"Hang it, it is as black as in the fiend's oven; there is no moon, you cannot distinguish an object ten yards from you. How shall I know when you want to come on board again, unless you warn me by a signal?"
"That is true; what had I better do?"
"Here is a pistol, it is not loaded, but there is powder in the pan, and you can squib it."
"Thanks," said the Major, taking the pistol, and thrusting it through his girdle.
He got into the boat, which was dancing on the waves, and sat down in the stern sheets; four vigorous sailors bending over the oars made her fly through the water.
"A pleasant trip," the skipper shouted.
It appeared to the Major as if this wish had been uttered with a very marked ironical tone by Master Nicaud, but he attached no further importance to it, and turned his eyes toward land, which was gradually looming larger.
Ere long the boat's bows grated on the sand; they had arrived.
The Major went ashore, and after ordering the sailors to return aboard, he drew his cloak over his face, went off with long steps, and soon disappeared in the darkness.
However, instead of obeying the injunction given them, three of the sailors landed in their turn, and followed the Major at a distance, while careful to keep themselves out of sight. The fourth, who remained to keep the boat, hid the latter behind a point, secured it to a projecting rock, and leaping ashore, fusil in hand, he remained on the watch with his eyes fixed on the interior of the island.