THE TWO ADMIRALS It was a glorious morning, and a glorious sight was disclosed by the rising sun--a palm-shaded city of red-tiled roofs, dominated by a fine, double-towered cathedral, and a broad, land-locked bay set in a circle of rounded hills and rugged mountains.

On the placid bosom of the bay rode Cervera's proud squadron of war-ships--five mighty cruisers, four of which were of the latest model and most approved armament; two wicked-looking torpedo-boat destroyers, each claimed to be more than a match for any battle-ship afloat, and a few gunboats that had been used for coast patrol.

From the war-ships came the cherry notes of bugles, and from the Plaza de Armas, in which a regiment was passing in review, swelled the inspiring music of a full military band.

Beyond the city every near-by elevation was occupied by a stout block-house, each displaying the red and yellow flag of Spain, and forming the nucleus for radiating lines of rifle-pits.

Far down at the entrance to the bay rose the grim walls of Santiago's Morro Castle, and beyond it floated against the blue sky soft smoke clouds that Ridge felt sure must come from the American ships on blockade.
This was Santiago.