While the eagle was devouring the Bohemian’s messenger in peace, Peyrou returned to the door of his cell, took up his telescope, and vainly examined the rocks on the coast, in order to discover the Bohemian; he had disappeared. While he was occupied with this new investigation, the watchman saw on the shore the carriage of Raimond V. The baron had mounted Laramée’s horse, and was riding by the side of Reine, and doubtless accompanied her to Maison-Forte. Thinking the eagle had finished her feast, the watchman directed his steps to her eyrie. Brilliant was no longer there, but among the bones and feathers of the pigeon he saw the little sack, opened it, and found there a letter of a few lines written in Arabic. Unfortunately, Peyrou was not acquainted with that language. Only, in his frequent campaigns against the Barbary pirates, he had noticed in the letters of marque of the corsairs the word Reis, which means captain, and which always followed the name of the commander of the vessels. In the letter which he had just captured, he found the word Reis three times. He thought the Bohemian was possibly the secret emissary of some Barbary pirate, whose ship, ambuscaded in one of the deserted bays along the coast, was waiting for some signal to land her soldiers. The Bohemian probably had left this ship in order to come to Maison-Forte, bringing his pigeons with him, and it is well known with what intelligence these birds return to the places they are accustomed to inhabit. As he raised his head to obtain another view of the horizon, the watchman saw in the distance, on the azure line which separated the sky from the sea, certain triangular sails of unusual height, which seemed to him suspicious. He turned his telescope on them; a second examination confirmed him in the idea that the chebec in sight belonged to some pirate. For some time he followed the manoeuvres of the vessel. Instead of advancing to the coast, the chebec seemed to run along broadside, and to beat about, in spite of the increasing violence of the wind, as if it were waiting for a guide or signal. The watchman was trying to connect in his thought the sending of the pigeon with the appearance of this vessel of bad omen, when a light noise made him raise his head. The Bohemian stood before him. CHAPTER XIX. THE LITTLE SATCHEL The little satchel and the open letter were lying on the watchman’s knees. With a movement more rapid than thought, which escaped the observation of the Bohemian, he hid the whole in his girdle. At the same time he assured himself that his long Catalonian knife would come out of its scabbard easily, for the sinister countenance of the vagabond did not inspire confidence. For some moments these two men looked at each other in silence, and measured each other with their eyes. Although old, the watchman was still fresh and vigorous. The Bohemian, more slender, was much younger, and seemed hardy and resolute.