The watch hailed a second time.
Almost immediately I saw sailing silently towards us, and at a very short distance from us, a ship, whose immense sails I recognised as those of the Sardinian boat of the bay of Porquerolles.
The night was clear, the boat sailing rather fast; upon the deck of this long, narrow ship a great number of men were crowding against one another. From the mast was hung a ship's lantern. Lighted by its red, uncertain reflection, I distinguished at the helm, and holding the tiller, the man with the black cowl that I had already noticed during the approach of the long-boat.
Strange encounter, the consequences of which were to be still more strange!
The mystic withdrew; the noise of its track died away.
For a few minutes I could follow it with my eye, thanks to its white sails; then they became less distinct, and, finally, altogether effaced, until I could see only a luminous point in the darkness, which in time disappeared with the play of the ship's sails, like a star under a cloud.
Upon the appearance of this suspicious boat, Williams had ordered his brother to look for Falmouth.
"Well, Williams," said the latter, mounting the bridge, "we are again meeting our ugly acquaintance of Porquerolles!"
"The mystic has just passed athwart us, my lord."
"And what do you advise?"