Wallace of the Secret Service by Alexander Wilson Page B

intelligence to connect the dhow with the abduction, when she was known to have slipped away with such an evident desire for secrecy so soon after the Prince had disappeared. Another thought struck Wallace. The dhow was apparently privately owned, according to the fisherman. A man who kept a dhow for his own pleasure would probably live near the sea. It did not seem too much to expect, therefore, that once the dhow was found, it would not be difficult to find the house. The question was: would the captives be kept there, or sent inland to some more inaccessible spot? Then again, the owner may have merely lent his boat; he may even have been unaware of the purpose for which it was borrowed. Wallace made a grimace as the numerous possibilities paraded one after another through his mind.
    When within two miles of Ceuta, he gave orders for the pair of powerful binoculars; he studied the coast as the boat moved gently along. There was hardly a ripple on the sea, and not a cloud in the sky, the powerful sun streaming down on the unprotected deck, and causing the perspiration to run down Wallace’s face. But he took no notice of the discomfort, examining every mile of the shore with meticulous thoroughness. Tiny little bays were disclosed to his view, sometimes with villages, gleaming white in the sunshine, above them. Several dhows were seen, but not one answering to the description of that for which they were searching. The thought occurred to Sir Leonard that by then it may have been painted another colour, but the owner surely had no reason to think that his boat would be sought. Still there was no telling, and the thought was not pleasant. The search would be rendered far more difficult if the colour of the dhow had been altered.
    It took nearly three hours, at their rate of progress, to traverse the thirty or so miles to Tangier, and the sun was setting as they came in sight of the city. With a keen sense of disappointment Wallace gave orders to turn. A little cove was chosen for their night’s harbourage, and running close inshore, the launch dropped her anchor. An ample supply of provisions had been brought, and Batty soon had a meal ready for them all. A watch was set, the exsailor taking his turn with the rest.
    Soon after dawn the following morning they breakfasted, and the sun had barely risen before the boat was again under way, running now towards Ceuta and closer to the shore. But once more Wallace had to face disappointment. None of the dhows they saw bore much resemblance to the one they were after. At ten o’clock they passed Ceuta, two miles out at sea, and turning in to within a mile of the shore, when that city was out of sight, continuedon their way east. At noon the launch was anchored in a small bay, while Batty served lunch. By this time Wallace had almost given up hope of coming across the white dhow, but doggedly he ordered the boat’s nose to be kept east and, through the heat of the afternoon they ran, ever searching.
    It was half past four, and the launch was sixty miles from Ceuta, when Sir Leonard, through his glasses, caught sight of a narrow opening between two hills. Trees grew down nearly to the water’s edge on both sides, and the gap was almost hidden from view. If it went in far, it was an ideal spot in which to hide. It was certain that, if he had not been searching so carefully through binoculars, he would not have espied the entrance.
    Running in close to the shore, the engine was shut off, and the launch glided along quietly until about twenty yards from the gap, where she was anchored. Wallace and one of the sailors dropped into the skiff, and he was rowed to the land. There was no beach to speak of, but they found a spit of sand in between the rocks, and ran the small boat ashore there. Bidding his companion await his return, Sir Leonard set off to ascend the hill. It took him twenty minutes’ stiff climbing to reach the top, but his exertion was well repaid. Where he stood he could