"If Monsieur Batiscombe will not be so obliging as to relate the experience, I will," said Diana. "He shall correct me if I make a mistake."
Batiscombe looked annoyed. He was not fond of telling his own adventures, and he hated to hear them told by other people. He could not imagine why Diana wanted to hear the story. He was irritated already, and her conduct seemed more and more inexplicable. Leonora looked at him expectantly.
Who can understand a woman? It may be that Diana, who was really fond of him in a strange fashion, was sorry for the position she had taken that afternoon, and was willing to atone by giving him the credit before Leonora of some fine action he had done.
"It was three years ago or more, in the winter," began Diana. "Monsieur Batiscombe was travelling in a ship on the coast of America. There were a hundred passengers on board, or more, and a crew of thirty-five. Is that exact?"
Julius bent his head and turned away.
"Eh bien, there was a great storm—such as there are in the ocean. It is horrible, you may imagine. The ship was driven on the rocks, a long distance from the shore. A reef, you call it, n'est-ce-pas?"
"Yes," said Batiscombe. "Fifty or sixty yards from the shore."
"Good. What do they do? Six brave sailors volunteer to throw themselves into the sea in a chaloupe—a miserable boat"—
"And monsieur was one of the volunteers"—exclaimed Leonora, enthusiastically.
"Not at all, my dear friend. The boat overturns; the sailors are immediately drowned; every one is in consternation. Then Monsieur Batiscombe arrives; he says he will save everybody; he ties a thin line—a mere string—to his waist; he throws himself to the sea. The passengers scream as they cling to the ropes and the side, while the vessel is beaten horribly on the reef. He struggles in the waves, swimming; he is thrown down again and again in the breakers; he rises and rushes on to the shore. Then he pulls the string, and after the string a rope. A sailor ventures down and he also reaches the land. They fasten the rope, and every one is saved—passengers, crew, captain, tout le monde. Ah, Batiscombe, why are you not always doing such things,—you, who can do them so well?"