Once enlightened on the subject of the birth of Erebus, Pog, in his diabolical joy, thanked the devil for having delivered the child into his hands.

All the feelings of aversion which Erebus had inspired in him were now explained; all his impulses of tenderness for the unfortunate youth could now be easily understood.

Erebus was the son of his mortal enemy; but he was also the son of the woman whom he had adored.

Without the secret instinct of hatred and of vengeance which dominated his being unconsciously, he could never have taken such pleasure in corrupting and perverting a young and innocent soul.

The most hardened hearts find a solace in the thought that their crimes are justifiable.

From this moment, Pog saw into his hatred clearly, if it may be said; his only indecision now was how to satiate his revenge.

He saw the necessity for prudence, that his vengeance might be sure and complete.

The death of Erebus could not satisfy him; that death, however slow, however cruel it might be, would be only one day of torment,—that no longer sufficed him.

The violence of his rage could not dissociate the innocent result of the crime from the crime itself, or from those who committed it, but Pog had long ceased to think or act with regard to justice.

In his opinion, Erebus was justly devoted to his wrath. He felt, too, a sinister joy in learning that Pierre des Anbiez was the seducer of his wife. Now he knew where to direct his blows.

Everything seemed to favour his plans. He believed he had killed Raimond V., Baron des Anbiez, in the attack on La Ciotat. Reine, abducted by Erebus, was the niece of the commander. Thus destiny assisted him in his hatred and pursuit of this family. Such were the bitter and triumphant feelings which filled his heart when the two galleys and the chebec reached their place of anchorage off the isles of Ste. Marguerite.

They had scarcely anchored when Hadji came on board the Red Galleon, and found Pog absorbed in his reflections.

In a few words he informed him of the designs of Erebus, and of his vain attempts to seduce the crew of the chebec and fly to the Orient.

Pog turned pale with fright. Erebus might have escaped him but for the fidelity of Hadji and his sailors! His vengeance baffled!

He manifested toward the Bohemian such overwhelming gratitude for his behaviour under the circumstances, that the latter stood gazing at him in bewilderment, so strangely did these grateful expressions contrast with the usual habit and bearing of Pog.

“Reassure yourself, Captain Pog,” said Hadji, “you need not carry on your conscience such a weight of gratitude; the sailors and I remained faithful to you because our interest demands it That obligation is superior to all others; but if you will believe me, Captain Pog, you will seize the first opportunity to put that young man ashore. He is getting spoiled,—he is getting weak; a little while ago he was weeping at the feet of those two women. So I advise you to abandon him at the first opportunity. He can only be in our way now.”

“Abandon Erebus!” cried Pog, with such passionate energy that Hadji looked at him in amazement “Abandon Erebus! but you do not know—what am I saying,—how can you know? This instant,—this instant bring the boy to me. You answer to me for him with your life—with your life, do you understand? Or indeed—but no—I will go myself on board his chebec; that will be more sure.”

At the same moment the pilot of the Red Galleon entered with an excited air. “Captain,” said he, to Pog, “in examining the horizon with my telescope, I have just discovered a galley and a polacre. These two vessels may pass without discovering us. Eblis grant it, for the black galley is fatal to those she attacks.”

“The black galley?” asked Pog.

“Who does not know the black galley of the Commander des Anbiez?” said the pilot.

“Eh, no doubt!” cried the Bohemian. “They expected the commander every day at Maison-Forte, the castle of Raimond V. Pierre des Anbiez must have arrived after us, he must have seen the citizens’ houses in flames, and known that his niece was carried off and his brother killed, and he is seeking us to avenge them.”

“That galley is the galley of the commander Pierre des Anbiez?” said Pog, stuttering, so profound was his astonishment “Pierre des Anbiez—the commander—here—he!”

It is impossible to picture the burst of savage joy with which Pog uttered these words.

After a short silence, during which he passed his hand over his brow, as if to assure himself that what happened around him was real, he suddenly fell on his knees, clasped his hands, and said, with an air of the deepest piety:

“My God, my God! Forgive me. Long have I doubted thy justice; to-day it reveals itself to me in all its glorious majesty! Lord—Lord—forgive me. Grief has distracted me; now thine alm............