CHAPTER XVII 



Gibraltar, March 14. 



We were almost in despair of ever getting away from 

 Tangier, when one morning a great steamer ran into the 

 bay. It proved to be a French war-steamer, bringing a 

 consul-general ; for the republic has made up some little 

 difference with the empire of Morocco which caused the 

 consul to retire some time ago. This steamer was going 

 back to Gibraltar next morning, so we lost no time in 

 calling to pay our respects to the newly-arrived functionary. 

 We were shown up into a Parisian-looking drawing-room, 

 and a beau monsieur, of about thirty-five, dressed in a smart 

 official uniform, arose to receive us. His good manners 

 could hardly prevent a look of surprise from mingling with 

 that appropriate listening face with which he bowed and 

 stood waiting for us to explain our errand. We felt that 

 in our soiled but still flaring muleteer's dress we did not 

 look like the proper sort of individuals to ask for a free 

 passage on board a man-of-war of a foreign power. I 

 waited for Harry to say something, but he said nothing ; 

 and so, after a slight pause, I began to state our 

 case : — 



" Sans trop en avoir Pair, M. le Consul, nous sommes des 

 gentilshommes Anglais, — we are dressed as contrabandiers, 

 because we have been travelling among the mountains of 

 Spain, and have no other clothes, otherwise we would not 



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