“I must admit that I spent some devilishly unpleasant minutes. I was alone. There was no longer any crew or helmsmen. The Glow-worm seemed to be steered by a drunken man, holding himself up by her wheel. One would have said that she was a child’s toy which has been wound up and which goes round and round. And then I guessed your plan—the bomb in one of the cabins, the mechanism exploded it, the explosion.
“I was perspiring freely, I can tell you. Was I to throw myself into the sea? I had just made up my mind to do so, when, as I was untying my shoelaces, I nearly fainted with joy at the sight of a dinghy in the wake of the Glow-worm fastened to her by a rope. It was my salvation. Ten minutes later sitting quietly in it, I saw a flame leap up in the darkness about three hundred yards away, and heard a roar roll across the sea like a peal of thunder. The Glow-worm had blown up.
“The next night, after having been tossed about a bit, I came in sight of shore not far from Cape Antifer. I slipped into the water and swam to it, and that very day I came here—to get everything ready for your visit, my dear Josephine.”
She had listened to him without interrupting with an air of serenity. She had the air of saying: “Words again—nothing but words.” The essential thing was the portmanteau. Supposing that he had hidden himself on the vessel and afterwards escaped shipwreck. It was of no importance.
She hesitated however to ask a definite question. She knew very well that Ralph was not the kind of man to risk everything to obtain no other result than to save himself. She was very pale.
“Well, haven’t you any questions to ask me?” he said.
“What questions? You said yourself that I had taken the portmanteau. And afterwards I put it in a safe place.”
“And you didn’t make sure that it was all right?”
“Gracious, no. What was the point in opening it? The ropes and seals were intact.”
“You didn’t notice the mark of a hole in the side—an opening made between the strands of wicker-work?”