rriages in order to visit the
more picturesque suburbs. For four days he persisted in his inquiries
without any result.

He began to doubt Uncle Caragol's veracity. Perhaps he had been drunk
on returning to the ship, and had made up such an encounter. But the
recollection of that paper written by her discounted such a
supposition.... Freya was in Brest.

The cook explained it all simply enough when the captain besieged him
with fresh questions.

"The lady-bird must just be passing through. Perhaps she flitted away
that same evening.... That meeting was just a chance encounter."

Ferragut had to give up his investigations. The defensive work on the
ship was about terminated and the holds contained their cargo of
projectiles for the army of the Orient and various unmounted guns. He
received his sailing orders, and one gray and rainy morning they lifted
anchor and steamed out of the bay of Brest. The fog made even more
difficult the passage between the reefs that obstruct this port. They
passed before the lugubrious Bay of the Dead, ancient cemetery of
sailboats, and continued their navigation toward the south in search of
the strait in order to enter the Mediterranean.

Ferragut felt increased pride in examining the new aspect of the _Mare
Nostrum_. The wireless telegraph was going to keep him in contact with
the world. He was no longer a merchant captain, slave of destiny,
trusting to good luck, and incapable of repelling an attack. The
radiographic stations were watching for him the entire length of the
coast, advising him of changes in his course that he might avoid the
ambushed enemy. The apparatus was constantly hissing and sustaining
invisible dialogues. Besides, mounted on the stern was a cannon covered
with a canvas hood, ready to begin work.

The dreams of his childhood when he used to devour stories of corsairs
and novels of maritime adventures seemed about to be realized. He was
now entitled to call himself "Captain of Sea and War" like the ancient
navigators. If a submarine should pass before him, he would attack it
from the prow; if it should try to pursue him, he would respond with
the cannon.

His adventurous humor actually made him anxious for one of these
encounters. A maritime combat had not yet occurred in his life, and he
wished to see how these modest and silent men who had made war on land
and contemplated death at close range, would demean themselves.

It was not long before his desire was