Following the manoeuvres and progress of this vessel with the aid of his telescope, he unconsciously turned it upon the imposing ma.s.s of Maison-Forte, the home of Raimond V., and on one part of the beach which was absolutely bare, at the point where it touched the rocks upon which the castle stood. He soon distinguished Reine des Anbiez mounted on her nag and followed by Master Laramee. The young girl was going, doubtless, in advance of the baron into the road.

Several huge rocks intervened, cutting off the view from the beach, and Peyrou lost sight of Mlle. Anbiez.

Just at this moment the watchman was startled by a loud noise; he felt the air above him in commotion, and suddenly his eagle fell at his feet.

She had come, no doubt, to demand her accustomed food, as her hoa.r.s.e and impatient cries testified.

The watchman sat caressing the bird abstractedly, when a new incident awakened his interest.

His sight was so penetrating that, in watching the spot on the coast where Mlle, des Anbiez would be likely to appear, he distinguished a man who seemed to be cautiously hiding himself in the hollow of the rock.

Turning his telescope at once on this man, he recognised the Bohemian.

To his great astonishment, he saw him draw from a bag a white pigeon, and attach to its neck a small sack, into which he slipped a letter.

Evidently the Bohemian thought himself protected from all observation, as, owing to the form and elevation of the rock where he was squatting, it was impossible for him to be seen either from the coast or from Maison-Forte.

Only from the prodigious height of Cape l'Aigle, which commanded the entire sh.o.r.e of the bay, could Master Peyrou have discovered the Bohemian.

After having looked anxiously from one side to the other, as if he feared he might be seen in spite of his precautions, the vagabond again secured the little sack around the neck of the pigeon, and then let it fly.

Evidently the intelligent bird knew the direction it was to take.

Once set at liberty, it did not hesitate, but rose almost perpendicularly above the Bohemian, then flew rapidly toward the east. As quick as thought, Peyrou took his eagle and tried to make her perceive the pigeon, which already appeared no larger than a white speck in s.p.a.ce.

For a few seconds the eagle did not seem to see the bird; then, suddenly uttering a hoa.r.s.e cry, she violently spread her broad wings, and started in pursuit of the Bohemian's emissary.

Either the unfortunate pigeon was warned by the instinct of danger which threatened it, or it heard the discordant cries of its enemy, for it redoubled its swiftness, and flew with the rapidity of an arrow.

Once it endeavoured to rise above the eagle, hoping perhaps to escape its pursuer by disappearing in the low, dark clouds which veiled the horizon; but the eagle, with one swoop of her powerful wings, mounted to such a height, that the pigeon, unable to cope with its adversary, rapidly fell within a few feet of the surface of the sea, grazing the top of the highest waves.

Brilliant still followed her victim in this new manoeuvre.

The watchman was divided between the desire to see the end of the struggle between the eagle and the pigeon, and the curiosity to watch the countenance of the Bohemian.

Thanks to his telescope, he saw the Bohemian in a state of extraordinary excitement as he followed with intense anxiety the diverse chances of destruction or safety left to his messenger.

Finally, the pigeon attempted one last effort; realising, no doubt, that its destination was too far to be reached, it tried to return and come back to the coast, and thus escape its terrible enemy.

Unfortunately, its strength failed; its flight became heavy, and, approaching too near the waves, it was swept by foam and water.

The eagle availed herself of the moment when the pigeon was painfully resuming its embarra.s.sed flight to fall upon it with the rapidity of a thunderbolt. She seized the pigeon in her strong claws, rose swiftly in the direction of the promontory, and came with her prey to take refuge in her eyrie, on a rock not far from the watchman's sentry-box.

Peyrou rose quickly to take the pigeon from her; he could not succeed.

The natural ferocity of Brilliant was in the ascendency; she bristled her feathers, uttered sharp and fierce cries, and showed herself disposed to defend her prey with her life.

Peyrou feared to offend her, lest she might fly away and hide in some inaccessible rock; he allowed her to devour the pigeon in peace, having observed that the little sack tied around the neck of the bird consisted of two silver plates fastened by a small chain of the same material.

He did not, after that discovery, fear the destruction of the letter which he knew was enclosed therein.

While the eagle was devouring the Bohemian's messenger in peace, Peyrou returned to the door of his cell, took up his telescope, and vainly examined the rocks on the coast, in order to discover the Bohemian; he had disappeared.

While he was occupied with this new investigation, the watchman saw on the sh.o.r.e the carriage of Raimond V. The baron had mounted Laramee's horse, and was riding by the side of Reine, and doubtless accompanied her to Maison-Forte.

Thinking the eagle had finished her feast, the watchman directed his steps to her eyrie.

Brilliant was no longer there, but among the bones and feathers of the pigeon he saw the little sack, opened it, and found there a letter of a few lines written in Arabic.

Unfortunately, Peyrou was not acquainted with that language. Only, in his frequent campaigns against the Barbary pirates, he had noticed in the letters of marque of the corsairs the word Reis, which means captain, and which always followed the name of the commander of the vessels.

In the letter which he had just captured, he found the word Reis three times.

He thought the Bohemian was possibly the secret emissary of some Barbary pirate, whose ship, ambuscaded in one of the deserted bays along the coast, was waiting for some signal to land her soldiers. The Bohemian probably had left this ship in order to come to Maison-Forte, bringing his pigeons with him, and it is well known with what intelligence these birds return to the places they are accustomed to inhabit.

As he raised his head to obtain another view of the horizon, the watchman saw in the distance, on the azure line which separated the sky from the sea, certain triangular sails of unusual height, which seemed to him suspicious. He turned his telescope on them; a second examination confirmed him in the idea that the chebec in sight belonged to some pirate.

For some time he followed the manoeuvres of the vessel.

Instead of advancing to the coast, the chebec seemed to run along broadside, and to beat about, in spite of the increasing violence of the wind, as if it were waiting for a guide or signal.

The watchman was trying to connect in his thought the sending of the pigeon with the appearance of this vessel of bad omen, when a light noise made him raise his head.

The Bohemian stood before him.

CHAPTER XIX. THE LITTLE SATCHEL

The little satchel and the open letter were lying on the watchman's knees. With a movement more rapid than thought, which escaped the observation of the Bohemian, he hid the whole in his girdle. At the same time he a.s.sured himself that his long Catalonian knife would come out of its scabbard easily, for the sinister countenance of the vagabond did not inspire confidence.

For some moments these two men looked at each other in silence, and measured each other with their eyes.

Although old, the watchman was still fresh and vigorous.

The Bohemian, more slender, was much younger, and seemed hardy and resolute.

Peyrou was much annoyed by this visit. He wished to watch the manoeuvres of the suspicious chebec; the presence of the Bohemian constrained him.

"What do you want?" said the watchman, rudely.

"Nothing; I came to see the sun go down in the sea."

"It is a beautiful sight, but it can be seen elsewhere."

As he said these words, the watchman entered his cell, took two pistols, placed one in his girdle, loaded the other, took it in his hand, and came out.

By that time the chebec could be distinguished by the naked eye.

The Bohemian, seeing Peyrou armed, could not repress a movement of surprise, almost of vexation, but he said to him, in a bantering tone, as he pointed to the pistol: