"Surrender!" shouted the commissary.

The sky, at that moment, was dark. The three men lay flat at the bottom
of their skiff, for they thought they perceived a threatening gesture.

The boat, carried by its own impetus, was approaching the other.

The commissary growled:

"We won't let ourselves be sniped. Let's fire at him. Are you ready?"
And he roared, once more, "Surrender... if not... !"

No reply.

The enemy did not budge.

"Surrender!... Hands up!... You refuse?... So much the worse for you...
I'm counting... One... Two..."

The policemen did not wait for the word of command. They fired and, at
once, bending over their oars, gave the boat so powerful an impulse that
it reached the goal in a few strokes.

The commissary watched, revolver in hand, ready for the least movement.
He raised his arm:

"If you stir, I'll blow out your brains!"

But the enemy did not stir for a moment; and, when the boat was bumped
and the two men, letting go their oars, prepared for the formidable