‘How droll! how incredible! Mon Dieu, what a thing is the human intelligence! Because one little nerve or cell in the brain perhaps is wrong,’ here he tapped his forehead, ‘all is gloom. It is like turning off the gas. You go into a corner downstairs, you move a key no longer than that, and a great hotel of seventy bedrooms and thirty sitting-rooms is instantly plunged in darkness.’
He was interrupted by the arrival of his uncle, who, pulling off his red cap, gave me a bow and seated himself. I drank a cup of the tea; there was no milk, yet I found the beverage refreshing. I also ate some biscuit and marmalade. The conversation was all about myself. Captain Regnier’s speeches were translated by Alphonse, and my mind was stimulated by what was said. I found myself capable of asking questions; but few were the questions I could find to ask. I had nothing to base them upon save the story of my rescue from an open boat, as it had been related to me, and the Frenchman had nothing more to tell me than that she was a boat with two masts.
‘Was I alone in her?’ I asked.
‘Oh yes, you were alone,’ answered Alphonse.
‘How is it possible that I should be alone in an open boat?’ I exclaimed.
‘It was a pleasure-boat,’ said Captain Regnier; ‘without doubt you sailed on an excursion from some port, and were blown away to sea.’
‘But alone!’ I cried.
‘You were alone, madame,’ said Alphonse, and, eagerly addressing his uncle as though a fine idea had occurred to him, he exclaimed; ‘Could you not tell by the build of the boat what her nationality was?’
Captain Regnier shrugged his shoulders until his ears were hidden. ‘What is there of nationality in a boat of that size?’ he answered. ‘The boats of France, of England, of Europe in general—are they not very much alike—especially in the dark?’