Peyrol, had dropped his head and folded his arms on his breast. And that attitude was dubious, too. It might have been resignation or it might have been profound sleep. The rover addressed himself first to the lieutenant. “Le moment approche,” said Peyrol with a queer twitch at a corner of his lip, while under his soft woollen cap his venerable locks stirred in the breath of a suddenly warm air. “The great moment--eh?” He leaned over the big tiller, and seemed to be hovering above the lieutenant’s shoulder. “What’s this infernal company?” murmured the latter without even looking at Peyrol. “All old friends--quoi?” said Peyrol in a homely tone. “We will keep that little affair amongst ourselves. The fewer the men, the greater the glory. Catherine is getting the vegetables ready for the noonday soup and the Englishman is coming down towards the Passe, where he will arrive about noon too, ready to have his eye put out. You know, lieutenant, that will be your job. You may depend on me for sending you off when the moment comes. For what is it to you? You have no friends, you have not even a petite amie. As to expecting an old rover like me--oh no, lieutenant! Of course liberty is sweet, but what do you know of it, you epaulette-wearers? Moreover, I am no good for quarter-deck talks and all that politeness.” “I wish, Peyrol, you would not talk so much,” said Lieutenant Réal, turning his head slightly. He was struck by the strange expression on the old rover’s face. “And I don’t see what the actual moment matters. I am going to look for the fleet. All you have to do is to hoist the sails for me and then scramble ashore.” “Very simple,” observed Peyrol through his teeth, and then began to sing: “Quoique leurs chapeaux sont bien laids God-dam! Moi, j’aime les Anglais Ils ont un si bon caractère!” but interrupted himself suddenly to hail Scevola: “Hé! Citoyen!” and then remarked confidentially to Réal: “He isn’t asleep, you know, but he isn’t like the English, he has a sacré mauvais caractère. He got into his head,” continued Peyrol, in a loud and innocent tone, “that you locked him up in this cabin last night. Did you notice the venomous glance he gave you just now?”