my feelings about the Emperor I am lonely sometimes, and that
it would be an advantage to me to have a companion who would sympathize
with my thoughts. One gets very bored on these long voyages, and I would
make it worth your while to share my cabin."

He looked hard at me with his shrewd grey eyes all the time that he was
uttering this rigmarole, and I gave him a glance in return which showed
him that he was not dealing with a fool. He took out a canvas bag full
of money.

"There are a hundred pounds in gold in this bag," said he. "You will be
able to buy some comforts for your voyage. I should recommend you to get
them in Southampton, whence we will start in ten days. The name of the
vessel is the Black Swan. I return to Southampton to-morrow, and I shall
hope to see you in the course of the next week."

"Come now," said I. "Tell me frankly what is the destination of our
voyage?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" he answered. "We are bound for the Guinea coast
of Africa."

"Then how can that be in the highest interests of the Emperor?" I asked.

"It is in his highest interests that you ask no indiscreet questions and
I give no indiscreet replies," he answered, sharply. So he brought the
interview to an end, and I found myself back in my lodgings with nothing
save this bag of gold to show that this singular interview had indeed
taken place.

There was every reason why I should see the adventure to a conclusion,
and so within a week I was on my way to England. I passed from St.
Malo to Southampton, and on inquiry at the docks I had no difficulty in
finding the Black Swan, a neat little vessel of a shape which is called,
as I learned afterward, a brig. There was Captain Fourneau himself upon
the deck, and seven or eight rough fellows hard at work grooming her and
making her ready for sea. He greeted me and led me down to his cabin.

"You are plain Mr. Gerard now," said he, "and a Channel Islander. I
would be obliged to you if you would kindly forget your military ways
and drop your cavalry swagger when you walk up and down my deck.
A beard, too, would seem more sailor-like than those moustaches."

I was horrified by his words, but, after all, there are no ladies on the
high seas, and what did it matter? He rang for the steward.

"Gustav," said he, "you will pay every attention to my friend, Monsieur
Etienne Gerard, who makes this voyage with us. This is Gustav Kerouan,
my Breton steward," he explained, "and you are ve