—"The powder-magazine skiff?"
—"No!"
—"The gun-boat?"
—"She's there, you know, to keep guard over the island."
—"But who then can help us?"
—"The tide."
Geneviève looked at her husband, but without understanding what he meant.
—"It is now high-water," continued Mathieu; "in less than an hour the sea will have gone down enough to leave only four feet of water upon the line of reefs that runs from Trébéron to the Ile des Morts. With courage, and by the help of God, the passage may be tried. I am going to carry the child over to Dorot."
And as the mother could not restrain a cry of terror;—"Speak lower, unhappy one!" he added vehemently; "are you desirous of betraying me? Except the Superintendent of the powder-magazine and myself, no one knows the way. We have often passed along it when we were fishing together, and always passed it safely."
—"But not at night," interrupted Geneviève; "not burdened with a child."