He did not finish the sentence. The boat suddenly sank, taking both of the men down with it. It emerged immediately, with its keel in the air. Shouts were heard on either bank, succeeded by an anxious moment of silence. Then the shouts were renewed: one of the shipwrecked party had come to the surface.
It was Herlock Sholmes. He was an excellent swimmer, and struck out, with powerful strokes, for Folenfant’s boat.
“Courage, Monsieur Sholmes,” shouted Folenfant; “we are here. Keep it up ... we will get you ... a little more, Monsieur Sholmes ... catch the rope.”
The Englishman seized the rope they had thrown to him. But, while they were hauling him into the boat, he heard a voice behind him, saying:
“The key of the mystery, monsieur, yes, you shall have it. I am astonished that you haven’t got it already. What then? What good will it do you? By that time you will have lost the battle....”
Now comfortably installed astride the keel of the boat, Lupin continued his speech with solemn gestures, as if he hoped to convince his adversary.
“You must understand, my dear Sholmes, there is nothing to be done, absolutely nothing. You find yourself in the deplorable position of a gentleman——”
“Surrender, Lupin!” shouted Folenfant.
“You are an ill-bred fellow, Folenfant, to interrupt me in the middle of a sentence. I was saying——”
“Surrender, Lupin!”