And as soon as the “Zéphir” had reached the open sea, La Queue cast his nets. After that he went to visit his “jambins.” The jambins are a kind of elongated eel-pot in which they catch more, especially lobsters and red garnet. But in spite of the calm sea, he did well to visit his jambins one by one. All were empty; at the bottom of the last one, as if in mockery, he found a little mackerel, which he threw back angrily into the sea. It was fate; there were weeks like that when the fish flouted Coqueville, and always at a time when M. Mouchel had expressed a particular desire for them. When La Queue drew in his nets, an hour later, he found nothing but a bunch of seaweed. Straightway he swore, his fists clenched, raging so much the more for the vast serenity of the ocean, lazy and sleeping like a sheet of burnished silver under the blue sky. The “Zéphir,” without a waver, glided along in gentle ease. La Queue decided to go in again, after having cast his nets once more. In the afternoon he came to see them, and he menaced God and the saints, cursing in abominable words. In the meanwhile, Rouget, Fouasse, and Delphin kept on sleeping. They did not succeed in standing up until the dinner hour. They recollected nothing, they were conscious only of having been treated to something extraordinary, something which they did not understand. In the afternoon, as they were all three down at the harbor, the Emperor tried to question them concerning the liquor, now that they had recovered their senses. It was like, perhaps, eau-de-vie with liquorice-juice in it; or rather one might say rum, sugared and burned. They said “Yes”; they said “No.” From their replies, the Emperor suspected that it was ratafia; but he would not have sworn to it. That day Rouget and his men had too many pains in their sides to go a-fishing. Moreover, they knew that La Queue had gone out without success that morning, and they talked of waiting until the next day before visiting their jambins. All three of them, seated on blocks of stone, watched the tide come in, their backs rounded, their mouths clammy, half-asleep. But suddenly Delphin woke up; he jumped on to the stone, his eyes on the distance, crying: “Look, Boss, off there!” “What?” asked Rouget, who stretched his limbs. “A cask.” Rouget and Fouasse were at once on their feet, their eyes gleaming, sweeping the horizon. “Where is it, lad? Where is the cask?” repeated the boss, greatly moved. “Off there--to the left--that black spot.” The others saw nothing. Then Rouget swore an oath. “Nom de Dieu!” He had just spotted the cask, big as a lentil on the white water in a slanting ray of the setting sun. And he ran to the “Baleine,” followed by Delphin and Fouasse, who darted forward tapping their backs with their heels and making the pebbles roll.