The pair seemed demented about birds.
For a second an electric torch was flashed in the shelter of the rock, and I could see a tanned, bearded face looking at some papers.

The light disappeared, and again the Portuguese Jew was fumbling with the stones at the base of the tower.

To my joy he was close to my crack, and I could hear every word.

'You cannot come here very often,' he said, 'and it may be hard to arrange a meeting.

See, therefore, the place I have made to put the _Viageffutter_.