Preparations for the fight went on in the most profound silence. The calm, austere countenances of the soldiers of the cross showed that they found nothing unusual in these preliminary details. The chevaliers carefully inspected the different services with which they were charged; so seriously was every duty performed, that one might have thought the actors were preparing for some religious rite. At the stern, the assembled chevaliers made a rigid examination of the position of the two galleys commanded by the pirates. When Luquin Trinquetaille arrived on deck, the overseer ordered him to attend the commander, who was expected there. Pierre des Anbiez, kneeling in his chamber, was fervently praying. Since his departure from Maison-Forte, the gloomiest presentiments had assailed his mind. In the poignancy of his remorse, he had seen a providential coincidence in his return and the frightful disasters which had just overwhelmed his family. He accused himself of having, by his own crime, called down the vengeance of Heaven upon the house of Anbiez. His imagination, unnaturally excited by the violent emotions which had shaken his whole being, evoked the strangest phantoms. As he cast a serious yet fearful glance upon the portrait of Pog,--the Count de Montreuil,--which was hanging in his chamber, it seemed to him that the eyes of this portrait glowed with a supernatural brilliancy. Twice he approached the frame to assure himself that he was not the sport of an illusion; twice he recoiled terrified, feeling his brow bathed in a cold sweat, and his hair standing up on his head. Then he was struck with dizziness,--his reason forsook him,--he saw nothing more. Objects unnamable passed before his eyes with frightful rapidity; it seemed to him that he was being transported on the wings of a whirlwind. By degrees he came to himself,--the aberration was past, and he found himself in his chamber on the galley, face to face with the portrait of Pog. For the first time in his life he felt a dark and painful presentiment at the thought of going into battle. Instead of burning with that wild enthusiasm which characterised him, instead of thinking with a sort of ferocious joy upon the tumult of the fray, which had so often stifled the remorse which cried aloud in his soul, his thoughts turned involuntarily to death and disaster. He started, as he asked himself if his soul was ready to appear before the Lord,--if the austerities which he had imposed upon himself for so many years sufficed for the expiation of his crime. Terrified, he fell upon his knees, and began to pray with fervour, beseeching God to give him the courage and the strength to accomplish his last mission,--once more to uplift the cross triumphantly, and to rescue Reine des Anbiez from the hands of her ravishers. He had scarcely finished his prayer when some one knocked at his door. He rose to his feet. The artilleryman, Captain Hugues, appeared. “What do you want?”