ry object which they saw,--bits of wood, seaweed or
crates floating on the surface of the water,--to be the top of a
periscope.

The officials of the battalion of snipers had gone to prow and poop in
order to maintain discipline among their men. But the Asiatics,
scornful of death, had not abandoned their serene apathy. Some merely
looked out over the sea with a childish curiosity, anxious to become
acquainted with this new diabolical toy, invented by the superior
races. On the decks reserved for first class passengers astonishment
was as great as the uneasiness.

"Submarines in the Mediterranean!... But is it possible?..."

Those last to awake appeared very incredulous and could only be
convinced of what had occurred when they heard the news from the boat's
crew.

Ferragut wandered around like a soul in torment. Remorse made him hide
himself in his stateroom. These people with their complaints and their
comments were causing him great annoyance. Soon he found that he could
not remain in this isolation. He needed to see and to know,--like a
criminal who returns to the place where he has committed his crime.

At midday they began to see on the horizon various little clouds. They
were the ships hastening from all sides, attracted by this unexpected
attack.

The French boat that was sailing ahead of them suddenly moderated its
speed. They had come into the zone of the shipwreck. In the lookouts
were sailors exploring the sea and shouting the orders that guided the
steamer's course. During these evolutions, there began to slip past the
vessel's sides the remains of the tragic event.

The two rows of heads lined up on the different decks saw life
preservers floating by empty, a boat with its keel in the air, and bits
of wood belonging to a raft evidently constructed in great haste and
never finished.

Suddenly a howl from a thousand voices, followed by a funereal
silence.... The body of a woman lying on some planks passed by. One of
her legs was thrust into a gray silk stocking, her head was hanging on
the opposite side, spreading its blonde locks over the water like a
bunch of gilded seaweed.

Her firm and juvenile bust was visible through the opening of a
drenched nightgown which was outlining her body with unavoidable
immodesty. She had been surprised by the shipwreck at the very moment
that she had been trying to dress; perhaps terror had made her throw
herself into the sea. Death had twisted her face with a