90
THE PIRATE CITY.
Instead of obeying orders, Ted Flaggan turned, and, with an amused smile, watched the retreating figure of the interpreter. Then, after sauntering on some distance in a reverie, he stopped and gazed long and earnestly at the pirate city, whose whitewashed domes and minarets gleamed in the sunshine like marble, contrasting beautifully with the bright green of the Sahel hills behind, and the intense blue of the sky and sea.
"A whited sepulchre!" muttered the seaman, with a frown, as he turned away and pushed forward at a rapid pace towards the residence of the Britis consul.
