Both travelers were warmly clad, the orderly’s knapsack containing all the necessary provisions. The journey was accomplished without special incident; halts were made at regular intervals, for the purpose of taking food and rest. The temperature by night as well as by day was quite endurable, and on the fourth afternoon after starting, thanks to the straight course which their compass enabled them to maintain, the adventurers found themselves within a few miles of Ceuta. As soon as Ben Zoof caught sight of the rock on the western horizon, he was all excitement. Just as if he were in a regiment going into action, he talked wildly about “columns” and “squares” and “charges.” The captain, although less demonstrative, was hardly less eager to reach the rock. They both pushed forward with all possible speed till they were within a mile and a half of the shore, when Ben Zoof, who had a very keen vision, stopped suddenly, and said that he was sure he could see something moving on the top of the island. “Never mind, let us hasten on,” said Servadac. A few minutes carried them over another mile, when Ben Zoof stopped again. “What is it, Ben Zoof?” asked the captain. “It looks to me like a man on a rock, waving his arms in the air,” said the orderly. “Plague on it!” muttered Servadac; “I hope we are not too late.” Again they went on; but soon Ben Zoof stopped for the third time. “It is a semaphore, sir; I see it quite distinctly.” And he was not mistaken; it had been a telegraph in motion that had caught his eye. “Plague on it!” repeated the captain. “Too late, sir, do you think?” said Ben Zoof. “Yes, Ben Zoof; if that’s a telegraph--and there is no doubt of it--somebody has been before us and erected it; and, moreover, if it is moving, there must be somebody working it now.” He was keenly disappointed. Looking towards the north, he could distinguish Gibraltar faintly visible in the extreme distance, and upon the summit of the rock both Ben Zoof and himself fancied they could make out another semaphore, giving signals, no doubt, in response to the one here. “Yes, it is only too clear; they have already occupied it, and established their communications,” said Servadac. “And what are we to do, then?” asked Ben Zoof. “We must pocket our chagrin, and put as good a face on the matter as we can,” replied the captain. “But perhaps there are only four or five Englishmen to protect the place,” said Ben Zoof, as if meditating an assault. “No, no, Ben Zoof,” answered Servadac; “we must do nothing rash. We have had our warning, and, unless our representations can induce them to yield their position, we must resign our hope.” Thus discomfited, they had reached the foot of the rock, when all at once, like a “Jack-in-the-box,” a sentinel started up before them with the challenge: “Who goes there?” “Friends. Vive la France!” cried the captain. “Hurrah for England!” replied the soldier.