chooner passed within sight of the Liparian archipelago; then,
twisting its course toward the west, followed the coast of Sicily, from
Cape Gallo to the Cape of Vito. From there it turned its prow to the
southeast, heading toward the Aegadian Islands.

It had to wait in the waters where the Mediterranean was beginning to
narrow between Tunis and Sicily, where the volcanic peak of the
Pantellarian Island rises up in the middle of the immense strait.

Brief indications from the count were sufficient to make the course
followed by Ferragut in accordance with his desire. He finally could
not hide his admiration for the Spaniard's mastery of navigation.

"You know your sea well," said the count.

The captain shrugged his shoulders, smiling. It truly was his. He could
call it "_mare nostrum_" just as the Romans and their former rulers had
done.

As though divining the subsea depths by a simple glance, he kept his
boat within the limits of the extensive ledge of the Aventura. He was
navigating slowly with only a few sails, crossing and recrossing the
same water.

Kaledine, after two days had passed by, began to grow uneasy. Several
times it sounded to Ferragut as though he were muttering the name of
Gibraltar. The passage from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean was the
greatest danger for those that he was expecting.

From the deck of the schooner he was able to see only a short distance,
and the count clambered up the rigging in order that his eyes might
take in a more extensive sweep.

One morning up aloft he called something to the captain, pointing out a
speck on the horizon. He must steer in that very direction. What he was
seeking was over there.

Ferragut obeyed him, and half an hour later there appeared, one after
the other, two long, low boats, moving with great velocity. They were
like destroyers, but without mastheads, without smokestacks, skimming
along almost on a level with the water, painted in a gray that made
them seem a short distance away of the same color as the sea. They came
around on both sides of the sailboat as though they were going to crush
it with the meeting of their hulls. Various metallic cables came up
from their decks and were thrown over the bitts of the schooner,
fastening it to them, and forming the three vessels into a solid mass
that, united, followed the slow undulation of the sea.

Ulysses examined curiously his two companions in this improvised float.
Were these the famous su