After déjeuner, Gaspard lit a pipe and lay down in his cabin for a siesta; he kept the door open for coolness and he could see out beyond the cave-like twilight of the deck-house a glimpse of the sun-smitten deck; then he fell asleep, and when he awoke it was three o’clock.
He turned out of the bunk and came on deck. The winches were still going; Sagesse was nowhere to be seen; Jules, who was superintending the unloading of the cargo, said that Missie Sagesse had gone ashore an hour ago.
He was very friendly, Jules, and anxious to please, and leaving the hands to look after themselves for a moment, he called a shore boat that was hanging about the ship and with his own hands dropped the rope ladder for Gaspard.
In a few minutes the boat had landed Gaspard at the harbour steps; he paid the man, and taking his way up the Passage Bartine, made for the Rue Victor Hugo. He did not know that one of the boatmen was following him.
As he entered the Rue Victor Hugo he met M. Seguin, who had just returned from Grand Anse; it was one of those accidental meetings that Fate arranges. M. Seguin shook hands with his preserver, then, taking him by the arm, led him across the way to the Café Palmiste.
An hour later, the news was brought to Sagesse that Gaspard had met M. Seguin, evidently by appointment, in the Rue Victor Hugo, and that both men had entered a café.
This confirmation of his suspicions was the only thing wanted to fix in Sagesse’s mind the certainty that he was betrayed.
He had no fear of Seguin stealing a march on him, for La Belle Arlésienne would be away long before Seguin could commission a ship.
But he swore a frightful oath to be even with Gaspard when the moment arrived—and the place.