1 46 THE MATAPAN AFFAIR a moment or two before, "the Parisian is steering straight toward the rocks to the south of Green Island." " Let him, if he chooses. If he has come here to take sea- baths he will be satisfied." " Here is the thief, captain," exclaimed the foreman, who had just removed the helmet from the head of the corpse. " It is no resident of this neighborhood, fortunately. I told you that Bretons do not dive to defraud others." " As God hears me, I believe it is that scoundrel Matapan! cried Jacques. . . " Matapan !" repeated Doutrelaise. " That is impossible. " It is he, I am sure of it," replied Courtaumer. " Death has not altered him beyond recognition. Look at that satyr- like face, that beard of inky blackness------" " Yes, I recognize him now. What a strange adventure! I cannot understand it." " But I understand it perfectly. The unfortunate Baron discovered Monsieur de la Calprenède's secret, and promised himself that he would come off winner in the race for the millions. He secretly organized a little expedition to Porsal, and took advantage of his clandestine departure to injure you by inventing that story of a duel which he reported to the authorities. It was not a badly contrived conspiracy, by any means; but he was unfortunate in his choice of an asso- ciate." " Who was, of course, the scoundrel I met yesterday. "Tell me, Albert, were the Englishman's ears pierced?" " Yes, I forgot to mention it; but I recollect now that they were." " Then I know him. It was the rascal you saw seated be- side me in the Champs-Elysées one day—the man who asked me about Matapan, and whom I saw on another occasion talk- ing with your porter." "lou are right; I remember now; but I cannot under- stand how I could have forgotten that swarthy and unpre- possessing visage." " The fact is not at all surprising. The day you met him you did not have much time to study his features. His presence annoyed me, and I left the place as soon as you came up, and if, as I am almost certain, it was he whom you met yesterday, you may rest assured that he has returned to Paris." " To steal Matapan's jewels, and any other valuables he can lay his hands upon. He is oh excellent terms with that Ma- lay, and------" "Let us leave him to the hanging he so richly deserves, and decide what we shall do with the Baron's remains. You cannot suppose I have any desire to preserve them as a relic. I think I will send the body to Porsal in the same state in which I found it, allowing the mayor and custom-house officer to take such measures as they may consider advisable. This sub-marine murder will perhaps be classed among les causes célèbres." " Captain," interrupted one of the sailors, pointing to the small boat which was still pursuing its erratic course between the shore and Green Island, " that craft will be on the rocks in ten minutes. The man on board knows no more about managing her than I do about raising cabbages." " Let us spare him the annoyance of swallowing a big dose of salt water," replied Jacques. " Take the ship's boat and go to his aid." "I will accompany them," said Doutrelaise. " Very well. I am going back to the yacht. If we are going to have visitors, I must be there to receive them." "And Matapan?" " He can remain here for the present. The long-boat, after taking me to the yacht, can return here for him, and carry him ashore. Hasten to the relief of that simpleton over there. If he is left to himself much longer, we shall have two dead men on our hands, instead of one." ' Doutrelaise jumped into the boat in which four sturdy men were waiting, oar in hand. To tell the truth, he was not sorry to leave to Conrtaumer the task of superintending the removal of Matapan's body from the long boat to the island. The little boat flew along like a sea-gull, and Doutrelaise, seated in the stern, had nothing to do but keep the rudder straight, and watch the dangerous maneuvers of the inex- perienced navigator to whose aid he was hastening. That imprudent person was evidently rushing on to de- struction, for the wind was driving him rapidlv toward tbe rough and jagged rocks that surround Green Island. Two or three times, he had attempted to go about, but he did it so clumsily that his sail proved a hinderance instead of an aid in his efforts. He now seemed to have renounced all hope of changing his course, and to be making no effort to guide hi8 frail craft. The catastrophe which was inevitable under such cirenn». stances soon occurred. A powerful wave dashed his boat upon a large rock; it executed a sort of somersault in the air and the next instant its unfortunate occupant was struggling in the waves. "Good God! he is overboard!" cried Doutrelaise. "p^ my friends, pull, we may save him yet." "If he is a good swimmer there is still a chance for him, though the current is very strong there," murmured one of the sailors. "I have lost sight of him!—he has gone down!" " Then he will never rise to the surface again. He must be some distance off already. Keep on rowing. Donotpaugj. an instant!" They were now only about a dozen yards from the boat, which was drifting along, keel uppermost. "There he is! he has just come to the surface again, One niore pull and we shall reach him." The moment of hope was short. A wave which had just broken upon the rock again engulfed the drowning man in its retreat. "We cannot allow him to perish!" exclaimed Doutrelaise, greatly agitated. No one replied. The sailors felt no desire to risk their lives in an attempt to save a Parisian who had only what he deserved. There was no one to blame but himself, after all. Why had he not remained on shore—or, if he was » anxious for a sail, why had he not gone with Father Guinic, who was an experienced sailor, and who had just rounded the point in safety? "If you will not save him, I will," cried Doutrelaise. '"I shall rescue him from the sea, or I shall remain there." And he plunged boldly into the waves. Doutrelaise was an excellent swimmer, but his clothing hampered his movements, and he soon perceived that he had not strength to stem the violent current which was bear- ing him toward Bosseven. His men, overcome with consternation, had instantly put the boat about and were rowing hard to overtake him, but he was already a long distance from them. He felt that he might be able to reach the rock upon which Matapan's lifeless form was reposing; but he was be- ginning to despair of accomplishing the rescue he had so generously attempted, when a rigid hand clutched the collar of his vest. His courage failed him for a moment. He knew that those who are drowning never let go their hold, and he was afraid the man would seize an arm or leg with the other hand. Such a proceeding on his part would paralyze the movements of his would-be preserver and prove certain death to both of them. Fortunately the poor fellow was almost unconscious, and had exhausted the last remnant of his strength and energy in this final effort. He retained his hold on Albert's collar, but showed no other signs of life. After that, all Doutrelaise had to do was to keep his head out of water, and try not to allow the eurreut to carry him Much further out, until the boat could overtake him. "Hold on!" cried the sailors in concert. He did hold on, and in two or three minutes—whicli seemed as many hours, however—he managed to reach the oar that was held out to him. The rest can be easily imagined. One of the sailors seized the awkward boatman by the waistband, another grasped Doutrelaise by the collar, and, with the assistance of two others, lifted them both on board. They laid the half-drowned Parisian on the bottom of the boat, and when Doutrelaise had recovered a little from his exciting adventure, he turned to look at the man he had saved. He saw his face, then he, too, nearly swooned. He had recognized Julien de la Calprenède. " Is he dead?" he asked frantically. "You will soon see that he is not," replied one of the sailors, who was kneeling beside the unconscious man, and who after opening a flask of brandy, placed it between Julien's parted lips, saying as he did so: " This is the best remedy in the world for gentlemen who have swallowed too much salt-water. In such cases, all the rubbing in the world will not do as much good as c drink of brandy."