Then, without further comment, he arose, tossed his cigar overboard, ran his fingers through his mass of hair, and went below.
"What d'you suppose he meant?" I asked, in a guarded voice.
"Simple enough," Tommy whispered. "He's got apartments to let upstairs."
"Get out, man," I laughed. "That chap has more sense than either of us!"
"Then he'd better come across with some of it. You remember the freckled lad at Soissons who got fuzzy-headed from too much concussion? Well, he saw children around everywhere, too! It's a sure sign, Jack!" But now he laughed, adding: "Oh, I suppose our little Roumanian's all right, only——"
He was interrupted by Monsieur, himself, who emerged from the companionway door.
"I come again," he smiled apologetically, "because tomorrow our journeys part, and I have shown scant consideration for your kindness."
"It's we who feel the obligation," Tommy murmured. "Now, if we could only help you find the child—supposing, of course, that's what you're watching for!"
Monsieur gave a deep sigh, appearing to be quite overcome by a secret grief; but after a moment he looked at us, asking ingenuously:
"You think my behavior unusual?"