Ferragut, not knowing how to answer this simple and solid enthusiasm, gave way to his temper.
"Get out, you brute!… I don't want to see you again, ungrateful wretch! I shall do the thing alone; I don't need you. It is enough for me to take my boat where it pleases me and to follow out my own pleasure. Be off with all the old lies with which you have crammed your cranium…. You blockhead!"
His wrath made him fall into his armchair, swinging his back toward the mate, hiding his head in his hands, in order to make him understand that with this scornful silence everything between them had come to an end.
Toni's eyes, growing constantly more distended and glassy, finally released a tear…. To separate thus, after a fraternal life in which the months were like years!…
He advanced timidly in order to take possession of one of Ferragut's soft, inert, inexpressive hands. Its cold contact made him hesitate. He felt inclined to yield…. But immediately he blotted out this weakness with a firm, crisp tone:
"Good-by, Ulysses!…"
The captain did not answer, letting him go away without the slightest word of farewell. The mate was already near the door when he stopped to say to him with a sad and affectionate expression:
"Do not fear that I shall say anything about this to anybody…. Everything remains between us two. I will make up some excuse in order that those aboard will not be surprised at my going."
He hesitated as though he were afraid to appear importunate, but he added:
"I advise you not to undertake that trip. I know how our men feel about these matters; you can't rely upon them. Even Uncle Caragol, who only concerns himself with his galley, will criticize you…. Perhaps they will obey you because you are the captain, but when they go ashore, you will not be the master of their silence…. Believe me; do not attempt it. You are going to disgrace yourself. You well know for what cause…. Good-by, Ulysses!"