The eddies of sand had been passed. There was a view of a group of European houses rising along a promontory, with a church tower in the midst of them. The “Albatross” swooped down towards the surface of the sea. Towards evening she was running along the coast—which formerly belonged to Turkestan, but now belongs to Russia—and in the morning of the 3rd of July she was about three hundred feet above the Caspian. There was no land in sight, either on the Asiatic or European side. On the surface of the sea a few white sails were bellying in the breeze. These were native vessels recognizable by their peculiar rig—kesebeys, with two masts; kayuks, the old pirate-boats, with one mast; teimils, and smaller craft for trading and fishing. Here and there a few puffs of smoke rose up to the “Albatross” from the funnels of the Ashurada steamers, which the Russians keep as the police of these Turcoman waters. That morning Tom Turner was talking to the cook, Tapage, and to a question of his replied, “Yes; we shall be about forty-eight hours over the Caspian.” “Good!” said the cook; “Then we can have some fishing.” “Just so.” They were to remain for forty-eight hours over the Caspian, which is some six hundred and twenty-five miles long and two hundred wide, because the speed of the “Albatross” had been much reduced, and while the fishing was going on she would be stopped altogether. The reply was heard by Phil Evans, who was then in the bow, where Frycollin was overwhelming him with piteous pleadings to be put “on the ground.” Without replying to this preposterous request, Evans returned aft to Uncle Prudent; and there, taking care not to be overheard, he reported the conversation that had taken place. “Phil Evans.” said Uncle Prudent, “I think there can be no mistake as to this scoundrel’s intention with regard to us.” “None.” said Phil Evans. “He will only give us our liberty when it suits him, and perhaps not at all.” “In that case we must do all we can to get away from the ‘Albatross’.” “A splendid craft, she is, I must admit.” “Perhaps so.” said Uncle Prudent; “but she belongs to a scoundrel who detains us on board in defiance of all right. For us and ours she is a constant danger. If we do not destroy her—” “Let us begin by saving ourselves” answered Phil Evans; “we can see about the destruction afterwards.” “Just so.” said Uncle Prudent. “And we must avail ourselves of every chance that comes, along. Evidently the “Albatross” is going to cross the Caspian into Europe, either by the north into Russia or by the west into the southern countries. Well, no matter where we stop, before we get to the Atlantic, we shall be safe. And we ought to be ready at any moment.” “But.” asked Evans, “how are we to get out?”