Still I am a little uneasy under his gaze.
I dare say that if the Count d'Artigas could guess how certain things
have suddenly become clear to me, he would not hesitate to have me
thrown overboard.
Prudence therefore commands me to be more circumspect than ever.
Without giving rise to any suspicion--even in the mind of Engineer
Serko--I have succeeded in raising a corner of the mysterious veil,
and I begin to see ahead a bit.
As the _Ebba_ draws nearer, the island, or rather islet, towards which
she is speeding shows more sharply against the blue background of the
sky. The sun which has passed the zenith, shines full upon the western
side. The islet is isolated, or at any rate I cannot see any others of
the group to which it belongs, either to north or south.
This islet, of curious contexture, resembles as near as possible a
cup turned upside down, from which a fuliginous vapor arises. Its
summit--the bottom of the cup, if you like--is about three hundred
feet above the level of the sea, and its flanks, which are steep and
regular, are as bare as the sea-washed rocks at its base.
There is another peculiarity about it which must render the islet
easily recognizable by mariners approaching it from the west, and this
is a rock which forms a natural arch at the base of the mountain--the
handle of the cup, so to speak--and through which the waves wash as
freely as the sunshine passes. Seen this way the islet fully justifies
the name of Back Cup given to it.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104