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A BRIDGE OF PERIL.
No more delightful experience may be had than to wake up in the harbour of Aden some fine morning--it is always fine there--and get the first impression of that mighty fortress, with its thousand iron eyes, in strong repose by the Arabian Sea.

Overhead was the cloudless sun, and everywhere the tremulous glare of a sandy shore and the creamy wash of the sea, like fusing opals.

A tiny Mohammedan mosque stood gracefully where the ocean almost washed its steps, and the Resident's house, far up the hard hillside, looked down upon the harbour from a green coolness.

The place had a massive, war-like character.