Felipe had reduced the speed of the Maud so that she appeared to be making about ten knots an hour, which the captain said was fast enough for ordinary purposes; but the boat, it was now known, could make twelve, whenever occasion should require. The ship's company were soon satisfied with the view they obtained of the castle, the arches, the domed mosques, and the minarets, and the steamer stood out towards the broad entrance to the Strait. Though Morris declared that he did not wish to be relieved at the wheel, the captain ordered Louis to take his place. The pilot insisted that it was nothing but fun to steer the boat, and he enjoyed every moment of the time he was so employed. "But if it is fun, Morris, don't you think you ought to give the other fellows their share of it?" asked Captain Scott, with a cheerful smile on his face, as though he realized that he was addressing the pet son of a millionaire. "I did not take that view of it, Captain, and was looking upon it as work, of which I was willing to do the lion's share," replied Morris. "I will cheerfully resign my place to Louis, and give him his share of the fun." Louis took the wheel. The situation was not a novel one to him; for he had done his full part of the steering when it was regarded as work, especially from midnight till morning. But all the crew looked upon it as play under present circumstances. The Maud was now off the three tall arches, which seemed to be the support of a lofty battery at the seaward corner of the continuous wall which surrounded the city. The exterior view of the place had been obtained, and the captain was about to lay his course for Gibraltar. "Sail, ho!" shouted Felix, who had been stationed at the bow to do duty as lookout; and the report came just at the moment when the change of helmsman was made. "Where away?" demanded the captain. "Dead ahead, sir," replied the lookout. "It is a steamer, and she is just coming around the point in front of us. Mind your eye, or she will run into us!" he shouted with a good deal of energy. "Port the helm!" said Captain Scott sharply, as he went forward to the bow to obtain a better view of the approaching vessel. The steamer was an elegant craft as she presented herself to the vision of the big four who were on the forecastle and in the pilot-house. She had just put her helm to starboard, and was rounding in so as to obtain a position in front of the city. As she turned a view of her ensign was obtained, and it was the red flag of Morocco, with what looked like a pair of curious shears in the middle of it, something like a pair of cimeters crossed. "Just as sure as ye's live and braythe, it's the Fatty!" exclaimed Felix, beginning to be quite excited. "It certainly looks like her," added Louis from the pilot-house. "I can go a point farther than either of you, for I know she is the Fatimé," added Captain Scott. "Keep her off more, Louis!"