“That is true, Luquin, we thought we were lost What weather! what waves! we thought we had escaped one danger only to fall into another.” “Yes, yes. Ah, well, what was it passed within range of my cannon during the hurricane?” “How do I know? I was too much frightened and too much occupied with my mistress to see what was happening around us.” “Indeed, Stephanette! Ah, well, it was the chebec of that cursed Bohemian whom hell leaves on this earth I know not why. Yes, it was his chebec that was near us. He had, by chance, anchored his ship so far from the galleys that he did not feel the explosion. Two hours after, when he had brought M. Commander, M. Honorât, and that poor young man on board the galley, taking advantage of the commander’s forgetfulness, who neglected to have him hanged, he had the audacity to set sail again, and it was he we saw pass us, returning, no doubt, to the south, where he will be drowned or burned if the good God wishes to finish the example he has already given us in destroying the two galleys of these infidels. That is what I wish may happen to him.” “Come, come, Luquin, you are so enraged against this wretch; do not think of him any more. Yet it was he who brought on board the black galley Mlle. Reine, me, my companions, the prisoners, the recorder Isnard and his clerk, who were among the captives, and who never ceased to call him our deliverer. So do have a little pity on your neighbour--” “My neighbour! that miserable vagabond! My neighbour! the neighbour of Satan! That is what he is!” “Ah, how wicked you are in your hatred!” “Come, now, that is pretty good!” cried Luquin, in a fury, “that is the way you defend him now! You can do no more than regret him. Besides, he said, really, that you would regret him, and perhaps he was not wrong!” “Indeed, if you begin your jealousy again, you will make me regret him.” “Regret him--him! you dare--” “Without doubt; for at least, one time in his ship, he left me to weep and grieve in peace, and--” “But that was not what he said. H’m--h’m--the honeyed words of this insolent prattler were quite capable of making you forget your grief for a time, no doubt.” Stephanette, indignant, was about to reply to her betrothed, when the whistle of Mlle, des Anbiez called her to that lady’s apartment. She entered, after having thrown an angry glance at Luquin. The captain was in the way of repenting of his suspicions when the majordomo Laramée, coming precipitately out of the chamber of Raimond V., said: “Here you are, Luquin, come quick and help me to carry monseigneur to the commander. He is too weak to walk; we will carry him in his armchair.” Luquin followed Laramée, and entered the baron’s chamber. The old gentleman was still very pale, a wide black bandage wrapped his head, but he had partly recovered his vivacity and his energy. Abbé Mascarolus was with him. “You say, then, abbé, that this poor young man is about to die, and he wishes to speak to me?”