Fortunately, on leaving the ship, broken-hearted, she found an officer at the gangway to whom she said: “And you, monsieur, will you not tell me where the _Bayard_ is?” The officer, whose job was to decode despatches, was a friend of her husband and did know. He took her quickly to his cabin in order that no one should hear them, and under seal of secrecy told her that the _Bayard_ was at Bizerta for repairs, that it would remain there eight or ten days and she could catch it if there was a boat. All the regular service has stopped. There is nothing now but military ships or ships that have been taken into Government service and which must not take passengers. On these she could not go except by fraud and with serious risk, if, indeed, anyone would take her. But she said that no one could shoot her for that, and if they dragged her husband into it just because she went to look for him, she would make him hand in his resignation after the war and that was all there was about it! She doesn’t lose her bearings, this little lady! She had never seen the young officer, the despatch translator, but she simply annexed him. She borrowed a hundred francs from him at once in the name of her husband, and then she told him to inform her immediately of any boat, no matter what, that was leaving for Tunis. But the officer was obdurate, for he said if the Admiral found it out, he would put him under arrest without hesitation. The little lady must have given him the glad eye, for he gave in. And then she told him that she would take up her quarters herself with her bag on a seat in the Customs office for the night, so that the lieutenant wouldn’t have to run to a hotel, and so that she would be ready to jump into the first boat he pointed out to her.