The little satchel and the open letter were lying on the watchman’s knees. With a movement more rapid than thought, which escaped the observation of the Bohemian, he hid the whole in his girdle. At the same time he assured himself that his long Catalonian knife would come out of its scabbard easily, for the sinister countenance of the vagabond did not inspire confidence.

For some moments these two men looked at each other in silence, and measured each other with their eyes.

Although old, the watchman was still fresh and vigorous.

The Bohemian, more slender, was much younger, and seemed hardy and resolute.

Peyrou was much annoyed by this visit. He wished to watch the manoeuvres of the suspicious chebec; the presence of the Bohemian constrained him.

“What do you want?” said the watchman, rudely.

“Nothing; I came to see the sun go down in the sea.”

“It is a beautiful sight, but it can be seen elsewhere.”

As he said these words, the watchman entered his cell, took two pistols, placed one in his girdle, loaded the other, took it in his hand, and came out.

By that time the chebec could be distinguished by the naked eye.

The Bohemian, seeing Peyrou armed, could not repress a movement of surprise, almost of vexation, but he said to him, in a bantering tone, as he pointed to the pistol:

“You carry there a strange telescope, watchman!”

“The other is good to watch your enemy when he is far off; this one serves my purpose when he is near.”

“Of what enemy are you speaking, watchman?”

“Of you.”

“Of me?”

“Of you.”

After exchanging these words, the men were silent for some time.

“You are mistaken. I am the guest of Raimond V., Baron des Anbiez,” said the Bohemian, with emphasis.

“Is the venomous scorpion, too, the guest of the house he inhabits?” replied Peyrou, looking steadily in his eyes.

The eyes of the vagabond kindled, and, by a muscular contraction of his cheeks, Peyrou saw that he was gnashing his teeth; nevertheless, he replied to Peyrou, with affected calmness:

“I do not deserve your reproaches, watchman. Raimond V. took pily on a poor wanderer, and offered me the hospitality of his roof—”

“And to prove your gratitude to him, you wish to bring sorrow and ruin upon that roof.”

“I?”

“Yes, you,—you are in communication with that chebec down there, beating about the horizon.”

The Bohemian looked at the vessel with the most indifferent air in the world, and replied:

“On my life, I have never set foot on a ship; as to the communication which you suppose I have with that boat, that you call a chebec, I believe,—I doubt if my voice or my signal could reach it.”

The watchman threw a penetrating glance on the Bohemian, and said to him:

“You have never set foot on the deck of a ship?”

“Never, except on those boats on the Rhone, for I was born in Languedoc, on the highway; my father and mother belonged to a band of Bohemians which came from Spain, and the only recollection that I have of my childhood is the refrain so often sung in our wandering clan:

“‘Cuando me pario Mi madre la gitana.’

“That is all I know of my birth,—all the family papers I have, watchman.”

“The Bohemians of Spain speak Arabic also,” said Peyrou, observing the vagabond attentively.

“They say so. I know no other language than the one I speak,—very badly, as you see.”

“The sun is setting behind those great clouds down there; for one who is fond of that sight you seem to be quite indifferent to it,” answered the watchman, with an ironical air. “No doubt the chebec interests you more.”

“To-morrow evening I can see the sun set; to-day I would rather spend my time in guessing your riddles, watchman.”

During this conversation, the syndic of the overseers had not lost sight of the vessel, which continued to beat about, evidently waiting for a signal.

Although the appearance of this vessel was suspicious, Peyrou hesitated to give the alarm on the coast by kindling the fire. To set the whole seashore in excitement unnecessarily was a dangerous precedent, because some other time, in case of real danger, the signal might be taken for a false alarm.

While the watchman was absorbed in these reflections, the Bohemian looked around him uneasily; he was trying to discover some traces of the eagle, as from the rock where he had been squatting, he had seen Brilliant alight in this direction.

For a moment he thought of getting rid of Peyrou, but he soon renounced this idea. The watchman, strong and well-armed, was on his guard.

Peyrou, notwithstanding the anger that the presence of the vagabond inspired in him, feared to see him descend again to the castle of Maison-Forte, as Raimond V. did not suspect this wretch. Besides, seeing his wicked designs discovered, the villain might attempt some diabolical scheme before he left the country.

However, it was impossible to abandon his sentry-box under such serious circumstances, in order to warn the baron. Night was approaching, and the Bohemian was still there.

Happily, the moon was almost ful............