“Ah! I had forgotten.”
Sagesse rose to his feet and took Gaspard’s arm.
“Come,” said he, “let’s go and hunt for the gentleman’s remains. It would be curious, at all events, to see them. You know where you saw them last?”
“Perfectly,” replied Gaspard, leading the way across the bushes.
The boat was being hauled along on rollers over a path cut through the bushes, and the pulley-haul chanty of the negroes crossed with the crying of the gulls:
“A Fort de France. Ay ho!
A Fort de France. Ay ho!”
and from the gulls, wearily on the wind:
“Yves—Yves—Yves!”
“It was near here,” said Gaspard.
They had come to the little rise in the ground amidst the bushes, and sure enough his foot, taking its next step forward, struck something hard and hollow.