The swell of the sea caused the strange-looking craft to rise and sink a little, and sometimes the water ran bubbling all around the low rim of the aperture, in the center of which the red-capped man stood, resting on some invisible support, repeating his salutations and amicable smiles, and balancing his body to the rocking of the waves with the unconscious skill of a sailor.
The Ark was running slowly, but it would very soon have left the stranger in its wake if he had not also been in motion. It was evident that the object under his feet must be a submersible vessel of some kind, although it was of a type which Captain Arms, standing beside Cosmo on the bridge, declared that he had never set eyes on before. It lay so low in the water that nothing could be seen of its motive machinery, but it kept its place alongside the Ark with the ease of a dolphin, and gradually edged in closer and closer.
When it was so near that he could be heard speaking in a voice hardly raised above the ordinary pitch, the man, first again lifting his cap with an easy gesture, addressed Cosmo Versál by name, using the English language with a scarcely perceptible accent:
"M. Versál, I offer you my felicitations upon the magnificent appearance of your Ark, and I present my compliments to the ladies and gentlemen of your company."
And then he bowed once more to the passengers, who were almost crowding each other over the side in their eagerness to both see and hear.
"Thank you," responded Cosmo, "but who are you?"
"Capitaine Yves de Beauxchamps, of the French army."
"Where's the navy, then?" blurted out Captain Arms.
De Beauxchamps glanced at the speaker a little disdainfully, and then replied gravely:
"Alas! At the bottom of the sea—with all the other navies."