"In the meantime, my dear professor, I am hungry. Will you have some dinner?"
"No, thanks. I must catch the train to Dover and cross to-night. It seems the Calais-Dover boats are running again; and I have no time to lose if I'm to publish an article and take up a definite position." He glanced at his watch. "Phew! It's jolly late! . . . If only I don't lose my train! . . . See you soon, my boy!" . . .
He departed.
The other person sitting in the dark had not stirred during this conversation and, to Simon's great astonishment, did not stir either after Old Sandstone had taken his leave. Simon, at switching on the light, was amazed to find himself face to face with an individual resembling in every respect the man whose body he had seen near the wreck on the previous evening. There was the same brick-red face, the same prominent cheek-bones, the same long hair, the same buff leather clothing. This man, however, was very much younger, with a noble bearing and a handsome face.
"A true Indian chief," thought Simon, "and it seems to me that I have seen him before. . . . Yes, I have certainly seen him somewhere. But where? And when?"
The stranger was silent. Simon asked him:
"What can I do for you, please?"
The other had risen to his feet. He went to the little table on which Simon had emptied his pockets, took up the coin with the head of Napoleon I. which Simon had found the day before and, speaking excellent French, but in a voice whose guttural tone harmonized with his appearance, said:
"You picked up this coin yesterday, on your way here, near a dead body, did you not?"
His guess was so correct and so unexpected that Simon could but confirm it: