The boat followed in the wake of the ship, a speck near the enormous mass.
During the examination of Milady by the officer, as may well be imagined, Milady on her part was not less scrutinizing in her glances.
But however great was the power of this woman with eyes of flame in reading the hearts of those whose secrets she wished to divine, she met this time with a countenance of such impassivity that no discovery followed her investigation.

The officer who had stopped in front of her and studied her with so much care might have been twenty-five or twenty-six years of age.

He was of pale complexion, with clear blue eyes, rather deeply set; his mouth, fine and well cut, remained motionless in its correct lines; his chin, strongly marked, denoted that strength of will which in the ordinary Britannic type denotes mostly nothing but obstinacy; a brow a little receding, as is proper for poets, enthusiasts, and soldiers, was scarcely shaded by short thin hair which, like the beard which covered the lower part of his face, was of a beautiful deep chestnut color.
When they entered the port, it was already night.

The fog increased the darkness, and formed round the sternlights and lanterns of the jetty a circle like that which surrounds the moon when the weather threatens to become rainy.

The air they breathed was heavy, damp, and cold.
Milady, that woman so courageous and firm, shivered in spite of herself.
The officer desired to have Milady's packages pointed out to him, and ordered them to be placed in the boat.