lied Freya.

Again he persisted in his calculations, and she affirmed that only
three weeks had passed by since his steamer had left Naples.

"I shall have to go," said Ulysses hesitatingly. "They will be
expecting me in Barcelona; I have no news.... What will become of my
vessel?..."

She who generally listened to these inquiries with a distraught air,
not wishing to understand his timid insinuations, responded one
afternoon unequivocally:

"The time is approaching when you are going to fulfill your word of
honor in regard to sacrificing yourself for me. Soon you will be able
to go to Barcelona, and I--I shall join you there. If I am not able to
go, we shall meet again.... The world is very small."

Her thought did not go beyond this sacrifice exacted of Ferragut. After
that, who could tell where she would stop?...

Two afternoons later, the doctor and the count summoned the sailor. The
lady's voice, always so good-natured and protecting, now assumed a
slight accent of command.

"Everything is all ready, Captain." As she had not been able to avail
herself of his steamer, she had prepared another boat for him. He was
merely to follow the instructions of the count who would show him the
bark of which he was going to take command.

The two men went away together. It was the first time that Ulysses had
gone out in the street without Freya, and in spite of his enamored
enthusiasm, he felt an agreeable sensation of freedom.

They went down to the shore and in the little harbor of the _Castello
dell' Ovo_ passed over the plank that served as a bridge between the
dock and a little schooner with a greenish hull. Ferragut, who had
taken in its exterior with a single glance, ran his eye over its
deck.... "Eighty tons." Then he examined the apparatus and the
auxiliary machinery,--a petroleum motor which permitted it to make
seven miles an hour whenever the sails did not find a breeze.

He had seen on the poop the name of the boat and its destination,
guessing at once the class of navigation to which it was dedicated. It
was a Sicilian schooner from Trapani, built for fishing. An artistic
calker had sculptured a wooden cray-fish climbing over the rudder. From
the two sides of the prow dangled a double row of cray-fish carved with
the innocent prolixity of medieval imagination.

Coming out of the hatchway, Ferragut saw half of the hold full of
boxes. He recognized this cargo; each one of these boxes contained two
cans