Since that day Michael had never left the Count, and had always contrived to sail with him. Born in the vicinity of Pau, the country of Henri IV., he was like the king, his fellow countryman, gay, mocking, and even sceptical. An excellent sailor, endowed with tried bravery, and far from ordinary vigour, Michael offered in his person the perfect type of the Béarnaise Basque, a strong and rough, though loyal and faithful race. Only one individual shared in Michael's heart the unbounded friendship he felt for his chief. This privileged being was a Breton sailor, gloomy and taciturn, who formed a complete antithesis to him, and whom, owing to his slowness, the crew had favoured with the characteristic name of Bowline, which he had accepted, and was so accustomed to answer to it, that he had almost forgotten the name he previously bore. The service the Count had done Michael, the latter had rendered to Bowline: hence he was attached to the Breton through this very service, and while mocking and teasing him from morning till night, he had a sincere friendship for him. The Breton understood Michael, and so far as his reserved and slightly demonstrative nature permitted, he testified on every occasion his gratitude to the Basque, by letting himself be completely directed and governed by him in all the actions of his life, without ever attempting to revolt against the frequent exorbitant demands of his mentor. If we have dwelt so long on the character of these two men, it is because they are destined in the course of this work to play an important part; and the reader must be acquainted with them, in order to understand the facts we shall have to record. The Count and his sailor continued to advance along the streets, the one reflecting and amusing himself the other remaining, through respect, a few paces in the rear, and desperately smoking a pipe, whose stem was so short that the bowl almost touched his lips. While walking thus straight before them, the promenaders soon reached the end of the town, and turned into a lane bordered by aloes, which led, with a rather steep incline, to the top of a hill, whence could be enjoyed the entire panorama of the bay of Algeciras, which, we may remark in a parenthesis, is the finest in the world. It was about two in the afternoon, the hottest moment of the day. The sun profusely poured down its torrid beams, which made the pebbles in the road sparkle like diamonds.