of the man with whom he
was matched.

The dinner came to an end, or, rather, the diners rose, the dinner
having this hour or more been cleared from the table; and each went to
his or her state-room mastered by various degrees of astonishment.
Fitzgerald moved in a kind of waking sleep. Napoleon IV! That there
was a bar sinister did not matter. The dazzle radiated from a single
point: a dream of empire! M. Ferraud had not jested; Breitmann was
mad, obsessed, a monomaniac. It was grotesque; it troubled the senses
as a Harlequin's dance troubles the eyes. A great-grandson of
Napoleon, and plotting to enter France! And, good Lord! with what?
Two million francs and half a dozen spendthrifts. Never had there been
a wilder, more hopeless dreamer than this! Whatever antagonism or
anger he had harbored against Breitmann evaporated. Poor devil, indeed!

He understood M. Ferraud now. Breitmann was mad; but till he made a
decisive stroke no man could stay him. So many things were clear now.
He was after the treasure, and he meant to lay his hands upon it,
peacefully if he could, violently if no other way opened. That day in
the Invalides, the old days in the field, his unaccountable appearance
on the Jersey coast; each of these things squared themselves in what
had been a puzzle. But, like the admiral, he wished that there were no
women on board. There would be a contest of some order, going forward,
where only men would be needed. Pirates! He rolled into his bunk with
a dry laugh.

Meantime M. Ferraud walked the deck alone, and finally when Breitmann
approached him, it was no more than he had been expecting.

"Among other things," began the secretary, with ominous calm, "I should
like to see the impression of your thumb."

"That lock was an ingenious contrivance. It was only by the merest
accident I discovered it."

"It must be a vile business."

"Serving one's country? I do not agree with you. Wait a moment, Mr.
Breitmann; let us not misunderstand each other. I do not know what
fear is; but I do know that I am one of the few living who put above
all other things in the world, France: France with her wide and
beautiful valleys, her splendid mountains, her present peace and
prosperity. And my life is nothing if in giving it I may confer a
benefit."

"Why did you not tell the whole story? A Frenchman, and to deny
oneself a climax like this?"

M. Ferraud remained silent.

"If you had not meddled!