He got up and went down to the boat, hunted in one of the lockers and returned with a spool of wire.
He flung it at La Touche.
“There’s your wire,” said he.
Cléo’s eyes brightened. The spool of wire seemed to her a fruit suddenly born from her words; she had accomplished something, it was perhaps the first real accomplishment in her life.
“Where did you get it from?” asked La Touche.
“The forward locker,” replied Bompard.
“Are there any other things in the locker?” asked the girl.
“Oh, Mon Dieu, yes,” replied the old fellow. “There’s a lot of truck, but it’s no use to us.”
“Let’s go and see,” said Cléo. She rose up and came down the beach followed by the others. The wind from the mountains died away but the sea torment remained and, though the tide was beginning to ebb, the spray of the waves almost reached the boat.
It had been listed to one side by the Wooley but was undamaged and the forward locker was still open as it had been left by the careless Bompard.