The king took a bottle and swallowed a little wine first, then he passed it to his companions, who drank in their turn:  necessity had overcome etiquette.  By chance Langlade had on him a few chocolates, which he offered to the king.  Murat divided them into four equal parts, and forced his companions to take their shares; then, when the meal was over, they steered for Corsica, but the boat had suffered so much that it was improbable that it would reach Bastia.

The whole day passed without making ten miles; the boat was kept under the jib, as they dared not hoist the mainsail, and the wind. was so variable that much time was lost in humouring its caprices.

By evening the boat had drawn a considerable amount of water, it penetrated between the boards, the handkerchiefs of the crew served to plug up the leaks, and night, which was descending in mournful gloom, wrapped them a second time in darkness.  Prostrated with fatigue, Murat fell asleep, Blancard and Langlade took their places. beside Donadieu, and the three men, who seemed insensible to the calls of sleep and fatigue, watched over his slumbers.

The night was calm enough apparently, but low grumblings were heard now and then.

The three sailors looked at each other strangely and then at the king, who was sleeping at the bottom of the boat, his cloak soaked with sea-water, sleeping as soundly as he had slept on the sands of Egypt or the snows of Russia.

Then one of them got up and went to the other end of the boat, whistling between his teeth a Provencal air; then, after examining the sky, the waves; and the boat, he went back to his comrades and sat down, muttering, “Impossible!  Except by a miracle, we shall never make the land.”

The night passed through all its phases.  At dawn there was a vessel in sight.

“A sail!” cried Donadieu,—­“a sail!”

At this cry the king—­awoke; and soon a little trading brig hove in sight, going from Corsica to Toulon.

Donadieu steered for the brig, Blancard hoisted enough sail to work the boat, and Langlade ran to the prow and held up the king’s cloak on the end of a sort of harpoon.  Soon the voyagers perceived that they had been sighted, the brig went about to approach them, and in ten minutes they found themselves within fifty yards of it.  The captain appeared in the bows.  Then the king hailed him and offered him a substantial reward if he would receive them on board and take them to Corsica.  The captain listened to the proposal; then immediately turning to the crew, he gave an order in an undertone which Donadieu could not hear, but which he understood probably by the gesture, for he instantly gave Langlade and Blancard the order to make away from the schooner.  They obeyed with the unquestioning promptitude of sailors; but the king stamped his foot.

“What are you doing, Donadieu?  What are you about?  Don’t you see that she is coming up to us?”