Two galleys and a chebec appeared at the eastern point of the bay,--a point which he alone was able to discover from the height of Cape l’Aigle. These vessels were slowly doubling the promontory with the utmost precaution. With one last effort he straightened himself up to his full height, and cried, in a feeble voice, “Pirates!” He stumbled as he tried to walk to the pile where were collected all sorts of combustible material ready to be kindled at a moment’s notice. The moment he reached it he fell, deprived of consciousness. The Bohemian, who had been watching his every movement, then appeared just where the foot-path entered the esplanade, and advanced with the greatest circumspection. Hiding himself behind the cabin, he listened, and heard only the laboured breathing of the watchman. Certain of the effect of his soporific, he approached Peyrou, stooped down, and touched his hands and his forehead and found that they were cold. “The dose is strong,” said he, “perhaps too strong. So much the worse, I did not wish to kill him.” Then advancing to the edge of the precipice, he saw distinctly the three pirate vessels in the distance. Moving slowly and cautiously, for fear of being discovered, they made use of oars to reach the entrance of the port, where the Bohemian was to join them. The practised eye of Hadji recognised in front of the two galleys certain luminous points or flames, which were nothing else than torches designed to burn the city and the fishing-boats. “By Eblis! they are going to smoke these citizens like foxes in their burrows. It is time, perhaps, for this old man to go to sleep for ever; but we must visit his cabin. I will have time to descend. I will be on the beach soon enough to seize a boat and join Captain Pog, who expects me before he begins the attack. Let us enter; they say the old man hides a treasure here.” Hadji took a brand from the fireplace and lit a lamp. The first object which met his eye was a trunk or box of sculptured ebony placed near the watchman’s bed. “That is a costly piece of furniture for such a recluse.” Not finding a key, he took a hatchet, broke open the lock, and opened the two leaves of the door; the shelves were empty. “It is not natural to lock up nothing with so much precaution; time presses, but this key will open everything.” He took up the hatchet again, and in a moment the ebony case was in pieces. A double bottom fell apart. The Bohemian uttered a cry of joy as he perceived the little embossed silver casket of which we have spoken, and on which was marked a Maltese cross. This casket, which was quite heavy, was fastened no doubt by a secret spring, as neither key nor lock could be discovered.