fancy; he could establish a restaurant which would soon
become famous for its Olympian rice dishes. His nephews who were
fishermen would receive him like a god. He could also be partner in a
couple of barks, dedicated to fishing for the _bou_. There was awaiting
him a happy and honorable old age; his former sailing companions were
going to look upon him with envy. He could get up late in the morning;
he could go to the cafes; as a rich devotee he could figure in all the
religious processions of the Grau and of the Cabanal; he could have a
place of honor in the holy processions....

Heretofore, when Ferragut was talking, Uncle Caragol had always
mechanically interrupted him, saying: "That is so, my captain." For the
first time he was not nodding his head nor smiling with his sun-like
face. He was pale and gloomy. He shook his round head energetically and
said laconically:

"No, my captain."

Before the glance of astonishment which Ulysses flashed upon him, he
found it necessary to explain himself.

"What am I ever going to do ashore?... Who is expecting me there?... Or
what business with my family would have any interest for me?..."

Ferragut seemed to be hearing an echo of his own thoughts. He, like the
cook, would have nothing to do on land.... He was mortally bored when
far from the sea, just as in those months when, still young, he had
believed that he could create for himself a new profession in
Barcelona. Besides, it was impossible to return to his home, taking up
life again with his wife; it would be simply losing his last illusions.
It would be better to view from afar all that remained of his former
existence.

Caragol, meanwhile, was going on talking. His nephews would not
remember the poor old cook and he had no reason to trouble himself
about their fate, making them rich. He would prefer to remain just
where he was, without money but happy.

"Let the others go!" he said with childish selfishness. "Let Toni
go!... I'm going to stay.... I've got to stay. When the captain goes,
then Uncle Caragol will go."

Ulysses enumerated the great dangers that the boat was about to face.
The German submarines were lying in wait for it with deadly
determination; there would be combats ... they would be torpedoed....

The old man's smile showed contempt of all such dangers. He was certain
that nothing bad could possibly happen to the _Mare Nostrum_. The
furies of the sea were unavailing against it and still less co