opted a
conciliatory tone like that of a father who wishes to convince his
scowling and stubborn son.

The German submersibles would confine themselves, in the Mediterranean,
to military actions only. There was no danger of their attacking
defenseless barks as in the northern seas. Their drastic exploits there
had been imposed by circumstances, by the sincere desire of terminating
the war as quickly as possible, by giving terrifying and unheard-of
blows.

"I assure you that in our sea there will be nothing of that sort.
People who ought to know have told me so.... If that had not been the
case, I should not have promised to give them aid."

He affirmed this several times in good faith, with absolute confidence
in the people who had given him their promise.

"They will sink, if they can, the ships of the Allies that are in the
Dardanelles. But what does that matter to us?... That is war! When we
were carrying cannons and guns to the revolutionists in South America
we did not trouble ourselves about the use which they might make of
them, did we?"

Toni persisted in his negative.

"It is not the same thing.... I don't know how to express myself, but
it is not the same. There, cannon can be answered by cannon. He who
strikes also receives blows.... But to aid the submarines is a very
different thing. They attack, hidden, without danger.... And I, for my
part, do not like treachery."

Finally his mate's insistence exasperated Ferragut, exhausting his
enforced good nature.

"We will say no more about it," he said haughtily. "I am the captain
and I command as I see fit.... I have given my promise, and I am not
going to break it just to please you.... We have finished."

Toni staggered as though he had just received a blow on the breast. His
eyes shone again, becoming moist. After a long period of reflection, he
held out his shaggy right hand to the captain.

"Good-by, Ulysses!..."

He could not obey, and a sailor who takes disrespectful exception to
the orders of his chief must leave the ship. In no other boat could he
ever live as in the _Mare Nostrum_. Perhaps he might not get another
job, perhaps the other captains might not like him, considering him to
have grown too habituated to excessive familiarity. But, if it should
be necessary, he would again become the skipper of a little
coast-trader.... Good-by! He would not sleep on board that night.

Ferragut was very indignant, even yelling angrily:

"But, do