He abandoned the shelter of a hillock of coal, advancing over an open space.  He concentrated all his will power upon gaining his vessel as quickly as possible.

A swift flame flashed out, followed by a report.  They were already shooting at him.  Other little lights began to twinkle from different sides of the dock, followed by reports of a gun.  It was a sharp cross-fire; behind him, they were firing, too.  He felt various whistlings near his ears, and received a blow on the shoulder,—­a sensation like that from a hot stone.

They were going to kill him.  His enemies were too many for him.  And, without knowing exactly what he was doing, yielding to instinct, he threw himself on the ground like a dying person.

Some few shots were still sounding.  Then all was silent.  Only on the nearby ship the dog was continuing its howling.

He saw a shadow advancing slowly toward him.  It was a man, one of his enemies, coming out from the group in order to examine him at close range.  He let him come close up to him, with his right hand grasping his revolver still intact.

Suddenly he raised his arm, striking the head that was bending over him.  Two lightning streaks flashed from his hand, separated by a brief interval.  The first flitting blaze of fire made him see a familiar face....  Was it really Karl, the doctor’s factotum?...  The second explosion aided his memory.  Yes, it was Karl, with his features disfigured by a black gash in the temple....  The German pulled himself up with an agonizing shudder, then fell on his back, with his arms relaxed.

This vision was instantaneous.  The captain must think only of himself now, and springing up with a bound, he ran and ran, bending himself double, in order to offer the enemy the least possible mark.

He dreaded a general discharge, a hail of bullets; but his pursuers hesitated a few moments, confused in the darkness and not knowing surely whether it was the captain who had fallen a second time.

Only upon seeing a man running toward the ship did they recognize their error, and renew their shots.  Ferragut passed between the balls along the edge of the wharf, the whole length of the Mare Nostrum.  His salvation was now but a matter of seconds provided that the crew had not drawn in the gangplank between the steamer and the shore.

Suddenly he found himself on the gangplank, at the same time seeing a man advancing toward him with something gleaming in one hand.  It was the mate who had just come out with his knife drawn.

The captain feared that he might make a mistake.

“Toni, it is I,” he said in a voice almost breathless because of the effort of his running.

Upon treading the deck of his vessel, he instantly recovered his tranquillity.

Already the shots had ceased and the silence was ominous.  In the distance could be heard whistlings, cries of alarm, the noise of running.  The Carabineers and guards were called and grouped together in order to charge in the dark, marching toward the spot where the shooting had sounded.