“Good-bye!...  Good-bye.”

Forgetting the presence of the haughty witness, she embraced Ulysses ardently; then she burst out weeping with a nervous sobbing.  It seemed to him that she had never been so sincere as in that moment.  And he had to make a great effort to disentangle himself from her embrace.

“Good-bye!...  Good-bye!...”

Then he followed the count without daring to turn his head, suspecting that her eyes were still upon him.

On the shores of S. Lucia, he saw in the distance his old hotel with its illuminated windows.  The porter was preceding a young man who was just descending from a carriage, carrying a suit-case.  Ferragut was instantly reminded of his son Esteban.  The young tourist bore a certain resemblance to him....  And Ferragut continued on, smiling rather bitterly at this inopportune recollection.

On entering the schooner he encountered Karl, the doctor’s factotum, who had brought his little baggage and had just installed it in his cabin.  “He could retire."...  Then he looked over the crew.  In addition to the three old Sicilians he now saw seven husky young fellows, blonde and stout, with rolled-up sleeves.  They were talking Italian, but the captain had no doubt as, to their real nationality.

As some of them were already beginning to weigh anchor, Ferragut looked at the count as though inviting him to depart.  The boat was gradually detaching itself from the dock.  They were going to draw in the gangplank which had served as a bridge.

“I’m going, too,” said Kaledine.  This trip interests Ulysses, who was disposed not to be surprised at anything in this extraordinary voyage, merely exclaimed courteously, “So much the better!” He was no longer concerned with him, and devoted all his efforts to conducting the boat out of the little harbor, directing its course through the gulf.  The glass windows on the shore of S. Lucia trembled with the vibration of the motor of the decrepit steamer—­an old and scandalous piece of machinery imitating the paddling of a tired dog.  Meanwhile the sails were unfurled and swelling under the first gusts of the wind.

The trip lasted three days.  The first night, the captain enjoyed the selfish delights of resting alone.  He was living among men....  And he appreciated the satisfaction chastity offered with all the enchantments of novelty.

The second night, in the narrow and noisome cabin of the skipper, he felt wakeful because of the memories that were again springing up.  Oh, Freya!...  When would he ever see her again?

The count and he conversed little, but passed long hours together, seated at the side of the wheel looking out on the sea.  They were more friendly than on land, although they exchanged very few words.  The common life lessened the haughtiness of the pretended diplomat and enabled the captain to discover new merits in his personality.  The freedom with which he was going through the boat, and certain technical words employed against his will, left no doubt in Ferragut’s mind regarding his true profession.