The captain was in league with the proprietor, who had been bankrupt many times....

And just because this voyage was so irrational, Ulysses hastened to embark.

For him, prudence was merely a vulgarity, and obstacles and dangers but tempted more irresistibly his reckless daring.
One evening in the latitude of Portugal, when they were far from the regular route of navigation, a column of smoke and flames suddenly swept the deck, breaking through the hatchways and devouring the sails.
While Ferragut at the head of a band of negroes was trying to get control of the fire, the captain and the German crew were escaping from the ship in two prepared lifeboats.

Ferragut felt sure that the fugitives were laughing at seeing him run about the deck that was beginning to warp and send up fire through all its cracks.
Without ever knowing exactly how, he found himself in a boat with some negroes and different objects piled together with the precipitation of flight,--a half-empty barrel of biscuits and another that contained only water.
They rowed all one night, having behind them as their unlucky star the burning boat that was sending its blood-red gleams across the water.

At daybreak they noted on the sun's disk some light, black, wavy lines.