Once set at liberty, it did not hesitate, but rose almost perpendicularly above the Bohemian, then flew rapidly toward the east. As quick as thought, Peyrou took his eagle and tried to make her perceive the pigeon, which already appeared no larger than a white speck in space. For a few seconds the eagle did not seem to see the bird; then, suddenly uttering a hoarse cry, she violently spread her broad wings, and started in pursuit of the Bohemian’s emissary. Either the unfortunate pigeon was warned by the instinct of danger which threatened it, or it heard the discordant cries of its enemy, for it redoubled its swiftness, and flew with the rapidity of an arrow. Once it endeavoured to rise above the eagle, hoping perhaps to escape its pursuer by disappearing in the low, dark clouds which veiled the horizon; but the eagle, with one swoop of her powerful wings, mounted to such a height, that the pigeon, unable to cope with its adversary, rapidly fell within a few feet of the surface of the sea, grazing the top of the highest waves. Brilliant still followed her victim in this new manoeuvre. The watchman was divided between the desire to see the end of the struggle between the eagle and the pigeon, and the curiosity to watch the countenance of the Bohemian. Thanks to his telescope, he saw the Bohemian in a state of extraordinary excitement as he followed with intense anxiety the diverse chances of destruction or safety left to his messenger. Finally, the pigeon attempted one last effort; realising, no doubt, that its destination was too far to be reached, it tried to return and come back to the coast, and thus escape its terrible enemy. Unfortunately, its strength failed; its flight became heavy, and, approaching too near the waves, it was swept by foam and water. The eagle availed herself of the moment when the pigeon was painfully resuming its embarrassed flight to fall upon it with the rapidity of a thunderbolt. She seized the pigeon in her strong claws, rose swiftly in the direction of the promontory, and came with her prey to take refuge in her eyrie, on a rock not far from the watchman’s sentry-box. Peyrou rose quickly to take the pigeon from her; he could not succeed. The natural ferocity of Brilliant was in the ascendency; she bristled her feathers, uttered sharp and fierce cries, and showed herself disposed to defend her prey with her life. Peyrou feared to offend her, lest she might fly away and hide in some inaccessible rock; he allowed her to devour the pigeon in peace, having observed that the little sack tied around the neck of the bird consisted of two silver plates fastened by a small chain of the same material. He did not, after that discovery, fear the destruction of the letter which he knew was enclosed therein.