“And if the old Provençal finds your voice disagreeable, he will give you a leather strap, as if you were a badly taught child, my boy,” said Trimalcyon. “I will reply to the old gentleman by seizing his daughter in my arms, and singing to him those verses of Hadji: “‘Till sixteen years old, the daughter belongs to her father. “At sixteen years old, the daughter belongs to the lover.’” “And if the good man insists, you will give him, for your last word, your kangiar to end the conversation?” “That comes of course, Empty-Cup. Who carries off the daughter, kills the father,” added Erebus, with an ironical smile. Trimalcyon wagged his head, and said to Pog, who seemed more and more absorbed in his gloomy thoughts: “The young peacock is laughing at us, he is jesting, he will do some shepherd-swain nonsense with that girl.” “Has the French spy returned from the islands?” asked Pog of Erebus. “Not yet, Captain Pog,” replied the young sailor; “he departed with his stick and his wallet, disguised as a beggar. He will be here, without doubt, in an hour. I waited for him in vain. Seeing that he did not arrive, I came in my long-boat; the barge which landed him on the shore will bring him back here. But shall we attack La Ciotat or Marseilles, Captain Pog?” “Marseilles, unless the report of the spy makes me change my opinion,” said Pog. “And on our return, shall we not stop a moment at La Ciotat?” asked Erebus. “Hadji is expecting us.” “And your beautiful maiden also, my boy. Ah! ah! you are more impatient to see her beautiful eyes than the gaping mouths of the cannon of the castle,” said Trimalcyon, “and you are right, I do not reproach you for it.” “By the cross of Malta, which I abhor!” cried Erebus, with impatience, “I would rather never see that lovely girl in the cabin of my chebec than not to sound my war-cry at the attack of Marseilles. Captain Pog knows that in all our combats with the French or with the galleys of religion, my arm, although young, has dealt some heavy blows.” “Be quiet! whether we attack Marseilles or not, you will be able to approach La Ciotat with your chebec and carry off your maiden. I will not allow you to lose this new chance of damning your soul, my dear child,” said Pog, with a sinister laugh. “My soul? You have always told me, Captain Pog, that I had no soul,” replied the unhappy Erebus, with a bantering indifference.