Jacques de Wissant said the words required of him. And then, at the last
moment, just as he was on the point of going down the steps leading to
the flat-bottomed boat in which they were to be rowed to the pontoon,
there arose an angry discussion. The harbour-master had, it seemed,
promised the representatives of two Paris newspapers that they should be
present when the submarine was first opened.

But the Admiral stiffly asserted his supreme authority. "In such matters
I can allow no favouritism! It is doubtful if any bodies will be taken
out to-night, gentlemen, for the tide is already turning. I will see if
other arrangements can be made to-morrow. If any of you had been in the
harbour of Bizerta when the _Lutin_ was raised, you would now thank me
for not allowing you to view the sight which we may be about to see."

And the weary, disappointed special correspondents, who had spent long
days watching for this one hour, realized that they would have to
content themselves with describing what could be seen from the quays.

* * * * *

It will, however, surprise no one familiar with the remarkable
enterprise of the modern press, when it is recorded that by far the most
accurate account of what occurred during the hour that followed was
written by a cosmopolitan war correspondent, who had had the good
fortune of making Dr. Tarnier's acquaintance during the dull fortnight
of waiting.

He wrote:

None of those who were there will ever forget what they saw last
night in the harbour of Falaise.

The scene, illumined by the searchlight of a destroyer, was at
once sinister, sombre, and magnificent. Below the high, narrow
pontoon, on the floor of the harbour, lay the wrecked submarine;
and those who gazed down at the _Neptune_ felt as though they
were in the presence of what had once been a sentient being done
to death by some huge Goliath of the deep.

Dr. Tarnier, the chief medical officer of the port--a man who is
beloved and respected by the whole population of Falaise--stood
ready to begin his dreadful task. I had ascertained that he had
obtained permission to go down alone into the hold of death--an
exploration attended with the utmost physical risk. He was clad
in a suit of india-rubber clothing, and over his arm was folded
a large tarpaulin sheet lined with carbolic wool, one of half a
dozen such sheets lying at his