Arthur was lying asleep on deck, wrapped in his cloak, when he was awakened by a commotion among the sailors. He started up and found that it was early morning, the sun rising above the sea, and the sailors all gazing eagerly in that direction. He eagerly made his way to ask if they were in sight of land, recollecting, however, as he made the first step, that Spain lay to the west of them—not to the east.
He distinguished the cry from the Genoese sailors, ‘Ii Moro—Il Moro,’ in tones of horror and consternation, and almost at the same moment received a shock from Maître Hébert, who came stumbling against him.
‘Pardon, pardon, Monsieur; I go to prepare Madame! It’s the accursed Moors. Let me pass—miséricorde, what will become of us?’
Arthur struggled on in search of such of the crew as could speak French, but all were in too much consternation to attend to him, and he could only watch that to which their eyes were directed, a white sail, bright in the morning light, coming up with a rapidity strange and fearful in its precision, like a hawk pouncing on its prey, for it did not depend on its sails alone, but was propelled by oars.
The next moment Madame de Bourke was on deck, holding by the Abbé’s arm, and Estelle, her hair on her shoulders, clinging to her. She looked very pale, but her calmness was in contrast to the Italian sailors, who were throwing themselves with gestures of despair, screaming out vows to the Madonna and saints, and shouting imprecations. The skipper came to speak to her. ‘Madame,’ he said, ‘I implore you to remain in your cabin. After the first, you and all yours will be safe. They cannot harm a French subject; alas! alas would it were so with us.’
‘How then will it be with you?’ she asked.
He made a gesture of deprecation.
‘For me it will be ruin; for my poor fellows slavery; that is, if we survive the onset. Madame, I entreat of you, take shelter in the cabin, yourself and all yours. None can answer for what the first rush of these fiends may be! Diavoli! veri diavola! Ah! for which of my sins is it that after fifty voyages I should be condemned to lose my all?’
A fresh outburst of screams from the crew summoned the captain. ‘They are putting out the long-boat,’ was the cry; ‘they will board us!’
‘Madame! I entreat of you, shut yourself into the cabin.’