“That is what I have been thinking, Ralph, but it would be well not to attack them until nearly daybreak.  We should capture one galley easily enough; but the others, being ignorant of our force, might make off in different directions, and we might lose both of them.  If, on the other hand, we could fall upon them a short time before daylight, we should be able to keep them in sight, and, even if they separated, they would soon come together and continue their course, or, as I hope, when they see that we are alone, bear up and fight us.  I think that our best plan will be to row on until it is dark, then give the slaves six hours’ rest, and after that go on quietly.  If we can make them out, which we may do if they have lights on board, we will stop, and wait until it is the hour to attack them.  If we miss them, we will row on to Sardinia and lie up, as we proposed, until they come along.”

“I think that will be a very good plan, Gervaise.”

Before sunset the three pirate ships could be clearly made out from the deck, but the pilot judged them to be fully ten miles away.  Half an hour later the slaves were told to cease rowing.  Gervaise had ordered the cooks to prepare them a good meal, and this was at once served, together with a full ration of wine.  As soon as they had consumed it, they were told to lie down and sleep, as at one o’clock the galley would be again under way.

The knights’ supper was served below, as lights on the poop might be made out, should a lookout be placed by the corsairs in their tops.

“We had better follow the example of the galley slaves,” Gervaise said, rising as soon as the meal was finished, “and, with the exception of Spain, who is on watch, turn in to sleep till we are off again.  All of you will, of course, don your armour on rising.”

At the appointed hour the galley was again under way.  There was not a breath of air, and before starting, pieces of cloth were wrapped round the oars at the rowlocks to deaden the sound, which might otherwise have been heard at a considerable distance on so still a night.  After an hour and a half’s rowing, the knight on the lookout said that he could see a light some distance ahead.  The pilot, an experienced old sailor, joined him, and speedily descended to the poop again.

“It is a ship’s light,” he said.  “I should say that it was a lantern on board the ship of the captain of the expedition, and is shown to enable the other two to keep near him.  I cannot say how far it is away, for I do not know at what height it hangs above the water; but I should imagine, from the feebleness of the light, that it must be some two miles distant.”