From the armoured tower in the waterway one could see the myriad of faces--white stars on both land and sea--for the great harbour was now alive with ships and each and all of them alive with men.
Suddenly, without any direct cause, the white masses became eclipsed--everyone had turned round, and was looking the other way.

I looked across the bay and up the mountain behind--a mighty mountain, whose slopes run up to the very sky, ridge after ridge seeming like itself a mountain.

Far away on the very top the standard of the Blue Mountains was run up on a mighty Flagstaff which seemed like a shaft of light.

It was two hundred feet high, and painted white, and as at the distance the steel stays were invisible, it towered up in lonely grandeur.

At its foot was a dark mass grouped behind a white space, which I could not make out till I used my field-glasses.
Then I knew it was King Rupert and the Queen in the midst of a group of mountaineers.