“There is not a moment to lose,” said the commander, after a few moments’ reflection. Then addressing Luquin, he said: “Run to the port, and issue my order to the king of the chevaliers to prepare my galley for immediate departure. Do you follow with your polacre. Where did the coxswain Nicard meet the _Red Galleon?_” “Near the island of St. Fereol, monseigneur.” “Then we only need to watch the coast this side of the island of St. Fereol As soon as you put to sea, set all your sails so as to examine every point on the coast which may serve as a retreat for the pirates. If you see anything suspicious, give me warning. I will keep in sight of your vessel.” “May Heaven bless your undertaking, monseigneur, and grant that I may be able to aid you.” Luquin Trinquetaille, inspired by the hope of recovering Stephanette, and eager to wreak his vengeance upon the Bohemian, ran to the port in all possible haste. Pierre des Anbiez returned to the baron’s chamber. The surgeon from the galley already saw signs of hope in the improved respiration and more quiet sleep of the wounded man. The commander gazed sadly and thoughtfully at his brother. Presentiments he could not conquer told him that this day would prove a fatal one to him. It grieved him much to leave the baron without being recognised by him, but time pressed, and he approached the bed, leaned over the patient, and, kissing his cold cheeks, said, in a low and broken voice: “Farewell, my poor brother, farewell.” When he rose, his hard and austere countenance betrayed his emotion, and a tear flowed down his cheek. “Embrace me, my brother,” said he to Elzear, “I am going into battle, and into a bloody battle, for the _Red Galleon_ is intrepid. I hope to meet these pirates in some harbour on the coast.” “M. Commander, I shall follow you,” cried Honorât de Berrol, “although it pains me to leave Raimond V. at such a time. I ask you to accept me as a volunteer.” Pierre des Anbiez seemed agitated by an inward struggle. He recognised the courage of Honorât, but he also realised the danger of the enterprise he was about to undertake, and foresaw that it would result in one of the most desperate encounters in which they had ever taken part. “I understand your interest,” said he to Honorât. “We will meet the pirates, and succeed, perhaps, in rescuing Reine des Anbiez, but if I do not return, and if his daughter should not return, who will console him?” and he pointed to the baron. “Does he not love you as a second son?” “And if you do not return, and if his daughter does not return,” eried Honorât, “who will console me for not having followed you, and for not having shared your dangers?” “Come, then,” said the commander, “I cannot combat your noble resolution any longer. Let us go. Farewell, again, my brother, pray for us,” added the soldier, tenderly embracing his brother Elzear.