The breeze was light and fair, and they went on, as Frank had
promised, pleasantly enough. My grandfather for the first time
surveyed the scene of his two years' residence from the sea. The grey
old rock looked mellow in the evening light, as an elderly gentleman
over his wine--the window-panes glanced ruddily, the walls gleamed
whitely, and the trees were tinted with a yellower green; behind, in
the eastern sky, floated one single purple cloud. As the objects
became confused in the distance, the sharp rugged outline of the rock
assumed the appearance that has caused the Spaniards to call it El
Cuerpo--the appearance of a vast human body laid out on its back, and
covered with a winding-sheet, like a dead Titan on his funeral
pile--the head towards Spain, the chest arched at Middle Hill, the
legs rising gently upward to the knees at O'Hara's Tower, and then
sloping down till the feet rest on Europa. The sun went down as they
rounded Cabrita Point, and the breeze, freshening, took them swiftly
along under the huge hills that rise abruptly upward from the Spanish
coast. Then Francisco, lighting a charcoal fire, placed thereon, in a
frying-pan, tender steaks thickly strewn with sliced tomatas and
onions, from whence arose a steam that brought tears of gratitude and
delight into my grandfather's eyes. He anxiously watched the
cooking--even threw out slight suggestions, such as another pinch of
pepper, an additional onion, a slight dash of cayenne, and the like;
and then, settling a plate firmly on the knees of his jack-boots, with
a piece of bread and a cup by his side, and a knife and fork pointing
upwards in his hands like lightning-conductors, gazed cheerfully
around him. And when Francisco, rising from his knees, where he had
been blowing the charcoal fire, removed the hissing pan towards my
grandfather's plate, transferring to it a liberal portion of the
contents, the good man, gazing on the white and red streaks of
vegetable relieved by the brown background of steak, and the whole
picture swimming in a juicy atmosphere of gravy, felt sentiments of
positive friendship towards that lawless individual, and, filling a
bumper of Xerez, drank success to the voyage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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