“A friend, Monsieur, who wishes to do you a service.”
“Ha, that voice! It was you, then, who called out—”
“It was.”
“And—”
“I who fired the shots—precisely.”
“There is no one killed, then?”
“Not that I know of. My pistol was pointed to the sky—besides it was loaded blank.”
“I’m glad of that, Monsieur; but for what purpose, may I ask, have you—”
“Simply to do you a service, as I have said.”
“But how do you contemplate serving me by firing off pistols, and frightening the passengers of the boat out of their senses?”