Then came the endless conversations, whose attractions I know not how to describe. Falmouth's imagination was lively and brilliant, his wit well embellished. We both possessed quite varied and extended knowledge; we never for a moment felt wearied with one another, in spite of the long hours of the voyage. In proportion as our intimacy increased, my faith in myself and in Falmouth increased. I felt happy and better, a new future opened before me; I had plenty of courage not to subject this happiness, so fresh and young, to a withering analysis. I gave myself up innocently to impressions which I found so pure and so refreshing. We had been at sea five days. One evening, quite late, towards eleven o'clock, having left Falmouth in the saloon, I ascended to the deck to enjoy the freshness of the night, and seated myself in a yawl suspended in the stern of the schooner. I had been some time absorbed in my dreams, when the sailor on watch hailed an approaching ship. I arose. The watch hailed a second time. Almost immediately I saw sailing silently towards us, and at a very short distance from us, a ship, whose immense sails I recognised as those of the Sardinian boat of the bay of Porquerolles. The night was clear, the boat sailing rather fast; upon the deck of this long, narrow ship a great number of men were crowding against one another. From the mast was hung a ship's lantern. Lighted by its red, uncertain reflection, I distinguished at the helm, and holding the tiller, the man with the black cowl that I had already noticed during the approach of the long-boat. Strange encounter, the consequences of which were to be still more strange! The mystic withdrew; the noise of its track died away. For a few minutes I could follow it with my eye, thanks to its white sails; then they became less distinct, and, finally, altogether effaced, until I could see only a luminous point in the darkness, which in time disappeared with the play of the ship's sails, like a star under a cloud. Upon the appearance of this suspicious boat, Williams had ordered his brother to look for Falmouth. "Well, Williams," said the latter, mounting the bridge, "we are again meeting our ugly acquaintance of Porquerolles!" "The mystic has just passed athwart us, my lord." "And what do you advise?" "Save for the order of your Grace, my advice would be to put ourselves at once on defence, for I think that this pirate, held like ourselves in these quarters by the contrary winds, will attack us, not believing us ready to receive it, and reckoning, moreover, upon the number of its crew."