“Although it is not proper for man to seek to divine the will of the Lord, I think we may hope to see the end of this tempest soon: the clouds seem not so low or so heavy. Perhaps to-morrow our ancient companion, the old watchman on Cape l’Aigle, will signal our arrival in the Gulf of La Ciotat.” “And that will be a day of joy in Maison-Forte, and to Raimond V.,” said Captain Hugues. “And also on board _Our Lady of Seven Sorrows_,” said Captain Simon, “although joy appears here as rarely as the sun during a westerly wind.” “Look at this furbished collar,” said the gunner, regarding his work with an air of satisfaction. “It is strange, Brother Simon, how blood will stick to steel. I have rubbed in vain: you can always distinguish these blackish marks on the mesh!” “Which proves that steel loves blood as the earth loves dew,” said the sailor, smiling sadly at his pleasantry. “But do you know,” said Hugues, “that it will soon be ten years since the commander received this wound in his combat with Mourad-Reis, the corsair of Algiers?” “I remember it as well, brother, as that with one blow of the battle-axe I struck down the miscreant who had almost broken his kangiar on the breast of the commander, who was fortunately defended by that coat of mail. But for that, Pierre des Anbiez would be dead.” “So he still keeps this collar, and I am going to carry it to him now.” “Stop,” said the sailor, seizing the gunner by the arm, “you have chosen an unfortunate time,--the brother commander is in one of his bad days.” “How?” “The head cook told me this morning that Father Elzear wished to enter the commander’s chamber, but there was crape on the door.” “I understand, I understand; that sign suffices to prevent the entrance of any person in the commander’s chamber before he gives the order to do so.” “Yet to-day is neither Saturday nor the seventeenth day of the month,” said Captain Hugues with a thoughtful air. “That is true, for it is only upon the return of these days that his fits of despondency seem to overwhelm him the most,” said Captain Simon. Just at this moment a deep, hollow murmur was heard outside among the crew. There was nothing ominous of evil in this noise; on the contrary, it was only an expression of satisfaction. “What is that?” asked the gunner. “Doubtless Reverend Father Elzear has just appeared on deck. At the very sight of him the slaves think their lot less miserable.” CHAPTER XXII. THE BROTHER OF MERCY Elzear des Anbiez, brother of the sacred order, royal and military, of Our Lady of Mercy, for the redemption of captives, had in fact just appeared on the deck of the galley. The slaves welcomed his presence with a murmur of hope and satisfaction, for he always had some word of pity for these unhappy men.