Gilliatt seized the tiller, and in two minutes his boat entered the bay of the Bû de la Rue.
The young man wore a round hat and a white cravat; and his long black frock-coat was buttoned up to the neck. He had fair hair, which he wore en couronne. He had a somewhat feminine cast of features, a clear eye, a grave manner.
Meanwhile the boat had touched the ground. Gilliatt passed the cable through the mooring-ring, then turned and perceived the young man holding out a sovereign in a very white hand.
Gilliatt moved the hand gently away.
There was a pause. The young man was the first to break the silence.
“You have saved me from death.”
“Perhaps,” replied Gilliatt.
The moorings were made fast, and they went ashore.
The stranger continued—
“I owe you my life, sir.”