"'It's a long, long way to Tipperary. It's a long way to go . . . .'
"Well? Are you feeling in a chatty mood?"
Don Luis had climbed a few rungs. Stéphane and Patrice had come near and were anxiously listening. It was evident that Vorski meant to speak.
He had opened his eyes and was staring at Don Luis with a look of mingled hatred and fear. This extraordinary man must have appeared to him as one of those persons against whom it is absolutely useless to fight and to whom it is equally useless to appeal for compassion. Don Luis represented the conqueror; and, in the presence of one stronger than yourself, there is nothing for it but to yield in all humility. Besides, Vorski was incapable of further resistance. The torture was becoming intolerable.
He spoke a few words in an unintelligible voice.
"A little louder, please," said Don Luis. "I can't hear. Where's François?"
"On my word of honour. We shall all leave this place, except Otto, who will release you."
"You mutton-head. I know that. But where is he?"
"The one hanging at the foot of the cliff?"
Don Luis struck his forehead with his hand:
"Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! . . . Don't mind: I'm speaking of myself. Yes, I ought to have guessed that! Why, All's Well was sleeping under the boat, peacefully, like a good dog sleeping beside his master! Why, when we sent All's Well on François' trail, he led Stéphane straight to the boat. It's true enough, there are times when the cleverest of us behave like simpletons! But you, Vorski, did you know that there was a way down there and a boat?"
"And, you artful dog, you intended to skedaddle in her?"
"Well, Vorski, you shall skedaddle in her, with Otto. I'll leave her for you. Stéphane!"
But Stéphane Maroux was already running towards the cliff, escorted by All's Well.
"Help him, you others. And get the submarine under way. We shall sail in ten minutes."
"Good-bye, my dear chap . . . . Oh, just one more word! Every well-regulated adventure contains a love-story. Ours appears to be without one, for I should never dare to allude to the feelings that urged you towards the sainted woman who bore your name. And yet I must tell you of a very pure and noble affection. Did you notice the eagerness with which Stéphane flew to François' assistance? Obviously he loves his young pupil, but he loves the mother still more. And, since everything that pleases Véronique d'Hergemont is bound to please you, I wish to admit that he is not indifferent to her, that his wonderful love has touched her heart, that it was with real joy that she saw him restored to her this morning and that this will all end in a wedding . . . as soon as she's a widow, of course. You follow me, don't you? The only obstacle to their happiness is yourself. Therefore, as you are a perfect little gentleman, you will not like to . . . But I need not go on. I rely on your good manners to die as soon as you can. Good-bye, old fellow, I won't offer you my hand, but my heart's with you. Otto, in ten minutes, unless you hear to the contrary, release your employer. You'll find the boat at the bottom of the cliff. Good luck, my friends!"