The master gunner, or captain of the mast of the galley, an old sunburnt soldier, wearing a black felt jacket with a white cross, was seated in the guard-house of the prow, or rambade, of which we have spoken.
He was talking with the captain of the sailors of Our Lady of Seven Sorrows, whose name was Simon. The first speaker was Captain Hugues, who, with his companion, had always sailed with the Commander des Anbiez.
Captain Hugues was polishing with care a collar of steel net. Captain Simon from time to time was looking through the opening of the rambade, examining the sky and the sea, so as to prognosticate the end or the increase of the storm.
“Brother,” said Hugues to Simon, “the north wind blows strong; it will be several days before we arrive at La Ciotat. Christmas will be past, and our brother commander will be grieved.”
Captain Simon, before replying to his comrade, consulted the horizon again, and said, with a serious air:
“Although it is not proper for man to seek to divine the will of the Lord, I think we may hope to see the end of this tempest soon: the clouds seem not so low or so heavy. Perhaps to-morrow our ancient companion, the old watchman on Cape l’Aigle, will signal our arrival in the Gulf of La Ciotat.”
“And that will be a day of joy in Maison-Forte, and to Raimond V.,” said Captain Hugues.
“And also on board Our Lady of Seven Sorrows,” said Captain Simon, “although joy appears here as rarely as the sun during a westerly wind.”
“Look at this furbished collar,” said the gunner, regarding his work with an air of satisfaction. “It is strange, Brother Simon, how blood will stick to steel. I have rubbed in vain: you can always distinguish these blackish marks on the mesh!”
“Which proves that steel loves blood as the earth loves dew,” said the sailor, smiling sadly at his pleasantry.