We should leave the harbour here in four days' time--that is to say, on the 23rd, if the weather holds, and not later than six o'clock in the morning.
It may possibly be earlier, but that will depend to some extent on the wind." M.de la Pailletine by this time was white with passion.

He began to comprehend that his guest would not dare to speak thus without some high authority to back him.
"Are we to understand, sir, that in this proposed expedition we sail under your orders ?" "Certainly." "May I ask to see your authority ?" "Of course you may." Captain Salt put a hand into his breast and drew out a folded paper.
Laying this on the table, he let his eyes travel round with a quiet smile.
It was signed in the handwriting and sealed with the seal of his Majesty King Lewis.
M.de la Pailletine picked up the paper with a shaking hand and read it through.

There was no room for demur.

The King commanded him, as chief of the squadron of galleys lying in Dunkirk, to place his ships, officers, and crews at Captain Salt's disposal and to follow his instructions implicitly throughout the expedition.

Moreover, the Intendant was ordered to furnish whatever stores, artillery, etc., Captain Salt should find necessary to the success of his design.
If he should require it, the fighting strength of the galleys should be supplemented by drafts from the regiments stationed in the citadel, the Rice-bank, and Forts Galliard, Rever and Bon Esperance.
The Commodore read all this and laid the paper down on the table.
The officers around him scanned his face and saw there was no hope of resistance.