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had once marked the limits of navigation for Mediterranean sailors.
 Beautiful, isn t it? Lisa breathed in awed tones as he stepped close behind her.
 It is indeed, he replied, slipping his arms around her waist.
They stood there for nearly a minute, neither of them moving. Then Lisa slumped back into Mark,
pressing her body to his. She tipped her face up and back to present her lips. He leaned forward and
kissed her, at first lightly, then with fervor. Breaking away, she turned and embraced him again. Still
embracing, they sank to the white limestone and for long minutes, questing hands were busy. Finally, Lisa
broke away, gasping. She sat up, caught her breath, and said,  I am hungry. Let s find a place to eat
lunch.
Mark frowned, confused by the loud throbbing of his pulse. Then, he took a deep breath, stood, and
brushed the dirt of centuries from his clothes.  Sure, why not? I am famished.
They walked hand in hand along a meandering trail that paralleled the spine of The Rock, past the ruins
of the old cable car station, and eventually came to a weather beaten sign directing them to St. Michael s
Cave. Neither of them spoke through the long minutes of their stroll, afraid to break the building sense of
anticipation.
The cave turned out to be a disappointment. The stalagmites and stalactites were impressive, but
centuries of human activity had somehow dulled their beauty. That and the constant drizzle inside the cave
as water dripped from the tiny pores of the rock made their visit a short one.
 Down or up? Lisa asked as they stood at the entrance of the cave. Below them in the distance was
Europa Point, and all around the base of The Rock, the ruins that had once been the town of Gibraltar.
 Let s take this trail to the left, Mark replied with studied nonchalance that he was sure fooled neither of
them. There were scrubby trees in view to the left and a few flat places where one might spread a picnic
lunch in privacy.
Walking arm in arm, they rounded a steep bluff to find a small rectangular area that was obviously
artificial. Whatever reason someone had for grafting this platform to the side of the cliff was not clear.
Perhaps it had been a sentry post from which to watch for strange sails on the horizon, or a radar site, or
even the perch for a ground defense laser. Whatever its one time use, the space was several meters on a
side and absolutely flat. A tiny grove of stubby broad-leafed trees had taken root in the fill dirt around the
periphery and the center was covered by wiry grass. To the eyes of the young couple, it was as beautiful
as any forest glen, and as inviting.
Without a word, they dropped their pocket belts and canteens and stepped forward to embrace again.
This coming together held none of the tentativeness of the last. They kissed with the ardor of new lovers;
parting only when breathing became a necessity. Both of their chests heaved with desire as they stared
into one another s eyes.
By unspoken agreement, they began to shed their clothes. The race to disrobe was halted by the
discovery that their hiking boots were too large to allow the passage of either pants or shorts. Had a
distant watcher had them under observation, he would have been treated to the comical sight of two
half-naked people collapsing to the ground to begin frantically pawing at the seals on their footwear.
After that, things would have become confusing as the ownership of various arms and legs became
tangled and indistinct. Nor were the boots the only impediment to love. Small pebbles hidden by the long
grass made the ground an uncomfortable bed. Neither noticed as they came together, limbs entwined in
that most human of all embraces. Indeed, it was a long time before their conscious minds registered
anything but one another.
#
The sun was low in the west when they quit The Rock, strolling arm in arm in long strides down Europa
Road. They reentered the town where they had left it, on the slope above Ragged Staff Wharf. The long
shadows cast by the setting sun turned the scene surrealistic as they reached the turning in the old road
that would take them to the wharf.
Mark glanced at Lisa beside him and noted the change in her appearance. Her immaculate hiking outfit
was now dirty and rumpled and perspiration lines streaked her well-scrubbed face. Her hair was
plastered flat against her skull and much of her skin was caked with grime that disappeared beneath her
clothes. Two of her buttons were missing (the result of being too hurried in their private glen). Their loss
caused her to show considerably more cleavage than she had this morning. Her face was set in a broad
smile that was only now beginning to show signs of weariness.
Mark suspected that his own appearance was not much different and, despite the warning twinges that
told him that he would be sore tomorrow, he would have been happy to have this day go on forever.
 Look, a boat at the wharf! Lisa said, pointing over the roofless ruins that had once been people s
homes.  More tourists, do you think?
 Good thing we didn t run into them about noon, isn t it? he asked with a laugh. He held out a hand to
block the sun in his eyes and scanned the water of Gibraltar Bay. So far, there was no sign of the
hydrofoil. It was half an hour until sundown.
 They had better hurry. I don t think the captain would like to navigate through those wrecks in
darkness.
They were laughing when they reached the wharf and found Maurice Farner-Smythe waiting for them. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]