They heard the sound of voices below them. They were just then approaching the level of the sea and they emerged, almost at once, into a large cave into which two lanterns were moving about in the dark.
A woman’s figure appeared and threw itself on Lupin’s neck:
“Quick, quick, I was so nervous about you. What have you been doing?—But you’re not alone!—”
Lupin reassured her:
“It’s our friend Beautrelet.—Just think, Beautrelet had the tact—but I’ll talk about that later—there’s no time now.—Charolais are you there? That’s right!—And the boat?”
“The boat’s ready, sir,” Charolais replied,
“Fire away,” said Lupin.
In a moment, the noise of a motor crackled and Beautrelet, whose eyes were gradually becoming used to the gloom, ended by perceiving that they were on a sort of quay, at the edge of the water, and that a boat was floating before them.
“A motor boat,” said Lupin, completing Beautrelet’s observations. “This knocks you all of a heap, eh, Isidore, old chap?—You don’t understand.—Still, you have only to think.—As the water before your eyes is no other than the water of the sea, which filters into this excavation each high tide, the result is that I have a safe little private roadstead all to myself.”
“But it’s closed,” Beautrelet protested. “No one can get in or out.”