the sea-wall. To give him a false scent she steered south-westward for a mile or two, with the black peaks of the Argentaro between her and home. Then, when she was distant enough for none to be able to tell hers from the many other similar boats that were out on the sea that day, she tacked and put her little vessel about, and repassed the rocks of Orbetello standing herself well out to windward, so that from the mole of the town her sail looked no bigger than a white speck against heavy leaden-coloured clouds that were drifting up slowly under the pressure of a strong cold wind.
But to put about thus, and place that square mile and more of heaving water between Orbetello and herself, had taken several hours; the day was advancing, and the sun was low, as she came once more on the northerly tack and began to steer to the north-east. She was too good a sailor not to guess the meaning in the whistle of the wind and the steely hue of the great banks of clouds that rose higher and higher over the face of the sky. Far away, where the Atlantic races through the Straits of Gibraltar and the waves of Biscay lash the
