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Updated: June 3, 2025
And this general gayety induced Caragol to bring forth liquid treasures that had been piling up in former voyages under Ferragut's careless and generous administration. The strong alcoholic wine of the coast of the Levant began falling into the glasses like ink crowned with a circle of rubies. The old man poured it forth with a prodigal hand.
They must be skippers of small boats. As though Ferragut's looks and gestures had mysteriously notified them, the three turned, fixing their eyes on the captain. Then they began to discuss among themselves with a vehemence which made it easy to guess their words. "It is he!..." "No, it isn't!..." Those men knew him but couldn't believe that they were really seeing him.
The professor mildly supplemented the authority of the traveling husband, and took it upon himself to represent the head of the family in all outside matters.... Many times Ferragut's wife would be awaiting him with impatience in order to ask his mature counsel, and he would emit his opinion in a slow voice after long reflection.
He stopped himself in his confidences, feeling a curious hesitation and finally he added, lowering his voice: "The Germans are paying for it!... We are going to supply their Mediterranean submarines with petrol." Contrary to all Ferragut's expectations, his second did not make any gesture of surprise. He remained as impassive as if this news were actually incomprehensible to him.
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.
The past had fallen into oblivion.... But he needed to see daily the captain's wife weaving laces with her two little nieces, as he had seen Ferragut's widow years before.
A handkerchief was waving from the stern of the little boat. "Good-by, Captain!" And the captain nodded his head, smiling and gratified by the feminine greeting while the sailors were envying him his good luck. Again one of the men of the crew carried Ferragut's baggage to the albergo on the shore of S. Lucia.
Reading nothing except what pertained to their career, they used to speak with consternation of the numerous books that filled Ferragut's stateroom, many of them upon matters which appeared to them most mysterious. Some even made inexact statements in order to enlarge the prestige of their comrade. "He knows much.... He is a lawyer as well as a sailor."
He had not been able to resist the temptation of forcing the secret, fearing that Ferragut's generosity might prove excessive, and impossible to consider. He protested, handing to Ulysses the check taken from the envelope. "I could not accept it!... It's a crazy idea!..." He had read with terror the amount made out to him in the letter of credit, first in figures then in long hand.
Save me!... I can do no more. I feel a horrible fear. I have so much to expiate!..." Little by little she had raised herself from the divan, and, while begging Ferragut's protection, was going toward him with outstretched arms; abject, and yet at the same time caressing, through that desire of seduction that always predominated over all her acts. "Leave me!" shouted the sailor.
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