, if the two craft hold to their present courses.
The captain intently watches the approaching vessel. The Semiramis is far beyond the five-mile limit of the Cuban coast, but if the unknown is a Spanish cruiser she may become suspicious of the trim yacht.
It therefore behooves the American steamer to insure the stranger a wide berth if the latter displays the arms of Castile; to show a clean pair of heels, in the vernacular of the sailor, if flight is necessary.
Again are preparations made to force the Semiramis to her highest speed. The awnings are removed, the boats once more unswung from the davits, the force of stokers in the engine-room augmented by half a score of sturdy seamen, and soon the roaring of the forced draught in the funnels again drowns the hum of the engines.
At rail or in rigging, from bridge or quarterdeck the people of the Semiramis watch intently the approaching vessel, whose funnels and upper works are now visible through the glass.
The Semiramis bears gradually to the westward, to afford the stranger at least three miles leeway. Suddenly Capt. Beals lays aside his glasses and rubs his chin thoughtfully.
"Do you care to show your papers to the Don?" he asks Van Zandt.
"To the Don? Is she a Spaniard, sure? But we shall pass a comfortable distance to windward of her and she will not attempt to interrupt us."
"She has already changed her course and is bearing directly across our bows. See!"
The unknown, now less than ten miles distant, seems to be steaming at full speed for a point directly in the
