Cloarek, forgetting everything else in his alarm, rushed off, leaving Segoffin and the ship owner alone together.
"M. Verduron, I tell you very plainly, you have had a narrow escape," said the head gunner. "I have only one piece of advice to give you. Get away from here as soon as possible."
"You may be right," replied the visitor, hastily picking up his hat and cane.
"I am right."
"Well, listen to me. You know I mean well, and I must admit now that I am sorry I tried to carry things with such a high hand, for I had no idea that the captain had a daughter, or that he was so anxious to conceal the fact that he was a privateer; but no power on earth now, not even that of the captain himself, can prevent those devilish sailors from coming here in search of him if he does not go to them, so you had better tell him, in any case, that the ship's officers and a part of the crew are waiting for him at the tavern known as The Golden Anchor on the quay."
The ship owner hastened off and Segoffin darted into the house to inquire if there was any improvement in Sabine's condition.
CHAPTER XVIII.
"MY MOTHER'S MURDERER STILL LIVES."
Segoffin had been pacing the hall out of which Sabine's sitting-room opened for about half an hour with ever-increasing anxiety before Suzanne came out.
"Well, how is mademoiselle?" he asked, anxiously. "Tell me, Suzanne, how is she?"
"A nice question to ask, truly, when your brutality toward that estimable gentleman this morning threw mademoiselle into a frightful nervous spasm."