"'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.