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"'Well?' demanded the Colonel, briefly.

"Captain Grandjean did not reply immediately. He sat down at the table

where his comrades were mixing their drinks, and he, a man notorious

for sobriety, drank almost at a gulp, without waiting for the sugar to

melt, a full glass of absinthe.

"'Well, Captain?' repeated the Colonel.

"'Well, Colonel, it's done. You can be at ease. He will not set foot on

shore. But, ye gods, what an ordeal!' "The officers did not dare speak. Only their looks expressed their

anxious curiosity.

"Captain Grandjean poured himself a swallow of water.

"'You see, I had gotten my speech all ready, in the launch. But as I

went up the ladder I knew that I had forgotten it. Saint-Avit was in

the smoking-room, with the Captain of the boat. It seemed to me that I

could never find the strength to tell him, when I saw him all ready to

go ashore. He was in full dress uniform, his sabre lay on the bench

and he was wearing spurs. No one wears spurs on shipboard. I presented

myself and we exchanged several remarks, but I must have seemed

somewhat strained for from the first moment I knew that he sensed

something. Under some pretext he left the Captain, and led me aft near

the great rudder wheel. There, I dared speak. Colonel, what did I say?

How I must have stammered! He did not look at me. Leaning his elbows

on the railing he let his eyes wander far off, smiling slightly. Then,

of a sudden, when I was well tangled up in explanations, he looked at

me coolly and said: "'I must thank you, my dear fellow, for having given yourself so much

trouble. But it is quite unnecessary. I am out of sorts and have no

intention of going ashore. At least, I have the pleasure of having

made your acquaintance. Since I cannot profit by your hospitality, you

must do me the favor of accepting mine as long as the launch stays by

the vessel.' "Then we went back to the smoking-room. He himself mixed the

cocktails. He talked to me. We discovered that we had mutual

acquaintances. Never shall I forget that face, that ironic and distant

look, that sad and melodious voice. Ah! Colonel, gentlemen, I don't

know what they may say at the Geographic Office, or in the posts of

the Soudan.... There can be nothing in it but a horrible suspicion.

Such a man, capable of such a crime,--believe me, it is not possible.

"That is all, Lieutenant," finished Chatelain, after a silence. "I

have never seen a sadder meal than that one. The officers hurried

through lunch without a word being spoken, in an atmosphere of

depression against which no one tried to struggle. And in this

complete silence, you could see them always furtively watching the

City of Naples, where she was dancing merrily in the breeze, a

league from shore.