This vision was instantaneous. The captain must think only of himself now, and springing up with a bound, he ran and ran, bending himself double, in order to offer the enemy the least possible mark.
He dreaded a general discharge, a hail of bullets; but his pursuers hesitated a few moments, confused in the darkness and not knowing surely whether it was the captain who had fallen a second time.
Only upon seeing a man running toward the ship did they recognize their error, and renew their shots. Ferragut passed between the balls along the edge of the wharf, the whole length of the Mare Nostrum. His salvation was now but a matter of seconds provided that the crew had not drawn in the gangplank between the steamer and the shore.
Suddenly he found himself on the gangplank, at the same time seeing a man advancing toward him with something gleaming in one hand. It was the mate who had just come out with his knife drawn.
The captain feared that he might make a mistake.
"Toni, it is I," he said in a voice almost breathless because of the effort of his running.
Upon treading the deck of his vessel, he instantly recovered his tranquillity.
Already the shots had ceased and the silence was ominous. In the distance could be heard whistlings, cries of alarm, the noise of running. The Carabineers and guards were called and grouped together in order to charge in the dark, marching toward the spot where the shooting had sounded.
"Haul in the gangplank!" ordered Ferragut.
The mate aided three of the hands who had just come up to retire the gangplank hastily. Then he threatened the dog, to make it cease howling.