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It is tragic no doubt that such things must be, but remember" he uttered the words solemnly "they are the Price of Admiralty." "I know, I know," muttered Jacques de Wissant. "Shall we sit down?" The deadly pallor, the look of strain on the face of the man before him was making the Admiral feel more and more uneasy.
The mayor sent word to the Pavillon de Wissant that he would sleep in his town house, but though he left the town hall at two in the morning he was back at his post by eight, and he spent there the whole of the next long dragging day. Fortunately for him there was little time for thought.
The varied emotions which had racked him that morning had drained him of his vitality; and he thought with relief that in a few moments he would be in the old-fashioned restaurant just across the market place, where a table was always reserved for him when his town house happened to be shut up, and where all his tastes and dietetic fads for M. de Wissant had a delicate digestion were known.
After him, Jacques Wissant, another very rich man, offered himself as companion to these, who were both his cousins; and his brother Pierre would not be left behind: and two more, unnamed, made up this gallant band of men willing to offer their lives for the rescue of their fellow townsmen.
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.
She had not had the courage to deny herself this final glimpse of him they were never to meet again after to-morrow in his daily habit as he lived. At nine o'clock the next morning Jacques de Wissant stood in his wife's boudoir. It was a strange and beautiful room, likely to linger in the memory of those who knew its strange and beautiful mistress.
In front, stretching out into the sea, was a stone pier, built by Jacques' father many a year ago. The Châlet looked singularly quiet and deserted, for all the shutters had been closed in order to shut out the midday heat. Jacques de Wissant became vaguely uneasy. He reconsidered his plan of action.
But all at once there came a change in her voice, in her manner. "Why to-day the fourteenth of August is our wedding day! How stupid of me to forget! We must tell Jacqueline and Clairette. It will amuse them " She uttered the words a little breathlessly, and as she spoke, Jacques de Wissant walked quickly forward into the room.
She added, seeing that he still did not speak, "I am lunching with my sister to-day, but I shall be home by three o'clock." She spoke with the chill civility a lady shows a stranger. Claire seldom allowed herself to be on the defensive when speaking to her husband. Jacques de Wissant frowned.
There was a touch of hauteur as well as of indignant surprise in the fine old seaman's voice. "Admiral," said Jacques de Wissant deliberately, "there was there is a woman on board the Neptune." "A woman in the Neptune? That is quite impossible!" The Admiral got up from his chair.
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