offered to the king. Murat divided them into four equal parts, and
forced his companions to take their shares; then, when the meal was over,
they steered for Corsica, but the boat had suffered so much that it was
improbable that it would reach Bastia.

The whole day passed without making ten miles; the boat was kept under
the jib, as they dared not hoist the mainsail, and the wind. was so
variable that much time was lost in humouring its caprices.

By evening the boat had drawn a considerable amount of water, it
penetrated between the boards, the handkerchiefs of the crew served to
plug up the leaks, and night, which was descending in mournful gloom,
wrapped them a second time in darkness. Prostrated with fatigue, Murat
fell asleep, Blancard and Langlade took their places. beside Donadieu,
and the three men, who seemed insensible to the calls of sleep and
fatigue, watched over his slumbers.

The night was calm enough apparently, but low grumblings were heard now
and then.

The three sailors looked at each other strangely and then at the king,
who was sleeping at the bottom of the boat, his cloak soaked with
sea-water, sleeping as soundly as he had slept on the sands of Egypt or
the snows of Russia.

Then one of them got up and went to the other end of the boat, whistling
between his teeth a Provencal air; then, after examining the sky, the
waves; and the boat, he went back to his comrades and sat down,
muttering, "Impossible! Except by a miracle, we shall never make the
land."