mooring. The brigantine, with a graceful
movement, began to tack; during a few seconds it completely hid the disk
of the sun, and appeared enveloped in a brilliant aureole. Then the
swift vessel, turning its prow toward Cayman's Cove, began to make
toward the open sea.

Croustillac remained motionless in sorrowful reverie, with his eyes
fixed upon the vessel, which was carrying away the woman whom he so
suddenly and so madly loved.

The adventurer, thanks to his keen sight, could perceive a white
handkerchief which was waved from the stern of the vessel. It was the
last farewell of Blue Beard.

Shortly the breeze freshened. The little vessel, with swift movement,
bent under her sails, and went so rapidly that it was, little by little,
lost in the midst of the warm mist of the morning. Then it entered into
a zone of torrid light which the sun threw on the waves.

For some time Croustillac could not follow the Chameleon with his eyes;
when he saw her again, the brigantine drew nearer and nearer to the
horizon, appearing but a speck in space. Then, doubling the last point
of the island, she disappeared all at once.

When the poor chevalier could no longer see the vessel, he experienced a
profound sorrow. His heart seemed as empty and as solitary as the ocean.

"Now, sir," said Chemerant, "let us go and find the friends who are
awaiting you so impatiently. In an hour we will be on board the
frigate."

PART IV.

CHAPTER XXX.

REGRETS.

As long as Croustillac contemplated his sacrifice; as long as he had
been exalted by its dangers and upheld by the presence of Angela and
Monmouth; he had not realized the cruel consequences of his devotion;
but when he was alone, his thoughts became very painful. Not that he
feared the danger which menaced him, but he felt keenly the absence of
Angela, for whom he had braved everything. Under the eye of Angela, he
had gayly faced the greatest peril; but he would never see her again.
This was the real reason of his gloomy dejection.

With arms crossed upon his breast, bowed head, fixed gaze and somber
manner, the adventurer remained silent and motionless. Twice De
Chemerant addressed him: "Your highness, it is time to go."

Croustillac did not hear him. Chemerant, realizing the uselessness of
words, touched him lightly on the arm, repeating louder, "Your highness,
there still remain more than four leagues to travel before arriving at
Fort Royal."

"Zounds! sir;