“It isn’t going to be child’s play.” The lieutenant was about to open the door when Peyrol said: “A moment,” and again the lieutenant turned about silently. “Michel is sleeping somewhere on the stairs. Will you just stir him up and tell him I am waiting outside. We two will have to finish our night on board the tartane, and start work at break of day to get her ready for sea. Yes, lieutenant, by noon. In twelve hours’ time you will be saying good-bye to la belle France.” Lieutenant Réal’s eyes, staring over his shoulder, seemed glazed and motionless in the moonlight like the eyes of a dead man. But he went in. Peyrol heard presently sounds within of somebody staggering in the passage and Michel projected himself outside headlong, but after a stumble or two pulled up scratching his head and looking on every side in the moonlight without perceiving Peyrol, who was regarding him from a distance of five feet. At last Peyrol said: “Come, wake up! Michel! Michel!” “Voilà, notre maître.” “Look at what I have picked up,” said Peyrol. “Take it and put it away.” Michel didn’t offer to touch the stable fork extended to him by Peyrol. “What’s the matter with you?” asked Peyrol. “Nothing, nothing! Only last time I saw it, it was on Scevola’s shoulder.” He glanced up at the sky. “A little better than an hour ago.” “What was he doing?” “Going into the yard to put it away.” “Well, now _you_ go into the yard to put it away,” said Peyrol, “and don’t be long about it.” He waited with his hand over his chin till his henchman reappeared before him. But Michel had not got over his surprise. “He was going to bed, you know,” he said. “Eh, what? He was going.... He hasn’t gone to sleep in the stable, perchance? He does sometimes, you know.” “I know. I looked. He isn’t there,” said Michel, very awake and round-eyed. Peyrol started towards the cove. After three or four steps he turned round and found Michel motionless where he had left him. “Come on,” he cried, “we will have to fit the tartane for sea directly the day breaks.” Standing in the lieutenant’s room just clear of the open window, Arlette listened to their voices and to the sound of their footsteps diminishing down the slope. Before they had quite died out she became aware of a light tread approaching the door of the room.