CHAPTER 13The gorilla stood by an embrasure, resting its elbows on the sill and staring moodily off toward the wharf. The sky was growing light with the approach of dawn. There is a small tide in the Mediterranean, much smaller than those of the greater oceans. It had been running now for nearly an hour. The pest ship, all sails spread, was hull down on the horizon.
The gorilla said gruffly, “El Sareuk, there is a sick void in my vitals that makes the shifting sands appear a mild holiday by comparison! The ship is gone—we’ve lost our fight to save England!”
The Saracen scratched his beard. “You have fleas, friend, and you’re giving them to me.... Godwin, how did this terrible witchery come to pass? I mean this new form of yours?”
Godwin, the gorilla, grunted. “They hauled me into a room
