The two other witnesses of this scene were also stricken dumb. M. de St. Four was the first to recover himself. He gave an uneasy laugh. De Flavigny, overwhelmed by the suddenness and inexplicability of the incident, began to stammer out some apology. "It is of no consequence, Monsieur," said St. Four, shrugging his shoulders. "Your friend does not wish to know me, that is all." And he made an attempt to resume their conversation where it had been broken off, but, as was hardly surprising, without any marked success, and shortly afterwards he took his leave. De Flavigny also, as soon as he could, made an excuse to the others, and went in search of his friend. (3) La Vireville was not at his quarters, and it took some half-hour's search before the Marquis found him, sitting on a rock that faced the Atlantic on the side of the 'mer sauvage,' his chin on his clenched fists, staring out to sea. At the sound of a step he turned round, and showed de Flavigny a face no longer, at least, like the Medusa's mask. "Have you come for an apology, René? I owe you one, I admit." "No; it is for me to apologise," said the Marquis, stepping on to the rock. "But I did not know----" "Of course you did not. How could you? Fate is pleased to be humorous, but you could not realise to what degree. It was something of a pity that you could not." He laughed, a hard, mirthless laugh, and tearing off a piece of dried seaweed from the rock on which he sat, cast it towards the waves. The wind carried it away. De Flavigny sat down by him. "Mon ami, the last thing I wish to do is to pry into your affairs. I can only repeat that I am exceedingly sorry I was so clumsy as to cause you pain, and that, since his presence is displeasing to you, I will make it my care, as far as I can, that you do not meet the gentleman in question again." "I don't suppose," said Fortuné de la Vireville between his teeth, "that he will seek for a repetition of the interview." He looked out to sea again in silence. René glanced at his set mouth. His friendship was of too recent a date for him to know much of La Vireville's private history, but he, like others, had heard the rumour of a tragedy in his past, and he guessed that he now stood on its threshold. He was silent, while the sea, all a-sparkle in the sun, came splashing in a little below them, and the gulls, uttering their fine-weather chuckle, sailed slantwise in the wind. "I never thought I should see him again," said La Vireville to himself, after a moment "--least of all here." And he pulled off another piece of seaweed and examined it minutely. "You need never come into contact with him," repeated the Marquis.