It was about two hours after midday. A sharp wind from the east had taken the place of the north wind of the preceding days. The sky was clear, the sun bright for a winter day, and the sea beautiful, although there was a gentle swell.
A child carrying a basket on his head began to climb, singing all the while, the steep rocks which led to the house of the watchman.
Suddenly, hearing the moaning of a dog, the child stopped, looked around him with curiosity, saw nothing, and went on his way.
The cry was repeated, and this time it seemed nearer and more pitiful.
Raimond V. had been hunting all day on that side, and thinking that one of the baron’s dogs had fallen into some quagmire, the child set his basket down on the ground, climbed up a large piece of a huge rock which projected some distance over the road, and listened with attention.
The cries of the dog grew fainter, yet sounded more plaintive than before.
The child hesitated no longer. As much to do something which would please his master as to merit a small recompense, he began diligently to search for the poor animal, and soon disappeared among the tall rocks.
The dog seemed sometimes nearer, and sometimes more distant; at last the cries suddenly ceased.
The child had left the path. While he was listening, calling, crying, and whistling, Hadji, the Bohemian, appeared behind a rock.
Thanks to his skill as a juggler, he had imitated the cries of the dog, so as to distract the child from his duty and take him away from his basket. For three days he had been wandering in the midst of this solitude. Not daring to appear again at Maison-Forte, he was expecting every day the arrival of the pirates, who had been instructed by his second message.