In a moment the hatchways were opened; there sounded the crash of breaking pieces of wood, and the cases of petrol began to be carried off on both sides.

The water all around the sailboat was filled with broken cases that were gently floating away.
The count on the poop deck was listening to an officer dressed in waterproof garments.
He was recounting their passage through the Strait of Gibraltar, completely submerged, seeing through the periscope the English torpedo-chasers on patrol.
"Nothing, Commandant," continued the officer.

"Not even the slightest incident....

A magnificent voyage!" "May God punish England!" said the count now called Commandant.
"May God punish her!" replied the official as though he were saying "Amen." Ferragut saw himself forgotten, ignored, by all the men aboard the schooner.

Some of the sailors even pushed him to one side in the haste of their work.