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Updated: June 14, 2025
They were merchant vessels such as that elder Ferragut had commanded, embarkations from Valencia that were bringing wine to Cette and fruits to Marseilles. Upon seeing the blue surface of the Gulf on the other side of the Cape with no other roughness than that of a long and infinitely heavy swell, the Valencians would exclaim happily: "Let us cross quickly, while the lion sleeps."
From there, he turned his course to the southwest, to the cape where the Mediterranean was beginning to grow narrow, forming the funnel of the strait. Soon they would pass before Almeria and Malaga, reaching Gibraltar the following day. "Here is where the enemy is oftentimes waiting," said Ferragut to one of the officers.
The repairs were not yet entirely completed. "We are going to Brest," said Ferragut laconically, "It's the last trip." And the steamer put to sea without cargo as though going to fulfill a special mission. "The last trip!"
The sailor began to feel the nervous disquietude which a difficult situation creates. "Ferragut, pay and let us go," she said, divining his state of mind. While Ulysses was giving money to the waiters and musicians, she dried her eyes and repaired the ravages to her complexion, drawing from her gold-mesh bag a powder puff and little mirror in whose oval she contemplated herself for a long time.
At the same time, he saw in the exaggerated amiability of his smile a desire to conciliate them, to bring sweetly before them something which he considered of doubtful acceptation. "Now you'll be satisfied," said Ferragut, giving his hand, "we are going to weigh anchor soon." They entered the saloon.
A human hunt was going to take place in the night, and he, Ferragut, would be the deer pursued by the low crowds from the bar. "Ah, no!..." The captain recalled von Kramer galloping miserably in full daylight along the wharves of Marseilles.... If they must kill him, let it not be in flight. He continued his advance with a rapid step, seeing through his enemies' plans.
The third trip in mid-winter was a very hard one, and at the end of a rainy night, when the faint streaks of dawn were beginning to dissipate the sluggish shadows, the Mare Nostrum arrived at the roadstead of Salonica. Only once had Ferragut been in this port, many years before, when it still belonged to the Turks.
They all knew Captain Ferragut, because of the affair at Marseilles, and they were talking about his person with gloomy reticence. "Through them I learned of your arrival," she continued. "They are spying upon you, waiting for a favorable moment. Who knows if they have not already followed you here?... Ulysses, flee; your life is seriously threatened."
He spoke of the beauties of the country, counseling the Spaniard to take divers excursions.... A smile, an encouraging word from Ferragut, and he would have immediately proposed other recreations whose announcement appeared to be fluttering around his lips. But the sailor repelled all such amiability, glowering with displeasure.
But these liberties were already an accepted thing. She had taken the first step in the Aquarium: besides, she was sure of her ability to keep her lover at whatever distance she might choose to fix.... And convinced of her power of checking herself in time, she gave herself up like a lost woman. Never had Ferragut had such a propitious occasion.
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