But Freya repelled the vigorous sailor with facility. He
appeared to be lacking in force, without the courage to repeat his
rough action. The beauty of this woman made him afraid. He was still
thrilled by the contact of her firm body which he had just torched
during their short struggle. His drowsing virtue had suffered the
torments of a fruitless resurrection. "Ah, no!... Let somebody else
take charge of putting her off."

"Ulysses, they're taking me away!" she cried, again putting her mouth
to the keyhole. "And you, my love, will you permit it?... You who used
to love me so?..."

After this desperate call, she remained silent for a few instants. The
door maintained its immobility; behind it there seemed to be no living
being.

"Farewell!" she continued in a low voice, her throat choked with sobs,
"you will see me no more.... I am soon going to die; my heart tells me
so.... To die because of you!... Perhaps some day you will weep on
recalling that you might have saved me."

Some one had intervened to force Freya from her rebellious standstill.
It was Caragol, solicited by the mate's imploring eyes.

His great hairy hands helped her to arise, without making her repeat
the protest that had repelled Toni. Conquered and bursting into tears,
she appeared to yield to the paternal aid and counsel of the cook.

"Up now, my good lady!" said Caragol. "A little more courage and don't
cry any more.... There is some consolation for everything in this
world."

In his bulky right hand he imprisoned her two, and, passing his other
arm around her waist, he was guiding her little by little toward the
exit from the salon.

"Trust in God," he added. "Why do you seek the captain who has his own
wife ashore?... Other men who are free are still in existence, and you
could make some arrangement with them without falling into mortal sin."

Freya was not listening to him. Near the door she again turned her
head, beginning her return toward the captain's stateroom.

"Ulysses!... Ulysses!" she cried.

"Trust in God, Senora," said Caragol again, while he was pushing her
along with his flabby abdomen and shaggy breast.

A charitable idea was taking possession of his thoughts. He had the
remedy for the grief of this handsome woman whose desperation but made
her more interesting.

"Come along, Senora.... Leave it to me, my child."

Upon reaching the deck he continued driving her towards his dominions.
Freya found herself seated in