Almost all the soldiers and sailors were of mature age; some were approaching old age. By the numerous scars with which the greater number were marked, it was evident that they had served a long time. More than two hundred men were assembled on this galley, and yet the silence of the cloister reigned through it. If the crew remained silent through terror of the whip of the keepers and overseers, the soldiers and sailors obeyed the pious customs maintained by the commander Pierre des Anbiez. For more than thirty years that he had commanded this galley of religion, he had tried always to preserve the same equipment, replacing only the men that he had lost. The severity of discipline established on board Our Lady of Seven Sorrows was well known at Malta. The commander was perhaps the only one of the officers of the religion who exacted a strict observance of the rules of the order. His galley, on board of which he received only men who had been proven, became a sort of nomadic convent,--a voluntary rendezvous for all sailors who wished to assure their salvation by binding themselves scrupulously to the rigorous requirements of this hospitable and military confraternity. It was the same with the officers and young caravan-iflits. Those who preferred to lead a joyous and daring life--which was the immense majority--found the greater part of the captains of the religion disposed to welcome them, and to forget everything in their union against the infidels, as their mission of monk-soldiers was at the same time that of saint and warrior. On the contrary, the very small number of young chevaliers who loved, for its own sake, this pious and austere life in the midst of great perils, sought with eagerness the opportunity to embark on the galley of the commander Pierre des Anbiez. There nothing offended, nothing prevented their religious customs. There they could give themselves up to their holy exercises without fear of being ridiculed, or of becoming perhaps weak enough to blush for their own zeal. The master gunner, or captain of the mast of the galley, an old sunburnt soldier, wearing a black felt jacket with a white cross, was seated in the guard-house of the prow, or rambade, of which we have spoken. He was talking with the captain of the sailors of _Our Lady of Seven Sorrows_, whose name was Simon. The first speaker was Captain Hugues, who, with his companion, had always sailed with the Commander des Anbiez. Captain Hugues was polishing with care a collar of steel net. Captain Simon from time to time was looking through the opening of the rambade, examining the sky and the sea, so as to prognosticate the end or the increase of the storm. “Brother,” said Hugues to Simon, “the north wind blows strong; it will be several days before we arrive at La Ciotat. Christmas will be past, and our brother commander will be grieved.” Captain Simon, before replying to his comrade, consulted the horizon again, and said, with a serious air: