"What are you hinting?" she whispered.
"One minute. Do you know the names of those four sailors?"
"I did know them, but I don't remember them."
"You don't remember that they were Breton names?"
"Yes, I do. But I don't see that . . ."
"If you never came to Brittany, your father often did, because of the books he used to write. He used to stay in Brittany during your mother's lifetime. That being so, he must have had relations with the men of the country. Suppose that he had known the four sailors a long time, that these men were devoted to him or bribed by him and that he engaged them specially for that adventure. Suppose that they began by landing your father and your son at some little Italian port and that then, being four good swimmers, they scuttled and sank their yacht in view of the coast. Just suppose it."
"But the men are living!" cried Véronique, in growing excitement. "They can be questioned."
"Two of them are dead; they died a natural death a few years ago. The third is an old man called Maguennoc; you will find him at Sarek. As for the fourth, you may have seen him just now. He used the money which he made out of that business to buy a grocer's shop at Beg-Meil."
"Ah, we can speak to him at once!" cried Véronique, eagerly. "Let's go and fetch him."
"Why should we? I know more than he does."