sky as impudently as a cracker-box set upon the dome of a great
cathedral.

As the transport rode on her anchor-chains, the iron bars around
her sides rose and sank and divided the landscape with parallel
lines. From his cot the officer followed this phenomenon with
severe, painstaking interest. Sometimes the wooden rail swept up
to the very block-house itself, and for a second of time
blotted it from sight. And again it sank to the level of the
line of breakers, and wiped them out of the picture as though
they were a line of chalk.

The soldier on the cot promised himself that the next swell of
the sea would send the lowest rail climbing to the very top of
the palm-trees or, even higher, to the base of the mountains; and
when it failed to reach even the palm-trees he felt a distinct
sense of ill use, of having been wronged by some one. There was
no other reason for submitting to this existence, save these
tricks upon the wearisome, glaring landscape; and, now, whoever
it was who was working them did not seem to be making this effort
to entertain him with any heartiness.

It was most cruel. Indeed, he decided hotly, it was not to be
endured; he would bear it no longer, he would make his escape.
But he knew that this move, which could be conceived in a
moment's desperation, could only be carried to success with great
strategy, secrecy, and careful cunning. So he fell back upon his
pillow and closed his eyes, as though he were asleep, and
then opening them again, turned cautiously, and spied upon his
keeper. As usual, his keeper sat at the foot of the cot turning