It was gorgeous weather, and out on the blue water I saw cool sails moving and little breezes ruffling the calm, while I was glowing like a furnace.
Happily I was in fair training, and I needed it.

The Portuguese Jew must have done a steady six miles an hour over abominable country.
About five o'clock we came to a point where I dared not follow.

The road ran flat by the edge of the sea, so that several miles of it were visible.

Moreover, the man had begun to look round every few minutes.
He was getting near something and wanted to be sure that no one was in his neighbourhood.

I left the road accordingly, and took to the hillside, which to my undoing was one long cascade of screes and tumbled rocks.