One sweltering hot day, the ship being becalmed, the men obtained leave to bathe over the side; after they had finished Surcouf thought he would like a dip, and took a header from the gangway. No sooner had he done so than he was seized with a sort of cataleptic fit, and found himself sinking helplessly. Luckily, it was noticed that he did not come up again, and some of the crew lowered a boat, while others dived for him, recovered him, and brought him on board; but all their efforts failed to evoke any signs of life, and the Portuguese, obviously and brutally exultant, after declaring repeatedly that Surcouf was dead, seized the inert body and with his own hands dragged it to the ship's side.
Surcouf, conscious of all that went on around him, realised that, unless he could make some sign, he had only a few seconds to live. With a tremendous effort, he contrived a voluntary movement of his limbs—it was noticed, and the further exertions of his shipmates sufficed to restore him.
The Portuguese, however, had not done with him. On their next visit to Africa some of the crew were laid up with malarial fever, and the first lieutenant caught it. He was very ill, and Surcouf earned the warm approbation of the captain for the manner in which he performed his senior's duties on the return voyage. After they arrived at Mauritius he was just going on shore when he received a message begging him to go and see the Portuguese, who said he must speak to him before he died. Surcouf did not much like the idea, but, after some hesitation, he went, having put a pair of loaded pistols in his pocket. The sick man made a sign to his servant to retire, and then said:
"I wish to speak to you with a sincere heart before I pass from this world, to relieve my conscience, and ask your forgiveness for all the evil I have wished to do you during our voyages."
Surcouf, touched by this appeal, assured him that he bore no malice. Just then the dying man appeared to suffer from a spasm which contorted his body, one arm stretching out towards a pillow near him. Surcouf quietly seized his hand and lifted the pillow, disclosing a couple of loaded pistols.
He seized them, and, pointing one at his enemy's face, said:
"You miserable beast! I could have shot you like a dog, or squashed you like a cockroach; but I despise you too much, so I'll leave you to die like a coward."
Which, we are told, the wretched man did, blaspheming in despairing rage.
After this, his ship being laid up in consequence of the blockade, he was appointed junior lieutenant of a colonial man of war, with a commission signed by the Governor.
Then came news of the death of Louis XVI. by the guillotine—news which astounded the colonists and seamen, who, in the Indian seas, were defending the "honour" of France—which they continued to do to the best of their ability, disregarding the deadly feuds and bloodshed at home.