"Speak quietly! Speak quietly! There are still . . . there are evil spirits . . ."
"Then they're ghosts?" asked Véronique, horror-stricken by these superstitions.
"Ghosts, yes, but ghosts of flesh and blood . . . with hands that lock doors and keep you imprisoned . . . creatures that sink boats, the same, I tell you, that killed M. Antoine, Marie Le Goff and the others . . . that killed twenty-six of us . . . ."
Véronique did not reply. There was no reply to make. She knew, she knew only too well who had killed M. d'Hergemont, Marie Le Goff and the others and sunk the two boats.
"What time was it when the three of you were locked in?" she asked.
"Half-past ten . . . . We had arranged to meet Corréjou in the village at eleven."
Véronique reflected. It was hardly possible that François and Stéphane should have had time to be at half-past ten in this place and an hour later to be behind the rock from which they had darted out upon the two boats. Was it to be presumed that one or more of their accomplices were left on the island?
"In any case," she said, "you must come to a decision. You can't remain in this state. You must rest yourselves, eat something . . . ."
The second sister had risen to her feet. She said, in the same hollow and violent tones as her sister:
"First of all, we must hide . . . and be able to defend ourselves against them."