“That is all I know of my birth,--all the family papers I have, watchman.”
“The Bohemians of Spain speak Arabic also,” said Peyrou, observing the vagabond attentively.
“They say so. I know no other language than the one I speak,--very badly, as you see.”
“The sun is setting behind those great clouds down there; for one who is fond of that sight you seem to be quite indifferent to it,” answered the watchman, with an ironical air. “No doubt the chebec interests you more.”
“To-morrow evening I can see the sun set; to-day I would rather spend my time in guessing your riddles, watchman.”
During this conversation, the syndic of the overseers had not lost sight of the vessel, which continued to beat about, evidently waiting for a signal.
Although the appearance of this vessel was suspicious, Peyrou hesitated to give the alarm on the coast by kindling the fire. To set the whole seashore in excitement unnecessarily was a dangerous precedent, because some other time, in case of real danger, the signal might be taken for a false alarm.
While the watchman was absorbed in these reflections, the Bohemian looked around him uneasily; he was trying to discover some traces of the eagle, as from the rock where he had been squatting, he had seen Brilliant alight in this direction.
For a moment he thought of getting rid of Peyrou, but he soon renounced this idea. The watchman, strong and well-armed, was on his guard.
Peyrou, notwithstanding the anger that the presence of the vagabond inspired in him, feared to see him descend again to the castle of Maison-Forte, as Raimond V. did not suspect this wretch. Besides, seeing his wicked designs discovered, the villain might attempt some diabolical scheme before he left the country.
However, it was impossible to abandon his sentry-box under such serious circumstances, in order to warn the baron. Night was approaching, and the Bohemian was still there.
Happily, the moon was almost full; in spite of the densely piled clouds, her light was bright enough to reveal all the manoeuvres of the chebec.
The Bohemian, his arms crossed on his breast, surveyed Peyrou, with imperturbable coolness.
“You see the sun has set,” said this old seaman, “the night will be cold; you had better return to Maison-Forte.”